Kate heard them too.
Her face changed instantly.
“Horses.”
Rose stood beside the boiling water with her hands frozen around the pot.
“Who would come up here tonight?”
Nobody answered because everyone in the cabin understood the same thing.
Nobody friendly would travel Ironpine Ridge during a blizzard.
Caleb tried to rise.
The attempt lasted less than a second before pain drove him back against the floor.
“Rifle.”
“No,” Eleanor said.
“Eleanor.”
“You can barely stay conscious.”
“Rifle.”
Kate was already moving.
She pulled Caleb’s Winchester from its pegs above the fireplace and carried it toward him.
Eleanor caught her wrist.
“He can’t even stand.”
Caleb’s eyes remained fixed on the door.
“How many horses?”
Kate listened.
“Four. Maybe five.”
Caleb cursed quietly.
Lucy had stopped crying.
That frightened Eleanor more than if she had screamed.
The nine-year-old stood near the bed clutching Caleb’s wool coat against her chest.
Rose crossed the room and pulled Lucy behind her.
A fist struck the cabin door.
“Blackwood!”
Eleanor recognized the voice.
Her blood went cold.
Vernon Briggs.
Caleb reached again for the rifle.
This time Eleanor handed it to him.
“Stay down.”
She turned to Kate.
“Your revolver.”
Kate hurried toward the small pistol Caleb had allowed her to practice with.
Another blow shook the door.
“Open up!”
“Why?” Caleb shouted.
His voice sounded far stronger than he looked.
Briggs answered.
“We’ve got business.”
“Then conduct it from the porch.”
A second man spoke.
Marshal Horace Bell.
“Caleb Blackwood, by authority of Hollow Creek, open this door.”
Caleb gave Eleanor a bitter look.
“That sounds official.”
“What do they want?”
“I reckon we’re about to find out.”
Eleanor grabbed the kitchen knife.
Then she crossed the room.
Caleb caught her ankle before she reached the door.
“Don’t.”
“They came for us.”
“Probably.”
“So hiding won’t change anything.”
His grip weakened.
Eleanor knelt beside him.
“You cannot protect us by bleeding to death on the floor.”
For several seconds, they stared at one another.
Then Caleb released her.
Eleanor approached the door.
“Who is with you?”
Briggs laughed.
“Still bossy, Whitmore?”
“Answer me.”
The marshal spoke.
“Vernon Briggs. Deputy Lyle Mercer. Silas Crowe.”
Eleanor’s stomach tightened.
Of course Crowe had come.
“What do you want?”
Crowe answered this time.
“There has been a legal complication concerning your father’s debt.”
Eleanor almost laughed.
“You accepted six hundred dollars.”
“The payment is under dispute.”
“Why?”
“Open the door and we’ll discuss it.”
Caleb called from the floor.
“Discuss it through the wood.”
Crowe’s tone changed.
“The gold Blackwood used may have been unlawfully obtained.”
Caleb actually laughed.
It was a low, dangerous sound.
“From whom?”
“We are investigating.”
“No,” Eleanor said. “You are not taking us anywhere.”
“You remain subjects of the debt order until ownership of the payment is confirmed.”
“Ownership?”
The word struck Eleanor like a slap.
Crowe had not called them women.
He had called them subjects of an order.
Things to be transferred.
Things to be counted.
She looked back at Rose, Kate and Lucy.
Something hardened in her.
“No.”
Briggs slammed his fist against the door.
“You don’t decide.”
Eleanor lifted the wooden bar into place.
“I just did.”
Silence.
Then Briggs said something she could not hear.
Caleb struggled upright against the wall.
“Get away from the door.”
Eleanor moved.
A gunshot exploded.
The bullet tore through the wood where her shoulder had been.
Lucy screamed.
Caleb raised the Winchester.
He fired once toward the ceiling.
Outside, horses reared.
“Next one goes through the man who fired,” Caleb shouted.
The storm swallowed the echo.
For a moment, nobody moved.
Then Marshal Bell shouted from outside.
