Elias extinguished the lantern.
“Samuel, away from the window.”
The boy obeyed immediately.
Clara rose.
“Is it them?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying.”
“Yes.”
Elias lifted his rifle from the pegs above the door.
Clara’s breathing quickened.
“How many?”
“Three.”
“Can they see the cabin?”
“They already know it’s here.”
“How?”
Elias glanced at her.
“Smoke.”
She looked toward the chimney.
Panic flashed across her face.
“Then this is our fault.”
“No.”
“If we hadn’t come—”
“They were looking for you before you found me.”
He checked the rifle chamber.
“That means this started long before yesterday.”
Samuel moved closer to Clara.
She wrapped an arm around him.
Elias pointed toward a trapdoor beneath the rug.
“Root cellar.”
Clara stared.
“I’m not hiding while you—”
“You’re hiding because Samuel is hiding.”
That ended the argument.
She lifted the rug.
Samuel descended first.
Clara followed halfway before looking back.
“Elias.”
It was the first time she had used his name.
“If something happens…”
“Close it.”
“Please.”
“I said close it.”
For a second, anger flashed in her eyes.
Then fear.
Then trust.
She shut the door.
Elias dragged the table across it.
The riders approached.
He heard horses snorting.
Leather creaking.
Then silence.
A fist struck the door.
Not weakly.
Three hard blows.
Elias waited.
“Mercer!”
A man shouted from outside.
Elias recognized the voice.
Caleb Rusk.
The silver-toothed foreman.
Elias moved beside the door.
“What?”
“We need to talk.”
“Talk from there.”
Rusk laughed.
“We’re freezing.”
“Then talk faster.”
Another man muttered something.
Rusk spoke again.
“We’re looking for two runaways.”
Elias said nothing.
“Girl in her twenties. Big woman. Dark hair. Little boy with her.”
“Seen plenty of squirrels.”
“This ain’t funny.”
“Wasn’t meant to be.”
Rusk struck the door.
“They stole property.”
Elias tightened his grip on the rifle.
“What property?”
“Documents belonging to Mr. Wade.”
“Then Wade should learn to guard his paperwork.”
A pause.
Rusk lowered his voice.
“Mercer, I know who they are.”
Elias remained silent.
“And I know what they are to you.”
Elias felt cold despite the fire.
“Then you also know I don’t like people showing up uninvited.”
“They ain’t family.”
The sentence was deliberately cruel.
“You haven’t seen Rebecca in twenty years.”
“Fourteen.”
“What?”
“I said fourteen.”
Silence.
Then Rusk laughed again.
“You always were particular.”
“What do you want?”
“The papers.”
“No idea what you’re talking about.”
“Thomas Mercer’s statement.”
Elias’s pulse hammered.
So Wade knew exactly what had survived.
“Never heard of it.”
“Then let us search.”
Elias almost smiled.
“No.”
A gunshot exploded.
The window shattered.
Samuel cried out beneath the floor.
Elias fired through the door.
A man screamed.
Chaos erupted outside.
Horses reared.
Someone fired again.
The bullet buried itself in the wall.
Elias dropped behind the stove.
He moved toward the broken window and fired once.
A rider cursed.
Then the horses thundered away.
Elias waited.
One minute.
Two.
Five.
Finally, silence returned.
He opened the door cautiously.
Blood stained the snow near a pine tree.
No body.
They had taken their wounded man.
Elias shut the door.
He moved the table.
Clara emerged immediately.
Samuel followed.
“You were shot at!”
“I noticed.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
She grabbed his coat anyway.
Her hands moved over his shoulders.
“Clara.”
“What?”
“I said I’m fine.”
She stopped.
Their faces were close.
Elias noticed the fear in her eyes.
Not fear of him.
Fear for him.
He was not prepared for how that felt.
She stepped back.
“I heard Samuel.”
The boy appeared from behind her.
“I’m okay.”
Elias crouched.
“You did exactly right.”
Samuel nodded bravely, though his face was pale.
Clara looked at the shattered window.
“They’ll come back.”
“Yes.”
“With more men.”
“Yes.”
“What do we do?”
Elias stared at the snow.
“We go to Red Creek.”
Her eyes widened.
“That’s where Wade is.”
“That’s also where the sheriff is.”
“Can the sheriff be trusted?”
Elias hesitated.
That was the problem.
Sheriff Nathan Cole was honest.
At least he had been years ago.
