Josephine smelled smoke before she understood what she was seeing.
Orange fire raced across the barn roof.
The dry winter timber caught with terrifying speed.
Harlan ran for the door.
“Stay inside.”
“No.”
He turned.
Josephine had already pulled on boots and wrapped herself in a heavy shawl.
“Josephine—”
“Your animals are in there.”
“I’ll get them.”
“There are at least two men outside.”
“Exactly.”
“And you want to face them alone?”
“Yes.”
“That is stupid.”
Harlan stared at her.
She grabbed the iron poker.
“You told me to keep it.”
“This is not what I meant.”
“Poor choice of words.”
For one heartbeat, despite the fire, Harlan almost smiled.
Then another gunshot cracked through the trees.
He became serious.
“Stay behind me.”
They ran.
Snow hit Josephine’s face like sand.
The barn blazed against the black mountain.
Horses screamed inside.
Harlan reached the doors and pulled.
They had been chained from the outside.
“Someone locked them in!”
Josephine shouted.
Harlan swung an ax from beside the wall.
One strike.
Two.
The chain broke.
The doors exploded outward as panicked horses surged through.
Josephine jumped aside.
Harlan ran inside.
“Harlan!”
Smoke swallowed him.
Josephine heard another animal.
The mule.
She followed.
Heat struck her face.
“Harlan!”
“Back!”
“The mule!”
“I have him!”
A frightened mule kicked against its stall.
Harlan cut the rope.
A burning beam fell between them.
Josephine screamed.
Harlan shoved the mule through the smoke.
Then he seized Josephine around the waist.
She tensed instinctively.
“Beam!”
He pulled her backward as another section of roof collapsed where she had been standing.
They stumbled into the snow.
Josephine coughed violently.
Harlan released her the instant they were clear.
“You hurt?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“Stay here.”
He started around the barn.
Josephine grabbed his sleeve.
“You were shot at.”
“I know.”
“Then stop walking into darkness like you are bulletproof.”
Harlan looked at her hand gripping his coat.
Josephine released him.
“I have an idea.”
Ten minutes later, the two of them circled uphill while the barn burned below.
Josephine knew something Harlan did not.
As children, she and Elsie used to hide from their father near an abandoned logging trail above the Creek property whenever Silas came hunting or drinking.
Josephine had seen that trail during her arrival.
If Mercer’s men had climbed from the valley without using the main road, that was the route they would choose.
They found tracks.
Two horses.
Harlan touched the snow.
“Fresh.”
Josephine saw something glitter near a pine.
A brass button.
She picked it up.
An eagle stamped across the front.
“I know this.”
“Who?”
“Wade Pike wears a coat with these.”
Harlan’s expression darkened.
“That proves he was here.”
“It proves his button was.”
“You think somebody planted it?”
“I think Mercer does nothing without a reason.”
Harlan looked impressed.
Josephine noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You looked at me strangely.”
“I was thinking.”
“About?”
“You’re right.”
Josephine folded her arms.
“Careful. You might develop a reputation.”
Harlan actually smiled.
The expression disappeared when they heard hoofbeats below.
Someone was leaving.
By dawn, the barn was mostly ash.
They had saved four horses, a mule, and most of Harlan’s equipment, but the hay was gone.
One draft horse had suffered burns along its flank.
Josephine helped Harlan cool the injury with clean water.
“You know horses,” he said.
“My mother did.”
“She teach you?”
“Yes.”
Josephine stroked the trembling animal.
“My father hated that.”
“Why?”
“Said women who knew too much became argumentative.”
Harlan snorted.
“What?”
“Your father sounds frightened of many things.”
Josephine considered that.
She had always thought of Silas as powerful because everyone in the house moved carefully around him.
Perhaps fear and power were not the same.
They left for town after sunrise.
The storm had weakened.
Harlan hitched the sleigh to the two healthiest horses.
Josephine wore the green wool dress beneath a heavy coat he gave her.
No corset.
At first she felt exposed.
Then she realized nobody was there to inspect her shape.
She sat straighter than she had in years.
The journey took four hours.
When they reached the valley, people stared.
Josephine knew why.
Harlan Creek rarely came to town.
Harlan Creek never brought a woman.
And Josephine Vale had supposedly been sold to him the day before.
The first whisper reached her before they had crossed the square.
“That’s her.”
Another.
“Poor thing.”
Then:
“Look at the size of—”
Harlan stopped the sleigh.
The whisper stopped too.
Josephine touched his arm.
“Don’t.”
His eyes remained on the men outside the barber shop.
“I’m used to it.”
“That doesn’t make it right.”
“No. But I don’t want you punching everybody who insults me.”
“I wasn’t going to punch everybody.”
“Only some?”
“Yes.”
Josephine smiled.
They continued.
At the Vale house, Silas opened the door.
His expression shifted from surprise to irritation.
“You’re back already?”
Josephine climbed from the sleigh.
“Where is Elsie?”
Her father looked toward Harlan.
“What did she do?”
