PART 2 — THE RED STRIPES IN THE WHITEOUT

The first child disappeared at four o’clock.

His name was Peter Lindquist, Dagny’s youngest son. He had been standing beside the schoolhouse stove when the teacher counted the children for the third time. Then a gust of wind shattered one of the windows, and Peter vanished in the confusion.

Nobody knew whether he had run toward the door or been carried outside when the storm burst through the broken window.

By the time the teacher realized he was missing, the snow had already covered his footprints.

Inside the schoolhouse, twenty-two children huddled together beneath coats and blankets. Their teacher, Miss Abigail Foster, had pushed every desk against the broken window and burned the last pieces of kindling in the stove.

But the fire was dying.

And the temperature inside the little building was falling.

Outside, the rescue party struggled through a world that had become nothing but wind and snow.

Ezra Pell, the merchant, had tied himself to the rope behind the blacksmith. Two ranchers followed him. Halvor was supposed to be among them, but nobody knew where he was.

The men had started toward the schoolhouse before the worst of the storm arrived.

Now they were fighting simply to remain upright.

Every few steps, the blacksmith shouted a warning.

Every few minutes, someone checked the rope.

And whenever the wind briefly weakened, they searched for the red stripes on the coats ahead.

Those stripes were the only reason they could still see one another.

At the Ingram ranch, Odessa stood beside the kitchen window.

She had not sat down in nearly two hours.

The sewing machine was silent. Her hands were clasped so тιԍнтly that her knuckles had turned pale.

Mrs. Bell moved between the stove and the door, checking the kettle, the lamps, and the fire.

“Come away from that window,” she urged. “You’re going to make yourself sick.”

“I need to see the road.”

“You won’t see anything in this weather.”

“Then I’ll keep looking.”

Mrs. Bell sighed.

“Daniel never should have gone out.”

“Daniel isn’t the only person out there.”

“No. But he’s the only person you seem to be waiting for.”

Odessa turned.

Mrs. Bell’s expression softened.

The older woman had noticed the way Odessa looked toward the barn whenever Halvor crossed the yard. She had noticed how he always left a fresh bucket of water beside the sewing machine and how Odessa quietly saved the warmest biscuit for him.

Neither had said anything about it.

They had only been married a few months.

But something had begun growing between them, something neither quite knew how to name.

“He promised he’d come home,” Odessa whispered.

Mrs. Bell reached for her hand.

“Then let’s give him a reason to hurry.”

A loud pounding interrupted them.

Both women turned.

A young boy stood outside the door, barely visible beneath the snow covering his shoulders.

It was Samuel Reed, the blacksmith’s twelve-year-old nephew.

Odessa opened the door and pulled him inside.

“Samuel! What happened?”

“The schoolhouse,” he gasped. “They need more blankets. Miss Foster says the children are freezing.”

“Where is your uncle?”

“Leading the rescue party. He sent me back when the rope started breaking.”

Odessa looked at the boy’s coat.

It was one of the gray coats she had made, but the red stripe was almost completely covered in snow.

“How did you get here?”

“I followed the fence.”

She stared at him.

“Alone?”

He nodded.

Odessa wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and brought him to the fire.

Then she turned toward Mrs. Bell.

“We have to go.”

“Go where?”

“To the schoolhouse.”

“Absolutely not!”

“Those children need help.”

“And you’ll be buried in ten minutes!”

Odessa looked at the rows of finished coats stacked in the barn loft.

Then she remembered the twenty-three smaller coats she had made for the schoolchildren.

She had designed each one with an extra-wide hood and a long red stripe down the back.

The coats had been intended to protect them from the cold.

Now they might help someone find them.

“Mrs. Bell, we have a sled.”

“We do.”

“And two strong horses.”

“Odessa—”

“We can load the blankets, the spare coats, and the lanterns. We don’t have to reach the schoolhouse ourselves. We only need to get supplies to the rescue party.”

Mrs. Bell looked toward the window.

For a moment, neither spoke.

