The barn was burning.
By the time Elias reached the porch, orange flame had already climbed one side of the roof.
“Get the horses!” Clara shouted.
“They're in the lower pasture.”
Elias grabbed two buckets.
Clara took another.
They ran toward the well.
Smoke rolled across the yard.
A flaming arrow struck the grass.
Then another.
Elias looked toward the ridge.
Three riders.
“Inside!” he shouted.
Clara ignored him.
She threw water against the barn wall.
“Clara!”
“If that fire reaches the hayloft, we lose everything!”
Another arrow landed.
Elias swore.
He could not fight fire and protect Clara at the same time.
Then a rifle fired from behind the riders.
One attacker nearly fell from his saddle.
A voice echoed across the valley.
“Thought you might need neighbors, Thorne!”
Elias stared.
Six men appeared from the southern trail.
Then four more.
Copper Hollow ranchers.
At the front rode Sheriff Boone.
“Get off my mountain!” Boone shouted toward the attackers.
The three riders turned and fled.
Clara looked at Elias.
“You told anyone?”
“No.”
Within minutes, a dozen townspeople were carrying buckets.
The barn roof collapsed, but they saved the house and half the structure.
By sunrise, the fire was mostly out.
Elias stood blackened with soot beside the well.
Sheriff Boone approached.
“Figured those strangers yesterday weren't here for the scenery.”
“How'd you know?”
“Telegram boy mentioned a man asking questions about your place.”
Elias looked toward the neighbors.
“Why did they come?”
Boone shrugged.
“You've helped every one of them at some point.”
Elias seemed genuinely confused.
“That doesn't mean they owe me.”
“No.”
Boone looked toward Clara, who was handing coffee to exhausted men.
“Maybe they're here because they finally decided you're not the Devil.”
Elias snorted.
“Only took four years.”
Clara heard.
She walked over.
“Sheriff, we need to speak privately.”
Inside, they showed Boone several documents.
He became pale.
“This is bigger than Copper Hollow.”
“We know,” Clara said.
“Western Crown?”
“Yes.”
Boone read another page.
“My deputy's name is here.”
Silence.
“Which deputy?” Elias asked.
“Peter Crowley.”
Clara looked at him.
“Can he be trusted?”
Boone's expression hardened.
“Apparently not.”
The plan to ride openly toward Denver was abandoned.
Instead, Boone suggested they travel north first, then cut east through a logging route rarely used in autumn.
“I'll tell everyone you're staying here,” he said.
Elias nodded.
Clara said, “What happens when your deputy discovers we're gone?”
“Hopefully you have a day's lead.”
They left before noon.
Clara rode a mare while Elias rode beside her.
The wooden case was wrapped inside a blanket and tied beneath Clara's saddle.
Neither spoke much.
By evening they reached an abandoned hunting cabin.
Elias checked it.
Safe.
Clara started a small fire.
They ate bread and smoked meat.
Rain began again.
In the cramped cabin, Elias seemed even larger.
Clara sat across from him.
“Can I ask something personal?”
“That usually means I'm about to regret saying yes.”
“Why didn't you ever go after Margaret?”
He looked at the fire.
“I thought about it.”
“But?”
“She left voluntarily.”
“You loved her.”
“I cared about her.”
“Wouldn't you want an explanation?”
“Yes.”
“Then why not find her?”
Elias was quiet for a long time.
“Because someone leaving is an answer.”
Clara absorbed that.
“I spent twelve years begging someone to treat me kindly. Afterward, I promised myself I'd never make another person beg me to stay.”
She looked at him differently.
“You really would let me leave.”
“If you want to.”
“Even now?”
“After Denver, yes.”
A strange ache entered her.
He meant it.
That was what made staying suddenly feel possible.
“What if I don't want to?”
Elias's gaze lifted.
The fire cracked.
Clara's heart beat faster.
“I didn't say I don't,” she added quickly.
“No.”
“But…”
She looked down.
“I don't know yet.”
Elias nodded.
“You don't have to.”
The answer irritated her unexpectedly.
“You could at least look hopeful.”
He smiled.
“I am trying not to frighten you.”
“You don't frighten me.”
“I've noticed.”
Their eyes met.
Clara smiled.
Elias did too.
Then they heard a horse outside.
Both froze.
Elias extinguished the lantern.
The horse stopped.
Footsteps approached.
Elias positioned himself beside the door with his rifle.
Clara drew her revolver.
Someone knocked.
Three times.
Pause.
Twice.
Elias looked at Clara.
Their signal.
