The news had forecasted snow for the next three days, but so far only a light frost had settled that evening. Beth donned a yellow cotton robe and took a seat on her back porch.  Her breath fogged in front of her with each strangled exhale she choked out between sobs.  Fights were rare between her and Jacob, and she wasn't fond of the helpless feeling that boiled in her gut.  It had been hours since he had gone to the bar to drink off their argument, but Beth stayed up to wait for his return so she could throw herself into his arms and apologize.

It didn't seem likely, considering the brief text.  Don't wait up had been his message, and it did little to quell the foreboding weight in her chest.

A pair of headlights in the distance made her heart leap.  The cold temporarily melted from her as she jumped to her feet and peered down the driveway.  A crestfallen look fell over her features at the sight of the guests' truck.  She settled back down in her lounger with her mug of tea and breathed in the herbal aroma.  Jasmine and lavender drifted promisingly around her, steaming her cheeks and taking a bit of the chill off.  She let her fingers curl around the mug, savoring its heat.

Cerberus hadn't ceased his barking in what felt like hours.  Her temples throbbed terribly at the incessant noise, but she ignored him and sipped at her drink.  It was the only distraction she had from her husband.  It wasn't like him to be gone so long, or so late.  In the past he would go out for a few drinks and be home by ten with apologies and kisses, though this time she knew it would be her responsibility to make amends.  

Beth heard the slamming of the truck's doors as the guests unloaded, no doubt from a long day of hunting.  A chill overtook her at the thought.  She wasn't a fool to believe that people didn't carry on the archaic practice, but she loathed contributing to the sport.  With those men shacked up in the old, remodeled barn, she felt as if the gun may as well have been placed in her own icy hands.  She was so consumed with the notion that she didn't notice the sound of the approaching footsteps until a soft voice called her name.

"Shit!" She flinched, spilling the contents of her mug all over the front of her robe.  

"I'm sorry!" Billy bent do to retrieve the fallen cup, cringing as he did so.  "Didn't mean to scare you, Mrs. Mercy," he apologized.  He handed her back the miraculously intact mug.  With the tea gone, the pear and apricot colored ceramic felt as frigid as her bare toes.

"No, its alright, I just didn't hear you." She jutted a thumb over to Cerberus.  The dog was still letting out yaps here and there, though he was significantly less excited than earlier.  That, or she had grown used to the sound.

"You seemed a bit lost in thought," he observed with quiet countenance.  

Beth chewed on her lip, a forced smile tugging at one side.  "Just," she took a deep breath and looked out over the pond, "enjoying the scenery." Billy followed her gaze, his eyes settling on the rowdy dog.

"Something got him spooked?" he inquired with a nod in Cer's direction.  He was laying on the banks, but every few seconds he would raise his head and bark. 

"No, no," she waved a hand in the air, "he's been at it all day.  I was going to bring him inside once you and your brothers got back so you didn't have to deal with all of his noise." A gust of wind swirled around them, rustling the leaves and sending a violent chill down her spine.  "Actually, I should do that now." She wrapped the dampened robe tighter around her and turned to call Cerberus.

"Mr. Mercy home?" The question caught her off guard.  She spun, quirking a brow at him.  Billy seemed to understand her hesitation and pointed behind him.  "Car's gone," he explained.  "It's supposed to get real cold tonight.  I heard snow was called for."

Beth blinked, ridding herself of whatever feeling was creeping up on her.  "Oh," she mumbled, "is it?" She couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Yeah," he said casually.  "Scott slipped on some black ice on our way back.  Roads are getting pretty bad." She nodded absentmindedly.  "Maybe give him a call and just tell him to drive careful.  A man could freeze in this weather." 

She stared at him for a moment, unsure of how to respond to his warning.  It was the most he'd ever spoken to her, spoken in general for that matter, and it unnerved her.  "I, uh," she fumbled, "need to change out of this." She gestured to the tea spill on her robe.  The wind chill made it feel like ice against her skin.  Not waiting for a response, she called out, "Cerberus!" The dog didn't move, turning to whines rather than his previous yapping.  "Cerberus come!" Nothing.  The dog wouldn't budge.  Another whip of the wind made her teeth chatter.

