Samuel tried to stand when he heard that.
He made it halfway upright before his injured leg buckled beneath him.
Hayes caught him.
“Sit down.”
“That’s my saddle.”
“I know.”
“My horse was dead.”
“I know that too.”
“Then somebody found him.”
Hayes lowered Samuel onto the bed.
Outside, the distant voices grew louder.
I pulled Hayden against me.
“Who would take a saddle off a dead horse?”
Hayes looked at Samuel.
“Depends what else was attached to it.”
Samuel’s face changed.
That was the first time I knew there was something my husband had not told me.
“Samuel?”
He stared toward the door.
“Nothing.”
“Do not say nothing with armed men outside.”
His jaw tightened.
Hayes looked from him to me.
“What were you carrying?”
Samuel hesitated.
“Money.”
My stomach dropped.
“How much?”
“Cora—”
“How much?”
“Eight hundred dollars.”
I stared at him.
Eight hundred dollars was nearly everything we owned.
Money meant to purchase cattle in spring.
Money Samuel had told me was hidden safely beneath a floorboard at our cabin.
“You took it with you?”
“I didn’t want to leave it in an abandoned shack while you were alone.”
“So you put our life savings on a horse and rode into a blizzard?”
“I intended to reach town.”
Hayes muttered something under his breath.
Samuel glared.
“You have something to say?”
“Plenty. Not now.”
One of the horses outside whinnied.
Closer.
Hayes moved to the window.
“Three men.”
“You recognize them?” Samuel whispered.
“No.”
“Could they just be travelers?”
Hayes looked at him.
“Travelers who stripped your saddle, found eight hundred dollars, followed my sled trail seven miles, and arrived after dark?”
Samuel said nothing.
“Exactly.”
Hayes handed him a revolver.
Samuel looked at it.
“I can barely sit up.”
“You only need to look like you can shoot.”
“Can I?”
“No idea.”
Despite everything, I wanted to laugh.
Then somebody knocked.
Three firm blows.
“Hello in there!”
Hayes did not answer.
“We saw smoke!”
Still nothing.
“We’re travelers!”
Hayes glanced at us.
His expression said exactly what he thought of that.
The man outside continued.
“Storm took our camp. We’re looking for shelter.”
Samuel whispered, “Maybe—”
Hayes silenced him with one look.
Then he called through the door.
“Shelter’s full.”
A pause.
“We’ve got an injured man.”
“So do we.”
Another pause.
Different voice this time.
“We found a dead horse back on the western slope. Belong to anybody here?”
Samuel’s fingers tightened around the revolver.
Hayes answered.
“Lots of dead horses in winter.”
“Had Ohio tack.”
I looked at Samuel.
His saddle had been made in Marietta.
The man laughed softly outside.
“Funny thing is, we followed tracks from that horse. Led us right here.”
Hayes raised his rifle.
“So you already knew somebody was inside.”
Silence.
Then—
“Yes.”
The friendliness vanished.
“We also found something in that saddlebag.”
Samuel’s face went pale.
Hayes said nothing.
“Money.”
The man let the word sit there.
“We figured whoever owned it might want the rest.”
Samuel whispered, “Rest?”
The man outside must have heard movement.
“You Samuel Mercer?”
No one answered.
“I’m guessing you are.”
Hayes stepped closer to the door.
“What do you want?”
“Conversation.”
“You’re having one.”
A low chuckle.
“I like you.”
“Most people don’t.”
“We found eight hundred dollars. That much money makes a man curious. Makes him wonder where a half-dead Ohio farmer got it.”
Samuel looked offended even while barely able to move.
Hayes replied, “Selling potatoes, probably.”
I almost smiled.
The stranger did not.
“Open the door.”
“No.”
“Three of us.”
“One of me.”
“You sound confident.”
“I sound warm.”
The silence that followed lasted long enough for me to hear Hayden breathing.
Then footsteps moved away.
I exhaled.
“Are they leaving?”
“No,” Hayes said.
“How do you know?”
“Men like that don’t ride seven miles to ask politely.”
Sure enough, a minute later a voice called from farther away.
“We’ll wait until morning!”
Hayes lowered the rifle.
Samuel stared at him.
“What now?”
“Now they try to outwait us.”
“Can they?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because we leave first.”
I thought I had misheard.
“Leave?”
“Back door.”
“There is no back door.”
“There will be.”
Hayes pointed toward a section of wall behind stacked firewood.
His cabin was built against a shallow stone shelf. Behind the logs was a narrow storage hatch I had not noticed.
“Old trapper’s escape.”
Samuel looked skeptical.
“Escape from what?”
“Other trappers.”
That seemed sufficient explanation.
Hayes began moving fast.
Blankets.
Food.
A kettle.
Rope.
He wrapped Samuel’s injured leg tightly and helped him into layers of clothing.
I dressed as much as I could.
Every movement hurt.
The bleeding had slowed to spotting, but I remained weak.
Hayes tied Hayden against my chest beneath his own oversized coat.
“You stay between us.”
“I can walk.”
“I know.”
“You keep saying things as though you expect me to argue.”
“I do.”
Samuel leaned against the wall.
“When?”
“Soon.”
Hayes pushed aside the woodpile.
Behind it was a square opening barely large enough for a man.
Freezing air poured inside.
“The sled?”
“Other side.”
“You planned this?”
“I live alone in mountains.”
Samuel frowned.
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It’s the only one you get.”
Hayes crawled through first.
Then he pulled Samuel out.
I followed slowly.
The world outside was silver and black.
Moonlight gave us enough visibility to see the trees.