He opened cautiously.
Sheriff Boone entered.
Blood covered his sleeve.
“Sheriff!”
“It's not bad.”
Elias helped him sit.
“What happened?”
“Crowley happened.”
The deputy had discovered their departure.
Boone had confronted him.
Crowley drew first.
Boone survived.
Crowley escaped.
“He knows where you're going,” Boone said.
“How?”
“He found a Denver address in my desk.”
Clara's stomach dropped.
“Nathan Cole?”
Boone nodded.
“They'll reach Denver ahead of you.”
Elias looked at Clara.
“We need another plan.”
Boone reached inside his coat.
“I have one.”
He handed Elias a sealed letter.
“My brother is a judge in Pueblo.”
Clara stiffened.
“Daniel's papers say judges were bought.”
“Not my brother.”
“You're certain?”
“With my life.”
“That may be exactly what you're risking.”
Boone looked at her.
“Mrs. Vance, men like Silas survive because decent people become afraid of risking anything.”
Clara said nothing.
Boone continued.
“My brother can get these documents directly to federal authorities.”
“Then Pueblo,” Elias said.
They changed direction before dawn.
For two days they traveled across mountain trails.
During those days Clara learned things about Elias.
He hummed while saddling horses.
He hated canned peaches.
He talked to his mare as if she understood every word.
He could identify birds from their calls.
He always gave Clara the warmer blanket.
She also learned that being protected by a man was entirely different from being controlled by one.
Daniel had protected possessions.
Elias protected choices.
When Clara wanted to stop, he stopped.
When she wanted to ride, they rode.
When she asked questions, he answered.
When she wanted silence, he allowed it.
On the second evening they camped beneath a rock overhang.
Snow began falling.
Clara sat wrapped in a blanket.
Elias handed her coffee.
“My hands are freezing.”
He held his palms toward her.
“Use these.”
She stared.
“You're serious?”
“Yes.”
Slowly Clara placed her hands inside his.
His huge fingers closed gently around them.
Warmth seeped into her skin.
Neither spoke.
Snow drifted beyond the fire.
Clara watched their hands.
Those hands had frightened seven women.
Now they were the safest place she had known in years.
She whispered, “I think I'm beginning to understand Margaret.”
Elias stiffened.
“How?”
“She became frightened because she had something worth losing.”
He looked at her.
Clara immediately regretted the words.
“Forget I said that.”
“I don't want to.”
Her pulse quickened.
Elias did not move closer.
That was somehow worse.
“I can't promise anything yet,” Clara whispered.
“I haven't asked.”
“But you're thinking it.”
“Yes.”
She smiled faintly.
“At least you're honest.”
“Usually.”
“What are you dishonest about?”
“Your cooking.”
Clara gasped.
“My cooking?”
“Those biscuits yesterday could shoe a horse.”
She laughed so loudly the sound echoed through the trees.
Elias laughed too.
For a few precious minutes, Silas Vance did not exist.
Neither did Western Crown.
Neither did Daniel.
There was only snow, firelight, and two lonely people discovering how easy laughter could be.
The moment ended when a gunshot shattered Elias's coffee cup.
He pushed Clara down.
Men emerged from the trees.
Five.
Silas had found them.
The fight was short and chaotic.
Elias fired from behind a boulder.
Clara crawled toward the horses.
One man circled behind them.
He grabbed Clara's coat.
She turned and struck him with the wooden case.
The brass corner caught his jaw.
He fell.
Another man aimed at Elias.
Clara fired.
The shot struck the tree beside him, forcing him back.
Then a voice rang out.
“Enough!”
The shooting stopped.
A tall man stepped into the firelight.
Silver hair.
Black gloves.
Expensive coat.
Clara went completely still.
Elias knew without asking.
Silas Vance.
He smiled.
“Clara.”
She raised the revolver.
“Stay away.”
Silas looked at Elias.
“So this is the giant.”
Elias stood.
“Leave.”
Silas laughed.
“You don't even know what she's brought you into.”
“I know enough.”
“Do you?”
Silas's smile turned colder.
“Ask her why Daniel really died.”
Clara's face changed.
Elias saw it.
Silas saw that he saw it.
“Oh,” Silas murmured. “She hasn't told you.”
“Don't listen to him,” Clara whispered.
Silas took one step forward.
“Your bride didn't simply inherit those documents, Thorne.”
He looked at Clara.
“She stole them the night her husband died.”
Elias's eyes moved toward her.
Silas smiled.
“And Daniel's death?”
He paused.
“Clara was the last person in the room.”