Gareth stared out of the frosty, grimy windows of the cabin as he watched the violent snow spin across his family's fields. The wind gusts had damaged the gate he and his father had built back in the summer and the animals were now in danger. With the toe of his boot, he anxiously dug a hole in the dirt floor. He was under strict orders to stay in the house with his baby sister until his parents returned home.
Looking over his shoulder at his fifteen month old sister, Meg, who was chewing on the edge of her blanket on the floor. Gareth knew he couldn't leave her in the cabin alone. There were too many things Meg could get into while he was out in the cold. Gareth considered taking her outside with him while he fixed the gate, but Meg's health was fragile since she was such a little thing.
Gareth turned back to the window, a worried frown on his twelve year old face. Mother and father should have been back from town by now. They had taken the team of horses and the cart this morning to pick up the mail and place an order at the general store for Christmas presents.
Gareth wasn't supposed to know about the presents, but it was hard to keep a secret in their tiny two room cabin. Mother and father had been whispering with their heads together for a week now in deep discussion over the Sears catalog, and Gareth hoped he was finally going to get his very own shotgun.
Glancing at the hearth, Gareth looked enviously at his father's shotgun which was hung high on the wall above the fire. Only his father was tall enough to reach the gun, but Gareth was proud that he was within an inch or two of being big enough to get it down. But Father had shown him how to clean the gun, and had even let him shoot it a few times way out in the back forty far from the house.
"Ga-Gar," Meg called out to Gareth holding her arms up and smiling, showing off her four tiny teeth.
Gareth went over to Meg and picked her up off the floor. He settled her on his hip, and she wrapped her arms and legs around him.
"Ma-ma?" she asked. Her straight blonde hair was pulled back in a messy bow, and her little white dress was wrinkled, but she smelled like spring flowers. Mother had given her a bath this morning before leaving for town.
"She and Father aren't home yet, Meg. They'll be here soon. Remember? They left me in charge," He thought back to that morning. He'd been so proud of being left in charge, but now he could hear the worry bleeding through into his voice.
Meg sniffled a few times, and a tear ran down her face. Gareth could tell she was about to cry in earnest, so he tried distracting her with one of Mother's biscuits. Meg gave him a look that said "I know what you're doing," but she took the biscuit and settled down.
Gareth walked back to the window with Meg. The snow was coming down harder and it was starting to drift against the side of the barn. The broken gate scraped and moaned in the wind as it hung lifelessly from one of it's hinges.
He looked out toward the road beyond our house and thought he saw movement in the trees. Meg bounced on his hip as Gareth stared out through the thick snow and darkening sky. Narrowing his gaze trying to see clearly through the snow, Gareth saw the shadowy movement again. Then it was gone.
His heart started to race. What was that out there? Gareth tried to put Meg down, but she squirmed and held him tighter.
Just then an long, doleful cry filled the air. The sound was joined by more and more until a cacophony of baying filled him with fear. Gareth's stomach dropped as the howls cut through the twilight. Wolves!
Meg began to cry. She clutched Gareth tightly as six large, grey wolves gathered at the edge of the woods near the broken gate.
"Doggy?" Meg whispered and pointed a pudgy finger.
"Wolves," Gareth whispered back to her.
The biggest wolf's head jerked up as if he had heard Gareth, and he met it's eyes through the window. For a long time he and Gareth stared at one another, and the only sound Garth could hear was his heart racing in his ears. The wolf broke the eye contact and stepped inside the gate. The pack slowly stalked toward the barn.
"The animals!" Gareth gasped. His father had put all the animals inside the barn that morning. He had known there was a chance of snow, and he had wanted them to be warm and dry. They had a dairy cow, named Betsy, and two goats, named Matilda and Norman, and there were two fat pigs named Oscar and Hazel. There were also the chicken, Rosie, Petunia, and Clover and the rooster, Pete. The two doors of the barn were closed and latched, but the wolves might be still be able to get in.
As the wolves got closer to the barn, Gareth banged on the window pane and yelled. Meg helped shrieking and pounding her little fist too.
The wolves froze and looked at the small house. The big wolf met Gareth's eyes again for a second and then dismissed him as a threat. They continued to slink toward the barn through the snow, smelling for a way to get in.
Frantically Gareth looked around for something he could throw at them or use to scare them off. His eyes fell on the shotgun above the hearth.
"Meggy," Gareth said trying to sound grown up. "I need to set you down for a minute." I unwound her arms from my neck and set her down on the floor. Her bottom thumped lightly on the dirt.
"Ga-Gar?" she pouted at him holding up her arms.
"Just a minute, Meggy. I need to --" he grabbed one of the wooden chairs from under the table and dragged it over to the fireplace. Standing on the seat, Gareth stretched up to pull the gun from off of the wall.
Holding the gun carefully in his left hand, he raced over to the door and flung it open. Freezing cold wind and snow ripped into the warms of our house, the fire flared and went out behind Gareth, and Meg began to cry.
He lifted the gun up with his right hand and settled it into his shoulder, and put his cheek against the stock. Gareth's finger stroked the trigger. He was afraid to shoot at the wolves. What if he missed and the bullet went into the barn and hit one of the animals? He lifted the barrel high, hoping the sound of the gun would be enough to frighten the wolves away, and Gareth pulled the trigger.
The shot rang out, impossibly loud. The kick of the gun knocking Gareth back a little into the house.
The wolves jumped and ran for the cover of the woods outside the gate, but the big one stopped near the house and met Gareth's eyes again. He stood his ground, and Gareth could hear him growling softly. Once again Gareth aimed the shotgun this time at the wolf and pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. He needed to reload the gun!
The wolf advanced towards Gareth sensing he was defenseless. He stepped back into the house and slammed the door. Gareth moved to the window and saw the other wolves were joining the big wolf outside the cabin.
Gareth was just stepping toward the hearth for the bullets father kept there when the wolves all lifted their heads. Soundlessly they ran into the woods outside the gate. Gareth only had a second to wonder why they had left when he heard the hoof-beats racing down the road.
Gareth put the shotgun down on the table, picked up Meg, and ran to the window. It was mother and father!
Father jumped down from the wagon and quickly helped Mother down, and they hurried into the house.
"I heard the shot," Father said. He had snow all over his shoulders and on his hat and his face was red from the cold. Mother quickly shut the door and took Meg from Gareth, soothing her and wiping her tears away.
"Wolves," Gareth said.
Father nodded grimly. He took the shotgun from the table and quickly reloaded it. He went back outside and led the houses into the barn.
"You did well, Gareth," Mother said. She put her hand on Gareth's shoulder and squeezed gently. "Father is just going to settle the horses and take a look around."
Gareth smiled at his mother. He was so glad they were home safely, and he didn't have to be in charge any more!
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