CHRISTMAS AT THUNDER HORSE RANCH by Elle James Page B

group had stepped forward to claim responsibility for shooting down his helicopter.
    He’d checked in with his boss, who informed him that the police and investigation team from the state crime lab had combed over the burned out hull of the helicopter finding no more evidence or gleaning any more information than he’d already imparted. The snowstorm had covered the snowmobile tracks and more snow was predicted within the next twenty-four hours.
    The winter that had held off until now had set in and wouldn’t loosen its hold until late April.
    Emma slept for the first hour and a half of the drive to Bismarck. The road crews had worked hard to clear the interstate highways between Grand Forks and Fargo and between Fargo and Bismarck. Other than a few slick spots, they hadn’t had to slow too much, but the wind blowing in from the northwest pounded the rental, forcing them to use a lot more gasoline than if it had been calm.
    By the time Dante reached the hospital in Bismarck, he was ready for the break before the additional three-hour trip to Thunder Horse Ranch. The clouds were settling in, making the sky a dark gray. If they didn’t get on the road soon, they might not make it to the ranch. The weather reports on the radio were predicting whiteout conditions starting after dark.
    As he pulled into the hospital parking lot, he braced himself for what he’d find. Cell phone reception had been limited between Fargo and Bismarck, with long stretches without any reception whatsoever.
    When they’d neared Bismarck, he’d checked his phone. No missed calls and no text messages. He prayed that no news was good news, and climbed out of the car, stretching stiff muscles.
    Before he could get around to the passenger side, Emma was already on the snowy ground, pulling the collar of her coat up around her ears.
    They entered the hospital together. Emma took his hand and squeezed it. “If your brothers are anything like you, they’ll be fine. Thunder Horse men seem to be pretty tough.”
    He returned the pressure on her hand, thankful she’d come with him. Dante remembered where the ICU was located having been there when his father was taken there. He’d died in the ICU shortly after he’d been admitted to the hospital.
    The acrid scent of disinfectants and rubbing alcohol still brought back bad memories and reminded him of his loss.
    It was exactly noon when he stepped out of the elevator and saw his mother, surrounded by Julia and Roxanne, talking to a man in a white lab coat.
    Dante hurried forward, still holding on to Emma’s hand. “What’s going on? How’s Pierce?” he demanded.
    His mother turned, her face lighting up when she saw him. “Dante.” She wrapped him in her arms and hugged him so tight he could barely breathe. And it felt good. Like coming home.
    After a moment, he set her away from him and asked again, “How’s Pierce?”
    “Oh, Dante.” His mother wiped a tear from the corner of her eye and Dante’s stomach fell.
    Roxanne stepped forward and draped an arm around Amelia’s shoulders. “He woke up.” A smile spread across her face and her eyes misted. “He woke up a while ago. Briefly. The doc says that’s a good sign.” She bit down on her bottom lip and a tear slid from her eye and down her cheek.
    For as long as Dante had known Roxanne, she’d never cried in front of him. To see her cry now was nearly his undoing. “Is he going to be okay?”
    The doctor stepped forward. “As far as we can tell, he appears to be recovering. We’re going to keep him a little longer to monitor his condition. If he continues to improve, he should be able to go home.”
    His mother smiled through her tears. “It’s a miracle.” She shook her head. “The news showed pictures of his truck and it’s a wonder he’s still alive.”
    “Where’s Tuck?”
    “Someone looking for me?” Tuck appeared behind him, carrying two cups of steaming coffee. He walked with a limp, but he was wearing jeans and a