Billy cleared his throat, catching her attention.  "I'm awful sorry I scared you.  Why don't you go and change and maybe I can run him a bit.  Wear him out, you know," he offered with a shrug.

Beth glanced between him and Cerberus, trying to weigh her options.  She let out a decisive breath and smiled.  "You don't have to do that, Billy, really."

"It's no trouble at all, Mrs. Mercy.  I like dogs.  Used to have one just like him when I was a kid." His big eyes glistened with recollection as he breathed out, "Marv."

An easing of pressure spread throughout her chest and she let a small smile grace her features. "Alright," she agreed, "I'll just be a moment.  Good luck, though." She gave Cerberus a shake of her head. "He hasn't moved in hours."

Billy's lips tightened into a line, but he smiled nonetheless.  "I'll bribe him," he declared.  Beth gave him an encouraging final glance before heading inside the warmth of her home.  It felt like her very bones were defrosting in the wood heat.  

It took her less than five minutes to strip out of her damp clothes and don a pale pink sweater thick enough to keep the wind away.  She intended to wait up for Jacob, all night if she had to, on the back porch.  If he didn't come home at all, then she would at least have some peace watching the snow fall on her land. 

Slipping on a pair of wool socks in place of shoes, she padded back out to see if Billy had indeed gotten Cerberus to follow him.  She could still hear him barking, but he was nowhere near the pond any longer.  She sighed out happily at the small victory.  He was still being unnecessarily obnoxious, but she was grateful that Billy had at least urged him to move away from the pond.

Her joy was short lived as a yelp sounded from the other side of the house.  Her gut sank.  Another yelp followed by a pleading whine.  He was hurt.

Not caring to pull on boots, she dashed around the house, following the sound.  The yelping grew louder, louder, louder, and her heart hammered within her chest.  A thousand scenarios raced through her mind as she bolted to the guest house.  Had Billy not known the layout and ran him smack into the only barbed wire fence they had?  Had Cer been so frantic that he had caught his paw in a mole hill and twisted it out of place?

She ran and ran and ran until she reached the back of the guest house.  There, illuminated by a single lantern, was Cerberus.  He was not covered in bits of barbed wire, or limping on one paw.  He was bloodied in a way that had Beth's head turning to the side as she vomited all over the grass.  The sound of her heaving drew the stares of the three men standing around her beloved pet.

Billy was crossing his arms, leaning against the side of the house with a grimace fixed on his childlike face.  Scott didn't seem as affected by the sight of the dog and took to sitting on a pile of pallets with an impassive look.  Marshall, she couldn't bring herself to look at his expression, was covered in blood as well.  It didn't take her any time to work out what was happening.

"Alright, Marshall," Scott drawled in a bored tone, "enough messing around.  Funs over."

Beth opened her mouth, closed it, opened to say something, but closed it again.  Cerberus sniffed the air, crawling towards her on his front legs.  She felt nausea overtake her when she took in the sight of his hind legs.  They were bent, broken, and dragging limply behind him. His whines broke her heart and she found herself unable to move, to speak.  

Marshall scoffed dryly and took three steps toward the dog and raised a rifle she hadn't realized he had been holding.  The stock of it was caked in gore and she knew he had beaten him with it.  He took aim and Beth managed to squeak out a sharp, "No!"  It fell on deaf ears as a shot rang out in the night and Cerberus was no more.  

Hollow.  She felt so hollow.  "You don't look so good, Beth," Scott cooed at her.  "Maybe you should lay down," he suggested with malice lacing his words.

Her knees wobbled beneath her, head beginning to feel fuzzy, and her vision started to blur.  No.  She couldn't faint, not now.  She had to go, had to run, had to get away, but her senses overwhelmed her.  "Yeah," she vaguely registered Marshall's cocky voice, "take a nap." She looked up in time to see the bloodied butt of the rifle hurdling towards her face.