Hayes had already packed Samuel onto the drag sled.
“You walk beside me,” he told me.
“Where are we going?”
“Downhill.”
“To town?”
“Eventually.”
“What happens when they find the cabin empty?”
“They follow.”
“And?”
“They follow the wrong trail.”
He pointed toward tracks leading east.
“You made those earlier?”
“Yes.”
Samuel stared at him.
“When?”
“While you slept.”
“You knew they might come?”
“No. I know people sometimes do.”
There was something in that answer too.
Something about Hayes’s past.
No time to ask.
We moved west.
Hayes dragged Samuel.
I carried Hayden.
Snow reached my knees in places.
The cold hurt my lungs.
Every fifty yards Hayes stopped to make sure I remained upright.
Behind us, the cabin disappeared among trees.
For perhaps an hour nothing happened.
Then a gunshot cracked across the valley.
I flinched.
Hayden woke and began crying.
Hayes swore.
“They found out.”
Another shot.
Samuel twisted around on the sled.
“They can’t see us.”
“They don’t need to. They’re telling us they’re coming.”
Hayes increased his pace.
I tried to follow.
My body refused.
My legs shook.
“Hayes.”
He turned.
“I need a minute.”
“We don’t have—”
He saw my face.
Immediately he stopped.
Samuel looked terrified.
“Cora?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re white.”
“Snow makes everyone look white.”
“Cora.”
Hayes knelt.
He touched my wrist.
Then checked beneath my coat.
His jaw tightened.
“What?”
“Bleeding again.”
Samuel swore.
“No.”
“It isn’t as bad.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ve seen worse.”
“That is not comforting.”
Hayes looked toward the ridge.
A lantern moved between trees in the distance.
The men were following.
“We need shelter.”
Samuel pointed downhill.
“There.”
I saw nothing.
Then Hayes saw it too.
A dark split in the rocks.
A shallow cave.
We reached it ten minutes later.
Hayes covered the entrance with pine branches.
Inside, he started the smallest fire imaginable, shielded by stones so the light would not carry.
He forced me to lie down.
Samuel crawled close.
For the first time since he returned, my husband touched my face with both hands.
“You almost died while I was gone.”
“So did you.”
“I shouldn’t have left.”
“You were trying to save us.”
“I left you alone.”
“And Hayes found me.”
Samuel looked toward the hunter.
Hayes sat at the cave entrance listening.
“I don’t know how to feel about that,” Samuel whispered.
“Grateful would be a start.”
“I am.”
“Then what?”
His eyes lowered.
“Ashamed.”
“Of what?”
“That another man had to do everything I was supposed to do.”
My anger disappeared.
“Oh, Samuel.”
“I was supposed to be there when my son was born.”
“Yes.”
“I was supposed to protect you.”
“You nearly died trying.”
“Doesn’t feel like enough.”
I took his hand.
“Marriage isn’t a contest where whoever suffers most proves the most love.”
His mouth trembled.
I pressed his hand against Hayden’s back.
“Our son is alive. You are alive. I am alive. That is enough tonight.”
For a while neither of us spoke.
Then Hayes raised one hand.
Silence.
A crunch sounded outside.
Snow.
A footstep.
Then another.
One of the men had found us.
Hayes extinguished the fire with a handful of snow.
Darkness swallowed the cave.
I covered Hayden’s mouth gently when he stirred.
A shadow passed across the entrance.
A man whispered.
“Tracks stop here.”
Another voice answered farther away.
“Check the rocks.”
Samuel raised his revolver.
Hayes silently moved beside him.
The footsteps came closer.
Ten feet.
Five.
A rifle barrel pushed between the branches.
Hayes grabbed it.
The man outside shouted.
Everything happened at once.
Hayes yanked him forward, drove a shoulder into him, and sent him sprawling inside the cave.
Samuel fired toward the entrance.
The explosion deafened me.
A second man cursed outside.
Hayes struck the first intruder with the stock of his rifle.
The man went still.
Gunfire erupted from the trees.
Bullets sparked against stone.
I curled over Hayden.
Samuel tried to move toward us.
“Stay down!”
Hayes fired once.
A cry came from outside.
Then silence.
Long seconds passed.
Hayes waited.
No movement.
Finally he crawled toward the opening.
Samuel grabbed his sleeve.
“Don’t.”
Hayes looked down.
“You protect them.”
Samuel’s face hardened.
Hayes slipped outside.
We heard nothing for almost a minute.
Then two shots farther down the slope.
A shout.
Hoofbeats.
Finally Hayes returned.
Blood darkened one sleeve.
I stared.
“You’re hurt.”
“Scratch.”
“Is that your definition or mine?”
“Mine.”
That meant it was probably worse.
The man Hayes had pulled into the cave groaned.
Samuel turned the revolver toward him.
Hayes kicked away his weapon.
“Who are you?”
The stranger spat blood.
“Go to hell.”
Hayes crouched.
“Been there. Roads are better.”
Samuel whispered, “Ask about the money.”
Hayes did.
The man laughed.
“Money?”
“You took eight hundred dollars.”
“That farmer’s?”
“Yes.”
The stranger looked at Samuel.
“That’s what he told you?”
Samuel’s face changed.
Hayes noticed.
“So there’s more.”
The man smiled.
“Ask your Ohio friend what he was really carrying.”
I looked at my husband.
“Samuel?”
He said nothing.
“Samuel.”
The stranger laughed again.
“Oh, she doesn’t know.”
My blood ran colder than the snow.
“Know what?”
The stranger looked directly at me.
“Your husband didn’t ride into that storm just to find a midwife.”