“Briggs! I told you nobody fires unless I order it!”
“You think they’re just going to come willingly?” Briggs shouted.
Crowe’s voice followed.
“Enough!”
Eleanor looked toward Caleb.
His face had turned gray.
Blood was soaking through the cloth around his thigh again.
She hurried to him.
“You’re reopening the wounds.”
“Then stitch faster.”
Despite herself, Eleanor almost smiled.
“You’re impossible.”
“So I’m told.”
Outside, the men moved away from the porch.
The sisters waited.
Five minutes.
Ten.
Fifteen.
Caleb’s eyelids began drooping.
Eleanor returned to the wound.
“Rose, hold the lamp.”
She stitched quickly while Kate watched the windows.
Lucy crouched beside Caleb’s head.
“Are you dying?”
Caleb opened one eye.
“Not tonight.”
“Promise?”
He looked at her.
Something painful crossed his face.
“I promise to make it difficult.”
Lucy considered that.
“All right.”
The next sound came from behind the cabin.
Glass shattered.
Kate screamed.
A hand reached through the broken pantry window.
Without hesitation, Kate swung the iron skillet.
The hand disappeared.
A man cursed outside.
“Good girl,” Caleb muttered.
Kate stared at him.
“You taught me.”
“I taught you to shoot.”
“You said use whatever is closest.”
“Fair enough.”
Eleanor tied the last stitch.
Then she heard boots on the roof.
“Caleb.”
“I hear them.”
Briggs was trying the chimney.
Smoke suddenly backed into the room.
“They’re blocking it!” Rose cried.
Caleb’s expression turned cold.
“They mean to smoke us out.”
Eleanor looked around.
Four sisters.
One injured man.
One rifle.
One small revolver.
A blizzard outside.
There would be no rescue.
Then she saw Caleb’s trapdoor.
Two weeks earlier, she had noticed him disappearing beneath the floor for sacks of potatoes.
“The cellar.”
Caleb shook his head immediately.
“No.”
“There’s another exit?”
He did not answer.
“That means yes.”
“It opens behind the woodshed.”
“Then the girls go.”
“No.”
“Caleb.”
“If Crowe sees tracks—”
“The storm will cover them in minutes.”
A fresh wave of smoke entered the cabin.
Lucy coughed.
That ended the argument.
Eleanor turned toward her sisters.
“Coats. Now.”
Rose helped Lucy.
Kate loaded the small revolver.
Eleanor opened the trapdoor.
Cold darkness breathed upward.
Rose stared at her.
“Aren’t you coming?”
“In a minute.”
“No.”
“Rose.”
“We said we stay together.”
Eleanor looked toward Caleb.
He was barely conscious.
“I’m not leaving him.”
Kate immediately nodded.
“Then neither am I.”
Eleanor almost shouted in frustration.
Caleb did it for her.
“All of you go.”
Kate glared at him.
“No.”
His eyes sharpened.
“Listen to me. Crowe wants you alive. Briggs may not care. Those are two different dangers.”
He looked at Rose.
“Take Lucy through the cellar. Follow the stone markers until you reach the old trapper’s shelter. There’s food inside.”
“Caleb—”
“Go.”
Lucy ran to him instead.
She wrapped both arms around his neck.
“You promised.”
Caleb closed his eyes briefly.
“I know.”
“You come too.”
“I’ll try.”
“That’s not enough.”
For the first time since Eleanor had known him, Caleb appeared helpless.
Then he touched Lucy’s hair.
“I’ll come.”
Rose led Lucy into the cellar.
Kate hesitated.
Eleanor took her face between both hands.
“You protect them.”
“What about you?”
“I protect him.”
Kate’s eyes filled.
“You better come.”
“We will.”
Kate disappeared.
Eleanor closed the trapdoor.
Smoke continued spreading.
Caleb stared at her.
“You should’ve gone.”
“So should you.”
“I can’t walk.”
“Then I suppose we both make poor decisions.”
A corner of his mouth moved.
Outside, Briggs shouted.
