The gunshot echoed between the mountains.
For one terrible heartbeat, nobody moved.
Eleanor saw Caleb jerk sideways.
Her mind refused to understand what her eyes had witnessed.
Then blood appeared along his coat sleeve.
"Caleb!"
He hit the porch railing with one shoulder but remained standing.
The gunman's revolver swung toward Eleanor.
Caleb drew faster.
His weapon came from the holster almost too quickly to see.
He fired once.
The gunman's pistol flew from his hand as the bullet tore through the wooden fence post beside him.
"Next one won't miss," Caleb said.
His voice was frighteningly calm.
Every rider on the ridge drew a weapon.
Silas Crowe looked around.
A dozen barrels were now pointed toward his men.
Caleb's neighbors had not come to start a war.
But neither were they willing to watch Crowe drag a pregnant woman away from a ranch at gunpoint.
The blacksmith, Abram Cole, rode forward.
"That's enough, Crowe."
"You people have lost your minds."
"Maybe."
Abram rested one hand on the saddle horn.
"Or maybe we finally found them."
Crowe turned toward Sheriff Amos Bell, who had arrived with the group.
The sheriff looked uncomfortable.
For years, people had suspected Bell of avoiding trouble whenever Crowe was involved.
Now there were too many witnesses for avoidance.
"Rourke shot my man," Crowe snapped.
"After your man fired first," Bell replied.
Several ranchers nodded.
Crowe pointed at Eleanor.
"That woman stole documents from my private office."
Eleanor stepped down from the porch.
"I took evidence of a crime."
"You admit theft."
"I admit surviving you."
The words changed something among the riders.
Caleb glanced at her.
Not proud exactly.
But close.
Crowe dismounted.
"Show Sheriff Bell the letter."
Eleanor hesitated.
Caleb spoke quietly.
"Your choice."
She looked at the sheriff.
"No."
Bell frowned.
"Miss Hayes—"
"I'll show it to Judge Nathaniel Ward in Silverton."
Crowe laughed.
"You think you'll reach Silverton?"
The laughter was a mistake.
Too confident.
Too revealing.
Sheriff Bell noticed.
"So you're threatening her in front of me now?" he asked.
Crowe's smile disappeared.
"I'm stating roads are dangerous."
"So are witnesses."
The sheriff straightened.
"You'll leave Rourke's land."
Crowe stared at him.
"Careful, Amos."
The sheriff went pale.
For a moment, Eleanor thought he might surrender as he had apparently done many times before.
Then Abram Cole rode closer to him.
The ranchers closed ranks.
Sheriff Bell swallowed.
"You heard me."
Crowe slowly returned to his horse.
Before mounting, he looked at Eleanor.
"This isn't finished."
"No," she answered. "It isn't."
His gaze shifted to Caleb.
"You always were too stupid to know when you're beaten."
Caleb looked at his bleeding arm.
"Funny place to say that."
Crowe rode away.
His men followed.
Only when they disappeared beyond the lower ridge did Caleb's knees bend.
Eleanor caught his coat.
"Sit down."
"It's nothing."
"You're bleeding."
"I've done that before."
"Then you should be better at avoiding it."
Abram barked a laugh.
Caleb looked at Eleanor.
For the first time, she saw the smallest hint of amusement beneath the pain.
"Yes, ma'am."
Dr. Mercer was summoned again.
The bullet had cut through the flesh of Caleb's upper arm without striking bone.
"You were lucky," Mercer said.
"Apparently."
"You need stitches."
"Apparently."
"And you need someone to make certain you don't use the arm."
Caleb looked toward Eleanor.
"No."
She folded her arms.
"Yes."
The doctor smiled.
"I'll leave you two to negotiate."
While Mercer cleaned the wound, Sheriff Bell stood near the fireplace.
"We have a problem."
Caleb grunted.
"We have several."
"Crowe's document claiming this ranch may be fraudulent, but Judge Shaw signed it."
Eleanor looked up.
"The same judge named in the letter."
"Exactly."
Bell lowered his voice.
"Which means local law won't protect either of you for long."
"Then we leave for Silverton as soon as possible," Eleanor said.
Caleb shook his head.
"Not yet."
"I can't hide here."
"You're not hiding."
"He'll come back."
"Yes."
"Then why wait?"
Caleb nodded toward her stomach.
"Because Dr. Mercer said five days before traveling."
"My fever broke."
"Your fever broke twelve hours ago."
Eleanor stared at him.
Sheriff Bell wisely stepped away.
"You were shot because of me."
Caleb's expression changed.
"No."
"If I hadn't come here—"
"No."
His voice was harder this time.
"A man pulled a gun because Crowe told him intimidation would work. That's on them."
Eleanor looked down.
Caleb leaned closer.
