Morning arrived with a sky the color of steel.
Neither Elias nor Clara had slept.
The documents remained spread across the kitchen table where they had studied them until nearly three in the morning.
Elias stood at the window drinking coffee.
Clara watched him.
He had barely spoken since finding his father's name.
“What happened between your father and Western Crown?” she asked.
Elias kept looking outside.
“I didn't know there was anything.”
“Daniel's records suggest otherwise.”
“My father bought this valley twenty-three years ago. At the time, nobody wanted it.”
“Why?”
“Too remote. Bad access during winter. People said the land wasn't worth much.”
“But now?”
“Railroad surveyors came through last summer.”
Clara understood.
“They want a route.”
“Maybe.”
“And your ranch controls the valley.”
“Yes.”
He turned.
“If a railroad crosses the southern slope, whoever owns this property controls the easiest pass through the mountains.”
Clara looked at the documents.
“And Western Crown knew.”
“Apparently before I did.”
She picked up one letter.
“Your father refused them.”
“He refused everyone.”
There was affection in Elias's voice.
“What was he like?”
“Stubborn.”
“So are you.”
Elias almost smiled.
“Probably why he left me the place.”
Clara grew serious.
“The note said 'remove heir if necessary.'”
“I saw it.”
“That could mean they intend to kill you.”
“Could.”
“You sound remarkably calm.”
Elias placed down his cup.
“Panic wouldn't improve the situation.”
“It might demonstrate appropriate concern.”
“I'm concerned.”
“You're standing there discussing murder as though it's tomorrow's weather.”
Elias looked at her.
“What would you like me to do?”
“I don't know.”
“Neither do I. So until we decide, I'll keep drinking coffee.”
Clara stared for a second.
Then she laughed.
It was louder than before.
Elias smiled.
The tension broke.
Only briefly.
They decided the documents needed to reach someone beyond Copper Hollow.
A federal marshal, perhaps.
Or an honest prosecutor in Denver.
The problem was deciding whom to trust.
Daniel's records suggested Western Crown had purchased influence in several counties.
“We cannot hand these papers to the wrong person,” Clara said.
“What about the sheriff?”
“Do you trust him?”
Elias thought about Sheriff Boone.
“Mostly.”
“That is not enough.”
“No.”
Clara ran her finger down one document.
“Daniel mentioned someone once. A federal investigator named Nathan Cole.”
“Where?”
“Denver, I think.”
“Can you contact him?”
“Possibly.”
“We'll telegraph.”
Clara shook her head immediately.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Silas found me here within hours. Someone is reading messages.”
Elias knew she was probably right.
“Then we send a letter.”
“Too slow.”
“I can ride to Denver.”
Clara stared.
“That's three days.”
“Two if I push.”
“And leave me here alone?”
Elias paused.
The expression on Clara's face surprised both of them.
She looked away first.
“I meant because Silas's men know I'm here.”
“Of course.”
But something warmer had entered Elias's chest.
“Then we go together.”
Clara nodded.
“When?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Why not today?”
“Because if someone's watching the ranch, leaving immediately tells them we're frightened.”
“We are frightened.”
“I know.”
“But you don't want them knowing.”
“Exactly.”
Clara studied him.
“You are better at this than a cattle rancher should be.”
“My father taught me poker.”
The rest of the day was spent preparing.
They packed food, blankets, ammunition, and the documents.
Clara insisted the wooden case remain with her.
Elias did not argue.
In the afternoon, he repaired a loose wagon board while Clara worked nearby sorting provisions.
For several hours, they lived almost like an ordinary couple.
Then Clara asked a question.
“Why seven?”
Elias stopped hammering.
“Seven what?”
“Women.”
He looked at the board.
“Oh.”
“You don't have to answer.”
“No, it's fine.”
He set down the hammer.
“The first was arranged through a church.”
“And after she left?”
“Another church.”
“Then?”
“A newspaper advertisement.”
Clara raised an eyebrow.
“That sounds romantic.”
“It wasn't.”
She smiled.
“What did the advertisement say?”
Elias looked embarrassed.
“I don't remember.”
“You absolutely remember.”
He sighed.
“Colorado rancher, financially stable, seeks respectable woman for marriage. Must tolerate winter.”
Clara laughed.
“That was it?”
“Mostly.”
“Nothing about your personality?”
“I don't think I knew I had one.”
She laughed harder.
Elias found himself watching her.
There was something beautiful about Clara when she forgot to be afraid.
Her face became younger.
Her eyes brightened.
He wanted to make that happen again.
Then she noticed him watching.
The laughter faded.
A different silence appeared.
Not uncomfortable.
Dangerous in another way.
Clara looked down.
“Margaret was the one you cared for most?”
Elias hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Did you love her?”
“I thought I might.”
“What happened?”
“She left.”
“No explanation?”
“None.”
Clara's expression softened.
“I'm sorry.”
Elias shrugged.
“I survived.”
“That isn't the same as healing.”
He looked at her.
“You say that like someone who knows.”
Clara touched the scar near her temple.
This time she noticed herself doing it.
“Daniel gave me this.”
Elias went still.
“He threw a candlestick.”
The words were spoken without drama.
That somehow made them worse.
“Because dinner was cold.”
Elias's hands slowly curled.
Clara saw.
“You asked once.”
“I remember.”
“He apologized afterward.”
Elias's jaw tightened.
