A Miracle The Bitterroot Mountains of Montana rimmed the valley from north to south. The light June breeze and sunny days had melted the snow off the mountains’ rugged faces and pine-studded shoulders. The snowmelt gushed into Como Lake Reservoir, which fed the irrigation ditches that wound through the ranchland in the valley below. So much snow had melted that the ditches nearly overflowed their banks. Many of them were so wide and deep they looked like rivers. Years before, railroad companies had built trestles to span them. Lady, a five-year-old, blood-bay mare, easily walked alongside the railroad tracks. The gravel crunched underneath her hooves while 17-year-old Suzy relaxed in the saddle and reviewed her interview for a summer job. She hadn’t been able to catch a ride to town in a car, but that wasn’t a big deal. Earlier that morning she’d ridden Lady into town and tied her outside the local hamburger joint while she applied for a job. Often she’d ride her horse the five miles to town by going along the railroad tracks.
