Both Logan and Rebecca were half frozen by the time they stamped into the house, trying to get feeling back in their feet and pulling off their boots. The last time Rebecca had ridden a horse was ten years ago. She hadn't forgotten how, but her muscles were certainly protesting.
And the worst part of it was that they were having trouble convincing people they might be in real danger. They had focused solely on the isolated ranches and similar situations, giving everyone the story about the escaped convicts. Unfortunately everyplace they stopped, the reaction was the same. "We're too far off the path for anyone to come here."
Which might have been true if the enemy really was human. Rebecca could see, as they picked their way through heavy snowdrifts, around rocky hills and through the stately Lodgepole pines, why Logan had chosen horseback for their mode of transportation today. But lordy, it certainly was cold. Even for a native of Maine.