Silas Mercer remained in the cabin until morning.
Josephine did not sleep.
Neither did Elias.
Mercer sat near the stove under a blanket while Elias kept the rifle across his lap.
The storm eased shortly before dawn.
By sunrise, the world outside had become a smooth white wilderness.
Josephine prepared coffee.
Mercer accepted a cup.
“Thank you.”
She looked at him.
“I am giving you coffee because freezing a man in our kitchen would be inconvenient.”
Mercer blinked.
Elias covered a smile.
Josephine sat.
“Now explain exactly what Nathaniel Crowe intends to do.”
Mercer glanced at Elias.
Elias nodded once.
Mercer rubbed his hands.
“Crowe’s been buying land since spring.”
“We know that,” Elias said.
“He knew about the railroad before anyone else. His cousin works in Denver.”
Josephine leaned forward.
“What does Elias’s deed have to do with it?”
“Crowe can’t force him to sell.”
“So?”
“So he creates a dispute.”
Mercer looked uncomfortable.
“He files a competing deed. Claims Row’s papers were improperly registered after the territorial survey.”
Elias frowned.
“My deed was filed eighteen years ago.”
“I know.”
“County clerk has a copy.”
“Had.”
Silence.
Elias stared.
“What did Crowe do?”
Mercer looked at the floor.
“Clerk’s office had a fire last month.”
Josephine’s skin prickled.
“I read about that in Oak Haven.”
“Wasn’t an accident.”
Elias slowly stood, despite the ankle.
Josephine reached toward him.
“Sit down.”
“Crowe burned county records?”
“Not all of them,” Mercer said. “Only a cabinet in the back room.”
“The land filings.”
Mercer nodded.
Elias cursed.
Josephine thought quickly.
“Then the original deed matters.”
“Yes.”
“Where is it?”
Elias looked at her.
“Safe.”
Mercer gave a humorless laugh.
“That’s why Crowe sent men up here.”
Elias’s expression turned cold.
“You were one of them.”
Mercer met his eyes.
“Yes.”
Josephine gripped the coffee cup.
“Were you the one who fired?”
“No.”
“Who was?”
“Tom Rusk.”
“Where is he?”
“Probably Crowe’s ranch.”
Elias said, “Why are you telling us this?”
For the first time, Mercer looked genuinely ashamed.
“Because last night Crowe told Rusk that once you were dead, your wife wouldn’t be a problem.”
Josephine went still.
Elias’s hand tightened around the rifle.
Mercer continued quickly.
“He said a woman from Chicago wouldn’t last three days alone up here.”
Elias took one step toward him.
Josephine stopped him.
“Elias.”
“He threatened you.”
“And beating Mercer won’t change that.”
Mercer swallowed.
“I’m done working for Crowe.”
“Convenient,” Elias said.
“I know.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“Because I can testify.”
Josephine studied him.
“That would make you an enemy of Crowe.”
“I already am if he finds out I came here.”
“Then perhaps,” Josephine said, “you should make certain he does not find out until we are standing in front of a judge.”
Elias looked at her.
Mercer looked at her.
Josephine set down her cup.
“What?”
Elias shook his head.
“Nothing.”
“That expression means something.”
“I was thinking.”
“Dangerous habit.”
He almost smiled.
Then his eyes softened.
“I was thinking Crowe badly underestimated my wife.”
---
The original deed was hidden beneath the floorboards.
Elias showed Josephine after Mercer left.
She stared.
“You kept the most important document you own under the bed?”
“Nobody looks under the bed.”
“I looked under the bed on my first day.”
“Exactly. Nobody except you.”
She rolled her eyes.
The deed was wrapped in oilcloth and stored inside a metal box.
Also inside were tax receipts.
Survey maps.
His father’s purchase agreement.
A letter from the original land office.
Josephine examined every sheet.
Her upbringing had not prepared her to split wood.
It had prepared her for paperwork.
Josephine’s father had owned warehouses and rental buildings in Chicago.
She had spent years watching contracts cross his desk.
“These are excellent.”
Elias frowned.
“They’re papers.”
“They are proof.”
“They may not matter if Crowe owns the judge.”
“Does he?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then we find a judge he doesn’t own.”
Elias looked at her.
“You make it sound easy.”
“No. I make it sound necessary.”
She repacked the documents.
“We take these to Oak Haven.”
“Trail’s buried.”
“When can we go?”
“Three days. Maybe four.”
“Then we wait four.”
Elias hated waiting.
Josephine could tell.
But his ankle needed rest.
For once, the mountain forced him to obey.
During those days, something between them changed.
Danger stripped away their remaining caution.
At night they shared the bed without pretending cold was the only reason.
Elias woke sometimes and simply watched Josephine breathe.
On the third night, she opened her eyes.
“Are you staring at me?”
“Yes.”
“That is unsettling.”
“Sorry.”
“You do it often?”
“Lately.”
“Why?”
He hesitated.
Josephine propped herself on one elbow.
