Nightmare Mountain by Peg Kehret Page A

ride up the mountain. But then what? There was no one up there who could help her. If the man followed her, she’d only be trapped again, and Glendon and Buckie with her. It would be better to have to go away with him than to die in the snow.
    Tears rolled slowly down her cheeks. Every muscle in her body ached. There was no escape.
    She wondered what he would do with her. Maybe, if she was lucky, he would only make her stay with him until he got the money for these llamas. She was glad now that she didn’t know who he was. She couldn’t give his name to the police, even if she escaped. Maybe he would leave her tied up somewhere while he went to Canada or Mexicoand then he’d call the authorities and tell them where to find her.
    And if she wasn’t lucky? It didn’t bother him to let Glendon freeze to death; why would he do anything to save her life?
    He wouldn’t. The knowledge seeped into Molly’s bones as surely as the cold had and it was just as chilling. He would never let her live. Why should he? If Glendon died, which seemed sure to happen now, she was the only one who could identify the thief. Why would he let her go?
    No! Every inch of her body cried out in protest. She had struggled too hard to survive the avalanche; she was too proud of the fact that she’d kept herself and Glendon alive through the long, cold night. She wouldn’t give up now. She wouldn’t! She’d save herself somehow. And she’d save Glendon, too.
    But how? How could she hope to escape when she was so tired and sore and hungry? If only there was someone to help her. She leaned against the side of the truck and closed her eyes. There was no one nearby except Glendon and he was in worse shape than she was. She wondered how he and Buckie were doing up there. Good old Buckie.
    Her eyes opened and she stood up straight. Buckie was a big, strong dog and he was fond of her. Would he be loyal enough to defend her, if necessary?
    Buckie minded well, because of his obedience training. Would he attack someone, on command?
    Molly remembered the gun. He didn’t have it in his hand today but he wore a heavy jacket. Maybe the gun was in his pocket. Even Buckie’s strength was no match for a gun and she was sure this man would shoot, if necessary.
    She hesitated. She didn’t want to endanger Buckie’s life. But what were her choices? If she didn’t take the risk, she and Glendon were goners, for sure.
    Molly walked toward the man. He had not yet caught one of the llamas. Each time he got a few feet from one of them, he rushed forward with the rope, and the animal would prance away.
    “It would be lots faster if you used Buckie to herd those llamas,” she said.
    “Who?”
    “Buckie. The dog. He’s trained as a sheep dog.”
    “Where is he?” There was an edge to his voice and she could tell he was frustrated by his inability to catch the llama.
    “He’s up on the mountain, with Glendon. Do you want me to go get him?”
    He stopped stalking the llama and looked at her. “How did the dog get up there?” he asked. “He wasn’t up there yesterday.”
    “I did make it down off the mountain yesterday, likeI said, only the sheriff’s line was busy and I couldn’t wait because Glendon was still buried in the snow. Buckie went back up with me. He’s the one who found where Glendon was buried. He could smell Glendon under the snow.”
    “No kidding.”
    “He’s a smart dog,” Molly said. “And he knows how to work the llamas.”
    “All right. All right, go get him. But I warn you. You try anything funny and you’ll wish you hadn’t.”
    Molly trudged up the path, not at all sure she could make it to the lift. She had never felt so tired in her life. Tired and discouraged. She hated this mountain. She loathed the ranch and the snow and, most of all, the man with the gun. She even resented Uncle Phil for leaving her to cope with all of this alone.
    Keep going, she told herself. Right now, Buckie’s your only hope. Wearily, she