Then the older woman took her shawl from the peg.

“Fetch the horses.”

At the same time, Halvor was crawling through the snow near the frozen creek.

He had found Colm.

The boy was conscious when Halvor reached him, but he could barely speak. His leg was trapped beneath a fallen branch, and snow had drifted over his shoulders.

Halvor dropped to his knees.

“Colm! Can you hear me?”

The young man moved his head.

“Mr. Ingram?”

“I’m here.”

“I thought you wouldn’t find me.”

Halvor grabbed the branch and tried to move it.

It barely shifted.

He tried again, using both hands.

Nothing.

Then he pulled the small axe from his belt and began clearing the smaller branches around it.

The wind battered his back.

His fingers were growing numb.

But he refused to stop.

“Hold on, boy.”

Colm’s eyes fluttered.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I shouldn’t have gone after that calf.”

Halvor stopped for a moment.

“You went after an animal because you thought it might freeze. That’s nothing to apologize for.”

He worked until the branch finally shifted.

Then he dragged Colm free and wrapped the buffalo robe around him.

The boy’s head fell against his shoulder.

Halvor looked across the empty white landscape.

He could not see the ranch.

He could not see the road.

He could not even see the creek anymore.

Then, in the distance, something flashed.

Red.

A second flash appeared.

Then a third.

Halvor narrowed his eyes.

The red shapes were moving slowly through the snow.

The rescue party.

He raised one arm and shouted.

The wind swallowed his voice.

He tried again.

This time, one of the men turned.

The blacksmith spotted him and pulled hard on the rope.

The entire line changed direction.

When they reached Halvor, Ezra Pell helped lift Colm.

“Good Lord, man!” Ezra shouted. “We’ve been looking everywhere!”

“He’s hurt. We need to get him somewhere warm.”

The blacksmith examined Colm.

“We can take him back to the ranch.”

“No,” Halvor replied. “The schoolhouse first. Those children need us.”

Ezra stared at him.

“You’re carrying an injured boy through this storm, and you still want to go forward?”

Halvor looked at the red stripes on the men’s hoods.

“If we turn back, we’ll lose the schoolhouse.”

He adjusted Colm in his arms.

“Let’s move.”

By then, Odessa and Mrs. Bell had reached the edge of Plum Bluff.

They had loaded the sled with blankets, coats, food, and two large lanterns. Samuel had insisted on coming along, and Odessa had finally agreed after wrapping him in an extra coat.

The horses struggled through the drifts.

Twice, the sled nearly overturned.

Once, they had to stop and clear a fallen branch from the road.

Then Odessa saw something ahead.

A small shape moving against the wind.

She pulled the reins.

“Samuel!”

The boy leaned forward.

“Is that someone?”

They climbed down.

A child was stumbling through the snow, wearing a gray coat with a red stripe.

Odessa ran toward him.

“Peter!”

The boy looked up.

His face was pale, and his lips trembled.

“Mrs. Lindquist?”

“No, sweetheart. It’s Odessa.”

She wrapped him in her arms.

“What happened?”

“I couldn’t find the school.”

He began to cry.

Odessa lifted him onto the sled and covered him with a blanket.

“It’s all right. We’re going to get you home.”

Then she noticed something.

Peter’s coat had a torn pocket.

A small wooden whistle hung from a string around his neck.

She recognized it.

Dagny had told her that Peter never went anywhere without it.

Odessa took the whistle and placed it safely inside his coat.

“Now, let’s get you somewhere warm.”

But as she climbed back onto the sled, a voice called from behind them.

“Odessa!”

She turned.

A figure was approaching through the snow.

It was Halvor.

He was carrying Colm while two men followed with the rope between them.

For one heartbeat, Odessa could only stare.

Then she ran.

“Halvor!”

He saw her and stopped.

His face was exhausted. Snow covered his hat and shoulders. His beard was frozen, and his eyes looked painfully tired.

But he was alive.

Odessa reached him and touched his arm.

“You came back.”

He looked at her as if he could not believe she was standing there.