But Silas Wade owned half of Red Creek now.
A lumber mill.
A cattle operation.
Three stores.
Perhaps the sheriff too.
Still, the deed and Thomas’s statement needed to reach a judge.
Hiding would only delay the inevitable.
“We can’t stay here.”
Samuel asked, “Tonight?”
“No. At daylight.”
Clara looked outside.
“Can Samuel make it?”
“He won’t have to.”
Elias stepped into the lean-to and returned with a pair of snowshoes.
“I have a sled.”
By sunrise, the storm had ended.
The world outside looked impossibly clean.
Elias packed food, ammunition, blankets, and the evidence.
Clara watched him put Thomas’s statement inside his shirt.
“You trust me with this?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Mother did.”
That simple answer silenced him.
Samuel sat on the wooden sled wrapped in furs.
Clara helped pull while Elias broke trail.
For several hours, nobody spoke.
The mountain gave no sign that armed men had visited the night before.
At noon, they stopped beside a frozen creek.
Samuel ate jerky.
Clara sat on a fallen log.
Elias noticed blood on the snow beside her boot.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“Just a blister.”
He knelt.
She pulled her foot away.
“I’m fine.”
“You can barely walk.”
“I walked here.”
“And nearly froze to death.”
“That seems to bother you.”
“Yes.”
The word surprised both of them.
Elias removed her boot.
Her heel was raw.
He cleaned it with melted snow and wrapped it with cloth.
Clara watched him.
“You’re different from what Mother said.”
He glanced up.
“What did she say?”
“That you were impossible.”
“That part’s accurate.”
“She said you never forgave anybody.”
Elias tied the bandage.
“She was wrong.”
“Were you angry with her?”
“For leaving?”
Clara nodded.
“For years.”
“Are you still?”
He sat back.
“No.”
“How can you know?”
“Because anger needs someone alive to receive it.”
Clara looked away.
“I was angry with her too.”
“For dying?”
“For keeping secrets.”
Elias understood that kind of anger.
It was easier than grief.
They continued downhill.
Near sunset, Elias found wagon tracks.
Fresh.
He crouched.
Clara noticed.
“What?”
“Two horses.”
“Rusk?”
“Maybe.”
He examined the prints.
“Coming from Red Creek.”
They made camp in an abandoned trapper’s hut.
Samuel slept between them.
Elias remained awake near the entrance.
Sometime after midnight, Clara joined him.
“You should sleep.”
“So should you.”
“I’m used to not sleeping.”
“So am I.”
They sat quietly.
Finally Clara spoke.
“Why did you come up here?”
Elias looked into the darkness.
“My father died. Rebecca vanished. People kept telling me to move on.”
“And you couldn’t.”
“No.”
“So you left.”
“Yes.”
“That isn’t moving on.”
“I know.”
A faint smile touched her mouth.
For the first time, Elias noticed that when Clara smiled, she looked younger.
Not fragile.
Just less burdened.
“I used to hate my size,” she said suddenly.
Elias glanced at her.
She laughed without humor.
“Strange thing to say.”
“Why?”
“Because men don’t understand.”
“Probably not.”
“People look at me and decide things.”
“What things?”
“That I’m lazy. That I eat too much. That I’m desperate. That I should be grateful if anyone is kind.”
Elias frowned.
“That’s stupid.”
Clara looked at him.
He shrugged.
“You walked eighty miles through winter while keeping an eight-year-old alive.”
Her eyes filled unexpectedly.
“Don’t.”
“What?”
“Be kind.”
He stared at her.
“Why?”
“Because then I’ll believe you.”
Before Elias could answer, a branch snapped outside.
He was on his feet instantly.
Rifle raised.
A shadow moved beyond the doorway.
Elias stepped forward.
“Who’s there?”
A voice answered.
“Don’t shoot.”
A man emerged from the trees with both hands raised.
Elias recognized him.
Sheriff Nathan Cole.
Elias did not lower the rifle.
“You’re far from town.”
Nathan looked exhausted.
“I rode all night.”
“Why?”
“Because Silas Wade has six men looking for those children.”
Clara stood.
Nathan saw her.
“Clara Hale?”
She did not answer.
Nathan removed his hat.
“Your mother came to me before she died.”
Elias’s grip tightened on the rifle.
“What did Rebecca tell you?”
Nathan’s expression darkened.
“She told me Silas Wade murdered your father.”