A fine and bitter snow by Dana Stabenow

he was out of range. He cursed Dandy for not checking for signs of life more thoroughly, for losing so much precious time in getting Ruthe to help. He cursed himself, too, steadily and out loud, for not bringing the Bell Jet Ranger on this trip.
     
    "Jim?"
     
    "Shut up, Dan."
     
    "Jim, I don't have to say I didn't have anything to do with this."
     
    Jim agonized over whether to move Ruthe, who was on her side, unconscious, colorless, and clammy and who was bleeding from several wounds, including a continuous horrific gash across her breasts.
     
    "Jim?"
     
    "Shut up, Dan. Now." There was no blood coming from her mouth or her nose, so he took the chance and rolled her onto her back to bind her wounds as best he could with dish towels from the kitchen.
     
    "The truck's backed around," Dandy said from the door. He looked like he was going to puke.
     
    "Not in here," Jim said, pointing outside, and Dandy went gladly.
     
    "You'll need something to carry her out on." Dan's voice was steadier, and when Jim looked at him, he seemed back on balance. "Kitchen table?"
     
    It was on its side and one of the legs was broken off. Dan broke off the other three and he and Jim carefully maneuvered a cocooned Ruthe to the top of it. It was a small table, thankfully, but all the same, Jim skinned a knuckle getting it through the door. The stairs were a blasphemous negotiation, but they got the table and Ruthe into the back of the Explorer by putting the backseat down. Jim packed in everything he could find, pillows, bolsters, the cushions from the chairs and couch, anything to keep Ruthe from rolling with the motion of the vehicle. He piled the blankets high and checked her pulse again. Still fast and thready. Her skin hadn't warmed; and she still felt clammy.
     
    "Drive her to Niniltna," Jim said, "and get her on the first plane out of here."
     
    "What?" Dandy said, startled. "You're not taking her in?"
     
    "This didn't happen that long ago, Dandy. I might be able to catch whoever did this."
     
    Dandy looked at the ranger. "Yeah, but Jim—"
     
    Dan looked immensely relieved. Jim didn't have the time, or rather, Ruthe didn't, but he had to ask. "Why are you here?"
     
    "I wanted to ask Dina and Ruthe for help keeping my job," Dan said, nodding at the second snow machine pulled to one side of the yard. "I found them like you saw them. And before you ask, no, I didn't see anyone or hear anything."
     
    "Where'd you get the bruises?"
     
    The ranger looked at Dandy. "I was headed for the door to go for help when this guy barged in." He touched his forehead and winced. "The door caught me in the head and knocked me down. I guess I was out for a while, because next thing I know, you're here."
     
    Jim looked at him. Dan met his eyes without evasion. "What else?"
     
    "Nothing." Dan looked startled. "There isn't anything else."
     
    Time to fish or cut bait. Jim had known Dan O'Brian for fifteen years, and barring the importation of a bottle of blackberry brandy into a dry village for the purposes of stewing up a mess of mallards, the ranger had a crime-free record. He had wanted Dina and Ruthe's help, which eliminated a motive for murder, at least on the face of it. There was no time to waste. Jim made up his mind. "Dan, you ride in the back. Keep her as still as you can."
     
    "What?" Dandy said.
     
    "If she shows blood from the nose or mouth, roll her to one side, but only if she shows the blood."
     
    "Jim—" Dandy said.
     
    Jim turned to Dandy and said, "When you get to the strip, commandeer the first plane out. Get her to Ahtna as fast as you can."
     
    "George was there an—" Dandy looked at his watch "Jesus, was it only fifty minutes ago? He just brought the mail in from Ahtna. That's why I was here—I was bringing them their mail, like I do." Dandy looked down at Ruthe. He might have been about to cry. "It's usually good for a piece of Ruthe's pie."
     
    "Was he turning it around?" At Dandy's blank look, Jim reined in his