“Last chance!”
Eleanor looked at Caleb.
“What happens if we surrender?”
“Crowe takes you back.”
“And you?”
Caleb’s expression told her.
She felt suddenly, violently calm.
“Then we’re not surrendering.”
Caleb examined the cabin.
“My powder horn.”
Eleanor handed it over.
He dragged himself toward the fireplace.
“What are you doing?”
“Giving them a reason not to burn my house.”
He poured a trail of black powder across the floor toward a crate near the far wall.
Eleanor stared.
“What’s inside that?”
“Enough blasting powder to remove half the cabin.”
Her eyes widened.
“You keep explosives in your house?”
“I live alone.”
“That explains nothing.”
“Wasn’t meant to.”
Caleb called toward the door.
“Briggs!”
“What?”
“You still on the porch?”
“Maybe.”
“Good. There are twenty pounds of blasting powder ten feet from my fireplace.”
Silence.
Even through the storm, Eleanor heard someone scramble away.
Caleb continued.
“If this cabin burns, the mountain gets five new graves.”
Crowe shouted.
“You’re bluffing!”
Caleb struck a match.
Eleanor’s heart stopped.
The tiny flame reflected in his eyes.
“Come check.”
Nobody answered.
The smoke began clearing several minutes later.
Someone had removed the obstruction from the chimney.
Caleb extinguished the match.
Eleanor stared at him.
“You are insane.”
“So I’m told.”
“You’ve said that twice.”
“People say it frequently.”
For nearly an hour, the standoff continued.
Then the horses moved.
Eleanor approached the window.
Through swirling snow, she saw shadowy riders descending the trail.
“They’re leaving.”
“No,” Caleb said.
She turned.
“They are.”
“They’re going to watch the lower pass.”
“Why?”
“Because they think your sisters escaped.”
Eleanor’s blood froze.
“They’ll find them.”
“Not in this storm.”
“How can you know?”
“Because I built the trapper’s shelter.”
He tried to stand.
His legs buckled.
Eleanor caught him.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
“Yes, I am.”
“No.”
“They’ll search at first light.”
“And you will die before sunrise if you keep bleeding.”
Caleb looked at her.
“They’re your sisters.”
“And you saved them.”
“That doesn’t make us even.”
Eleanor understood then.
Caleb was not trying to repay a debt.
He was still fighting for a wife and daughter who had died six years earlier.
Every person he saved became another argument against the guilt he had carried ever since.
She placed a hand against his cheek.
The gesture surprised both of them.
“You don’t have to die to prove you deserved to survive.”
Caleb became very still.
Eleanor’s voice softened.
“Stay alive. That’s how you help us.”
For several seconds, the only sound was the fire.
Then Caleb allowed her to lower him back onto the blankets.
At dawn, the blizzard weakened.
Eleanor checked outside.
Tracks were already disappearing beneath fresh snow.
Caleb slept fitfully from fever.
She boiled water.
Changed the dressing.
Waited.
Just after noon, three figures emerged between the pines.
Eleanor grabbed the rifle.
Then Lucy shouted from outside.
“Eleanor!”
She nearly collapsed with relief.
Rose, Kate and Lucy ran toward the cabin.
Kate had the revolver in one hand.
Rose carried a folded piece of paper.
“What happened?” Eleanor asked.
“We found someone in the trapper shelter.”
Caleb’s eyes opened.
“Who?”
Rose stepped aside.
An elderly man appeared from the trees behind them.
Thin.
White-haired.
Wrapped in a buffalo coat.
Caleb stared at him.
The old man stared back.
“Good Lord,” he whispered.
“Caleb Blackwood.”
Caleb’s expression changed.
“You.”
Eleanor looked between them.
“You know each other?”
The old man entered the cabin and placed a leather document case on the table.
“My name is Josiah Reed,” he said. “I used to keep the county records in Hollow Creek.”
His eyes moved to the four sisters.
“And unless Silas Crowe has destroyed every copy, I can prove your father never owed him six hundred dollars.”