Harlan’s jaw tightened.
Josephine stepped between them.
“I asked you.”
Silas stared at her.
Something changed in his face.
Josephine realized why.
She had never spoken to him this way.
“Elsie’s inside.”
Josephine pushed past him.
Her sister ran from the kitchen.
“Jo!”
They embraced.
Elsie began crying.
Josephine held her tightly.
“Did he hurt you?”
“No.”
“Did Mercer?”
“No.”
“Pike?”
“No.”
Silas entered behind them.
“What is this foolishness?”
Josephine turned.
“Did you sign Elsie to Mercer?”
Silas went pale.
That was answer enough.
Elsie looked at their father.
“What?”
Silas immediately recovered.
“It is business.”
“You gambled her.”
“I did no such thing.”
“Harlan heard you.”
“That mountain animal has no understanding of finance.”
Harlan stood in the doorway.
Silas’s confidence weakened.
Josephine stepped closer to her father.
“How much do you owe?”
“None of your concern.”
“Six hundred dollars?”
Elsie gasped.
Silas glared.
“Mercer exaggerates.”
“How much?”
“Josephine—”
“How much?”
Silas raised his hand.
Harlan moved.
Josephine did not.
Her father stopped before striking her.
Not because Josephine flinched.
She did not.
Because Harlan stood behind her.
Josephine hated that part of herself felt safer because of his presence.
She wanted to be brave without needing another person.
But maybe courage did not mean standing alone.
Maybe it meant standing even when your knees were shaking.
Silas lowered his hand.
“You come into my house dressed like that and speak to me like a common—”
“Like what?”
Josephine looked down at herself.
“A woman who can breathe?”
Silas’s face tightened.
“A respectable woman wears proper foundation garments.”
“Aunt Lydia nearly cracked my ribs.”
“Ridiculous.”
“Harlan noticed in one minute.”
Silence.
Josephine continued.
“You watched for twenty-two years and never noticed anything unless it embarrassed you.”
Silas looked at Harlan.
“You paid for a wife. Control her.”
The room went still.
Harlan answered.
“I paid to stop you from selling your daughters.”
Silas’s face lost its color.
Elsie stared.
“What?”
Josephine turned to her sister.
Harlan placed the release document on the table.
“Josephine can leave whenever she wants.”
Silas snatched it.
“You cannot do this.”
“I already did.”
“You accepted a contract.”
“A contract she says was forced.”
Reverend Stokes appeared suddenly in the open doorway.
“That is a serious accusation.”
Josephine turned.
“What convenient timing.”
Stokes stepped inside.
“I heard Harlan Creek had returned.”
“With Mercer?”
“No.”
Josephine watched him.
“You witnessed my signature.”
“Yes.”
“You witnessed my father grab me.”
“I did not.”
Elsie spoke quietly.
“I did.”
Everyone turned.
Josephine stared at her sister.
Elsie’s face was white.
“I was in the pantry.”
Silas stepped forward.
“You were supposed to be upstairs.”
“I heard Jo say no.”
“Elsie—”
“I heard you threaten her.”
Silas raised his hand.
This time Josephine caught his wrist.
Her father looked stunned.
So was she.
“Never again,” Josephine said.
She released him.
Silas stepped back.
Reverend Stokes looked toward the door.
Harlan noticed.
“So now we have a witness.”
Stokes swallowed.
“It is still complicated.”
“Not really,” Josephine said.
She turned to Elsie.
“Pack.”
Silas laughed.
“She is not leaving.”
“Yes, she is.”
“This is my house.”
Josephine met his eyes.
“And she is not your property.”
Silas looked at Harlan.
“You think you can take both?”
Harlan’s expression hardened.
“They aren’t things to take.”
Elsie ran upstairs.
Silas followed.
Harlan blocked him.
For a moment Josephine thought her father would attack.
Instead, he backed down.
Ten minutes later, Elsie returned carrying one bag and their mother’s quilt.
They stepped outside.
Half the street was watching.
Mercer stood across the square.
Beside him was Wade Pike.
Mercer smiled.
“Going somewhere?”
Harlan stepped forward.
Josephine stopped him.
Then she walked toward Mercer herself.
“Christmas Eve,” she said.
Mercer’s smile widened.
“Looking forward to it.”
“So am I.”
The smile faltered.
Josephine pointed toward his coat.
“Tell Wade he lost a button.”
Pike’s hand moved instinctively toward his coat.
Harlan saw it.
Mercer did too.
Nobody spoke.
Josephine smiled slightly.
Then she returned to the sleigh.
As they drove away, Elsie whispered, “What button?”
Josephine looked at Harlan.
“The first mistake they made.”
Harlan shook his head.
“No.”
“What?”
“The first mistake was assuming you were afraid.”
Josephine stared ahead as the town disappeared behind them.
She was afraid.
Terribly.
But Harlan was beginning to teach her something nobody in her family ever had.
Fear did not always mean stop.
Sometimes it only meant the thing in front of you mattered.