“They often do.”
Clara looked surprised.
“You know?”
“My mother.”
She stared.
Elias looked toward the mountains.
“My father was a good man. But before him, she had a husband who wasn't.”
“You never told me.”
“Not much to tell.”
“There is always something to tell.”
Elias sat beside her on the wagon step.
“My mother taught me one thing before she died.”
“What?”
“That strength doesn't mean much if people are afraid to be near you.”
Clara's eyes filled.
Perhaps that explained everything.
Why Elias moved slowly.
Why he never raised his voice.
Why he had given seven frightened women space instead of demanding affection.
Why Clara had slept safely her first night despite being under the same roof as the largest man she had ever met.
“You're afraid of becoming what hurt her,” Clara said.
“Yes.”
“You aren't.”
“You've known me two days.”
“Sometimes two days is enough to know what a man isn't.”
It was nearly the same thing she had told him in town.
Elias smiled.
Clara did too.
Then a rifle cracked.
The wagon beside them exploded in splinters.
Elias moved instantly.
He grabbed Clara around the waist and dragged her behind the stone watering trough.
A second shot hit the barn door.
“Horses!” Elias shouted.
The animals panicked.
Clara crouched beside him.
“Where?”
“North ridge.”
Another shot.
Elias looked toward the house.
Their rifle was inside.
Clara reached beneath her skirt and pulled the small revolver from her boot.
Elias stared.
“You carried that all day?”
“Yes.”
“I suddenly feel underprepared.”
Despite terror, Clara nearly laughed.
A rider appeared on the ridge.
Then another.
Two men.
One shouted.
“Vance wants the box!”
Elias rose slightly.
Clara grabbed his coat.
“Don't.”
“They're too far for that pistol.”
“And you're too large to hide behind anything!”
The observation was accurate.
Elias ducked again.
The riders began descending.
“We need the house,” he said.
They ran.
Elias kept himself between Clara and the ridge.
Another shot struck dirt near his boot.
They reached the porch.
Inside, Elias retrieved the rifle.
The riders did not approach further.
Instead one shouted.
“Tomorrow morning, Thorne!”
Elias stepped into the doorway.
“What happens tomorrow?”
“We burn the ranch.”
Then they rode away.
Clara stood behind Elias, trembling.
“This is my fault.”
“No.”
“They came because of me.”
“They were coming for the ranch anyway.”
“You don't know that.”
“I saw my name in the papers.”
“But I brought the papers.”
Elias turned.
“Clara.”
“No. Seven women left you and you finally tried again, and instead of a wife you got someone with criminals chasing her.”
Elias leaned the rifle against the wall.
“I got Clara.”
She stopped.
He stepped closer.
“I haven't decided whether that's good or bad yet.”
She stared at him.
Then she realized he was teasing.
A small laugh escaped.
But tears followed.
“I am so tired of being afraid.”
Elias said nothing.
“Daniel frightened me for twelve years. After he died, Silas frightened me for two more. Every hotel, every train, every stranger behind me…”
Her voice broke.
“I came here because when the matchmaker described you, I thought a man your size might be the one person Silas couldn't frighten.”
Elias's expression softened.
“So yes,” Clara whispered. “I chose you because you were enormous.”
She looked ashamed.
“I'm sorry.”
Elias considered her words.
Then he held out his hand.
Clara looked at it.
“What?”
“You're trembling.”
Slowly she placed her hand in his.
His palm swallowed hers.
Warm.
Steady.
“I don't mind why you came,” he said.
“You should.”
“Maybe.”
“Elias—”
“But I'd like you to stay someday because of who I am.”
Clara's eyes filled again.
“That seems fair.”
He released her hand.
Neither moved.
For a moment something passed between them.
Then Elias cleared his throat.
“We need to prepare for tomorrow.”
They worked until dark.
Elias moved horses into the lower pasture.
Clara packed documents and food.
They filled buckets beside the house in case the attackers truly intended fire.
After sunset they ate quietly.
At ten, Elias checked every window.
At eleven, Clara went upstairs.
At midnight, she was still awake.
She heard Elias pacing downstairs.
She opened her door.
“Elias?”
“Yes?”
“Come upstairs.”
Silence.
Then, “Why?”
Clara almost smiled.
“Because you've slept on that miserable sofa for two nights.”
“I've slept in worse places.”
“There is another bedroom.”
“I said I'd stay between you and the door.”
“And I said come upstairs.”
Slow footsteps climbed.
Elias stopped at the top.
Clara stood outside her room.
The hallway lamp cast soft gold across his face.
“I don't want you thinking—”
“I don't.”
“I wasn't asking—”
“I know.”
She opened the room across from hers.
“You can sleep here.”
Elias looked inside.
Then at her.
“All right.”
Clara turned toward her room.
“Good night.”
“Clara.”
She stopped.
“If they come tomorrow, stay behind me.”
She looked back.
“No.”
His eyebrow lifted.
“No?”
“If they come tomorrow, we stand beside each other.”
Elias stared.
For years women had stepped away from him.
Moved behind doors.
Entered wagons.
Fled down roads.
Clara Vance was the first who had looked at danger and chosen a place at his side.
“All right,” he said quietly.
“Beside me.”
Before dawn, horses thundered somewhere beyond the north pasture.
Elias opened his eyes.
So did Clara.
A moment later came the smell of smoke.