“You shouldn’t be out here.”

“Neither should you.”

For the briefest moment, they simply looked at each other.

Then Colm groaned.

Odessa immediately turned toward the boy.

“Put him on the sled. We have blankets.”

The blacksmith helped lower Colm carefully.

Mrs. Bell climbed down and began wrapping the boy in wool.

Halvor looked at the loaded sled.

“You brought all this?”

“The children need it.”

He stared at her.

“You came through this storm?”

“Of course.”

“Odessa, you could have been killed.”

“So could you.”

He had no answer.

Then Ezra shouted from the road.

“We have to keep moving! The schoolhouse is ahead!”

Odessa looked toward the distant white wall.

“Take the supplies. We’ll follow.”

Halvor caught her hand.

“Wait.”

She turned.

He looked at their joined hands, then at her face.

“I was wrong.”

“About what?”

“About that machine.”

The wind roared around them.

He swallowed.

“When you arrived, I thought you’d brought another expense into my life. I thought I needed a wife who could help me keep the ranch alive.”

His voice broke slightly.

“But you brought something much bigger than that.”

Odessa’s eyes filled.

“Halvor—”

“You brought people together. You gave this town a way to help itself. And tonight, those red stripes are leading us through a storm that might have taken all of us.”

He тιԍнтened his hand around hers.

“I don’t know how to thank you.”

Odessa looked toward the schoolhouse.

“Bring the children home safely. That will be enough.”

He nodded.

Then the two of them turned toward the storm.

When the rescue party finally reached the schoolhouse, Miss Foster had gathered the children into a тιԍнт circle around the stove.

There was almost no fire left.

The youngest girl, little Martha Bell, was crying quietly beneath a blanket.

Then someone pounded on the door.

Miss Foster rushed toward it.

“Who is there?”

“It’s Ezra Pell! Open up!”

The door swung inward.

The first man stepped inside.

Then another.

Then Halvor.

The children began shouting when they recognized him.

Behind him, Odessa entered carrying a bundle of small coats.

“Everyone needs to put one of these on,” she said.

Miss Foster stared at the coats.

“Odessa? How did you get here?”

“There’s no time. Let’s get the children dressed.”

Within minutes, the room was filled with movement.

Blankets were distributed. Coats were fastened. The youngest children were wrapped in extra wool.

Then Odessa noticed one small girl standing near the wall.

She was holding a boy’s hand.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Annie.”

“Why aren’t you putting on your coat?”

Annie looked down.

“It’s too big.”

Odessa knelt and examined it.

The sleeves were too long, and the collar covered the child’s chin.

“That’s all right. We’ll fix it.”

She pulled a needle and thread from her pocket.

Even in the middle of a blizzard, with twenty-three children waiting to be rescued, she made a quick adjustment.

Then she fastened the coat around Annie’s shoulders.

“There. Now you’re ready.”

Annie touched the red stripe on her hood.

“Why did you put this on all our coats?”

“So people can find you in the snow.”

The little girl looked up.

“Will you find us?”

Odessa brushed the snow from her hair.

“Every time.”

Outside, the wind began to weaken.

Not much.

But enough.

And for the first time that evening, the men believed they might bring every child home.

Yet as the rescue party prepared to leave, Halvor noticed something strange.

There were twenty-three children in the schoolhouse.

But Miss Foster had counted only twenty-two.

He turned toward her.

“Where is the last child?”

The teacher’s face went pale.

“Peter Lindquist.”

“He’s safe,” Odessa called from the doorway. “We found him.”

Miss Foster exhaled.

Then Halvor noticed a second empty place near the stove.

“Who is that?”

Miss Foster looked down.

“Jonas Bell. He was helping me carry wood when the window broke.”

Mrs. Bell froze.

“Jonas?”

The older woman turned toward the storm.

Her grandson was still missing.

And suddenly, the relief of finding Peter was replaced by a new terror.

Because Jonas had been wearing one of Odessa’s red-striped coats when he disappeared.