"Don't carry other men's choices."
Something in the words suggested he had done exactly that for years.
Five days became four after Eleanor argued relentlessly.
On the evening before their departure, Abram Cole and three ranchers arrived with supplies.
They had also brought information.
"Crowe sent riders north," Abram said. "Main road to Silverton is watched."
Caleb spread a rough map on the table.
"We'll take Dead Pine Pass."
Abram stared at him.
"In March?"
"Snow's melting."
"Which makes avalanches worse."
"Still safer than Crowe."
Eleanor studied the map.
"How long?"
"Three days if weather holds."
"Four with me."
Caleb glanced at her.
"Four."
She appreciated that he did not pretend pregnancy made no difference.
He simply adjusted the plan.
That night, Eleanor could not sleep.
She sat before the dying fire.
Caleb emerged from his room shortly after midnight.
"Nightmare?" she asked.
"No."
"Then why are you awake?"
"You are."
He added wood to the stove.
Eleanor watched his injured arm.
"Does it hurt?"
"Yes."
"You never say that."
"You asked."
She smiled faintly.
Caleb sat opposite her.
"You're afraid."
"Yes."
"Good."
Eleanor raised an eyebrow.
"Good?"
"Fear keeps fools alive."
"And courage?"
"Usually gets fools killed."
She laughed softly.
Caleb's mouth almost smiled.
Then Eleanor became serious.
"What happens if Crowe wins?"
"He won't."
"What happens if he does?"
Caleb considered the question.
"We try again."
"And if Judge Ward refuses to help?"
"We find someone else."
"And if nobody believes me?"
"I do."
Three words.
That was all.
Eleanor looked toward the fire because suddenly looking at Caleb was difficult.
The next morning they left before sunrise.
Caleb rode his black gelding, Atlas.
Eleanor rode a smaller bay mare named Willow.
Abram accompanied them for the first six miles.
At the entrance to Dead Pine Pass, he stopped.
"Once you cross this ridge, nobody from Ashford can reach you quickly."
Caleb nodded.
"We know."
Abram handed Eleanor a small revolver.
She stared at it.
"I don't know how to use this."
Caleb took it.
"Then carrying it is more dangerous than leaving it."
Abram frowned.
"You think Crowe's men care?"
"No."
Caleb checked the weapon.
"Which is why she'll learn."
For the next hour, he taught Eleanor how to hold it safely.
How to load.
How to aim.
How to keep her finger away from the trigger until she intended to fire.
He never placed his hands over hers without asking.
"May I?"
The question surprised her every time.
"Yes."
By afternoon they entered the pass.
Blackstone Mountains rose around them like walls.
Snowmelt poured along rocky slopes.
Eleanor watched Caleb constantly.
He knew where ice would break.
Where horses could cross safely.
Which clouds meant another storm.
This was a different Caleb than the quiet man at the ranch.
Here, he seemed to belong completely to the land.
Near sunset they discovered tracks.
Four horses.
Fresh.
Caleb dismounted.
"Crowe?"
"Probably."
"How far?"
"Less than an hour."
Eleanor's pulse quickened.
"Do we turn back?"
Caleb looked ahead.
"No."
They left the trail.
He led them into a narrow stand of pine trees.
For two hours they traveled through terrain Eleanor would never have attempted alone.
Darkness fell.
Caleb finally stopped near an abandoned trapping cabin.
"No fire."
"It's freezing."
"Smoke carries."
They ate dried meat and bread beneath blankets.
Sometime after midnight, hoofbeats sounded outside.
Eleanor's eyes opened.
Caleb was already awake.
He moved silently toward the window.
Four riders stopped near the cabin.
Voices.
"Tracks disappear around here."
"Rourke knows these mountains."
"Crowe wants the woman alive."
"And Rourke?"
A pause.
"Crowe didn't say."
Eleanor's stomach tightened.
Caleb looked at her.
He pointed toward a rear opening.
She shook her head.
He mouthed one word.
Go.
Eleanor mouthed back.
Together.
Caleb's jaw tightened.
Then one of the men outside said something that changed everything.
"Once we find the letter, burn it."
Another laughed.
"What about Shaw's ledger?"
"Crowe already moved it from the courthouse."
Caleb's eyes sharpened.
Eleanor leaned closer to the wall.
"Where?"
"Old mining office outside Ashford."
"Why there?"
"Because nobody looks inside a building condemned ten years ago."
Eleanor looked at Caleb.
A ledger.
More evidence.
Perhaps enough to destroy Crowe completely.
A floorboard creaked beneath her boot.
Silence fell outside.
Then a voice came through the darkness.
"Someone's in there."
Caleb raised his rifle.
The cabin door handle slowly turned.
And Eleanor realized their journey to Silverton might end before the first night was over.