“Elias?”
“I nearly died.”
Her teasing disappeared.
He touched her cheek.
“You came out after me.”
“Of course I did.”
“No.”
His voice roughened.
“You don’t understand.”
Josephine became still.
“Nobody’s ever done anything like that for me.”
She covered his hand.
“You are my husband.”
“Technically?”
A smile touched her mouth.
“Not technically.”
Elias looked into her eyes.
“I love you.”
Josephine stopped breathing.
He had not meant to say it yet.
Maybe not that way.
But there it was.
Simple.
Unprotected.
True.
Her eyes filled.
Elias immediately looked worried.
“That bad?”
Josephine laughed.
Then hit his shoulder.
“You waited until I was lying down?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“I imagined this differently.”
“You imagined it?”
“No.”
“You did.”
“I dislike you.”
“Not what you said.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“That’s true.”
Josephine kissed him.
Then whispered against his mouth.
“I love you too.”
Outside, snow slid from the roof.
Inside, Elias Row discovered there were moments that could divide a life into before and after.
This was one.
---
Four days later, they began the descent toward Oak Haven.
Elias’s ankle still hurt, but he could ride.
Josephine sat beside him in the wagon.
The deed box rested beneath her feet.
A rifle lay beside Elias.
Josephine carried the revolver.
The mountain remained silent.
Too silent.
Halfway down the ridge, Elias stopped the wagon.
“What?”
He listened.
Josephine heard it seconds later.
Horses.
Behind them.
“Crowe?”
“Maybe.”
Elias slapped the reins.
The wagon moved faster.
The trail narrowed.
Josephine looked back.
Three riders appeared between the trees.
One was Tom Rusk.
Elias recognized him.
“Hold on.”
The wagon bounced violently.
Josephine gripped the seat.
A shot cracked.
Wood exploded from the wagon rail.
Josephine ducked.
“They’re shooting!”
“I noticed!”
“Do something!”
“I’m driving!”
Another shot.
Elias handed her the rifle.
Josephine stared.
“I shoot cans!”
“Today they’re big cans!”
“That is terrible instruction!”
“They’re trying to kill us!”
“Fine!”
Josephine turned.
She did not aim at the men.
She aimed at the trail ahead of them.
A dead pine leaned precariously beside the slope.
She fired.
Missed.
Fired again.
Wood splintered.
Nothing.
“Damn it!”
“Again!”
Josephine breathed.
Slow.
Like Elias had taught her.
Third shot.
The weakened trunk cracked.
The tree fell across the trail.
The riders pulled hard on their reins.
One horse reared.
The delay gave Elias and Josephine another hundred yards.
He looked at her.
“You did that on purpose?”
“Yes.”
“Remind me never to make you angry.”
“You already make me angry regularly.”
“Good point.”
They reached Oak Haven two hours later.
---
The sheriff listened.
So did the county attorney.
Mercer arrived separately before sundown.
He testified.
The original deed was examined.
Copies were made.
Statements were taken.
But Nathaniel Crowe was not arrested.
Not yet.
Crowe had money.
Lawyers.
Friends.
He claimed Mercer was a disgruntled employee.
Claimed Rusk had been hunting deer.
Claimed Elias’s accusations were an attempt to increase the sale price of the ridge.
By evening, rumors had spread across Oak Haven.
Josephine heard them in the hotel dining room.
“Crowe says Row married that rich Chicago woman because he’s broke.”
“She’s certainly hard to miss.”
“Maybe she bought him.”
Josephine continued eating.
Elias’s face darkened.
She touched his arm.
“Don’t.”
“They’re talking about you.”
“They have been talking about me since I was twelve.”
“That doesn’t make it right.”
“No.”
She looked at him calmly.
“But I crossed twelve hundred miles to stop letting strangers decide how I felt about myself.”
Elias said nothing.
Josephine smiled.
“You should try it.”
The following morning, Crowe approached them outside the courthouse.
Nathaniel Crowe was nearly sixty, silver-haired, clean-shaven, and dressed better than most bankers.
He tipped his hat.
“Mrs. Row.”
Josephine stared at him.
“You know my name.”
“Everyone knows your name now.”
Elias stepped between them.
Crowe smiled.
“No need for hostility.”
“You shot at us.”
“I did no such thing.”
“Your men did.”
“Former employees, according to Mercer.”
Crowe looked at Josephine again.
“You’re an intelligent woman.”
“So I have been told.”
“This mountain dispute isn’t your fight.”
Josephine’s eyes hardened.
“You tried to steal my home.”
Crowe’s smile weakened.
“I would advise you to return to Chicago before winter gets worse.”
“I spent twenty-eight years there.”
“And?”
“I prefer Wyoming.”
Crowe’s expression became colder.
“You may change your mind.”
Josephine stepped closer.
“No, Mr. Crowe.”
Her voice remained quiet.
“You are going to change yours.”
For the first time, Crowe stopped smiling.
---