“Silas!”
Adelaide reached the burning barn just as one mule burst through the door.
She threw herself aside.
The animal galloped into the snow.
Smoke rolled through the doorway.
“Silas!”
A figure emerged.
Silas dragged the second mule by its halter.
His coat sleeve burned.
Adelaide grabbed snow and crushed it against the flames.
Silas stared at her.
“What are you doing out here?”
“Saving you.”
“I was saving the mule.”
“I noticed!”
“You’re bleeding.”
“So are you.”
He looked down.
A nail had torn his hand.
“Cabin,” Adelaide gasped.
They turned.
Fire had spread along the roof.
Jonah and two townsmen who had followed his trail were throwing buckets of snow against the wall.
It was not enough.
Silas rushed toward the cabin.
Adelaide caught his coat.
“The ledger is inside.”
“I know.”
“My trunk—”
“Forget the trunk.”
“My father’s—”
“Adelaide.”
He looked at her.
“Things can burn.”
She froze.
He touched her face.
“You don’t.”
Then he ran inside.
Adelaide’s heart stopped.
Seconds became unbearable.
Smoke poured from the door.
Then Silas emerged carrying her trunk.
“You idiot!” she shouted.
He dropped it into the snow.
“You were going to complain either way.”
The roof collapsed behind him.
The sound shook the valley.
Adelaide grabbed him.
Not carefully.
Not politely.
She wrapped both arms around his neck and held him.
Silas hesitated only a second before pulling her against him.
The fire burned through the night.
They saved half the barn.
The cabin was gone.
By sunrise, only blackened logs remained.
Adelaide sat wrapped in blankets beside the ruins.
Silas opened her trunk.
Water had damaged some clothing.
One photograph had cracked.
The ledger remained safe beneath the false bottom.
Adelaide laughed weakly.
Silas looked at her.
“What?”
“Theodore failed.”
“For now.”
“No.”
She held up the ledger.
“He sent men. Kidnapped Jonah. Burned the cabin.”
Her expression hardened.
“And I’m still here.”
Silas crouched beside her.
“You also reopened your wound.”
“I noticed.”
“I need to look at it.”
Adelaide eyed him suspiciously.
“No pine pitch.”
“Wasn’t planning any.”
“No knife.”
“Adelaide.”
“No terrifying strips of steaming cloth.”
Silas sighed.
“I regret saving you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“No.”
His expression softened.
“I don’t.”
They stayed at Jonah’s cabin for three days.
Preston Vale and his men were locked in the trading station’s storage room under guard.
Theodore had made another mistake.
He had assumed Montana settlers would accept his money.
Instead, once news spread that his men had kidnapped Jonah and burned Silas’s home, fifty dollars stopped sounding like temptation.
It sounded like an insult.
On the fourth morning, a stage arrived carrying Deputy U.S. Marshal Henry Colson.
He was a broad man with silver spectacles.
He listened to Adelaide without interruption.
Then he examined Theodore’s letter.
Vale’s false warrant.
Her father’s ledger.
“You understand this could become a substantial federal case.”
“Yes.”
“Fraud across state lines. Bribery. Possible intimidation.”
“Yes.”
“You may need to testify.”
Adelaide looked at Silas.
He gave no signal.
No instruction.
He merely waited.
Her choice.
She turned back to Colson.
“I’ll testify.”
The marshal nodded.
“There is something else.”
He removed papers from his bag.
“Vale carried correspondence with an attorney in Helena. One letter refers to a document signed by your mother.”
Adelaide went cold.
“What document?”
Colson hesitated.
“An affidavit claiming you are mentally unstable and unable to manage your own affairs.”
Silas rose.
Adelaide remained still.
Her mother.
Of all the wounds Theodore could deliver, that one reached deepest.
“What would that do?”
“Potentially allow a guardian to control property or compel your return under certain circumstances.”
“Is it valid?”
“Not by itself.”
Adelaide closed her eyes.
She saw Margaret Mercer beside the stove.
Calculating flour.
Calculating debt.
Calculating the value of her daughter.
“What did he give her?”
Colson adjusted his spectacles.
“According to the letter, Theodore paid the mortgage on her house.”
The room went silent.
Adelaide stood.
Her healing leg trembled.
Silas stepped forward.
She shook her head.
He stopped.
“I need air.”
Outside, snow glittered beneath a bright sky.
Adelaide walked toward the creek.
Silas followed at a distance.
After several minutes, she spoke.
“You can come closer.”
He did.
“She chose the house.”
Silas said nothing.
“She chose a building.”
“People make cowardly choices when they’re afraid.”
“That doesn’t excuse it.”
“No.”
Adelaide appreciated that answer.
Silas never tried to soften truth until it became meaningless.
“I kept hoping those letters in my trunk said she was sorry.”
“Maybe they do.”
“I don’t want to know.”
“Then don’t read them.”
She laughed sadly.
“You always make things sound simple.”
“They’re not simple.”
“No?”
“No.”
Silas looked toward the mountains.
“But difficult doesn’t mean complicated.”
Adelaide turned.
“What does that mean?”
“You know what you want.”
“Do I?”
“You don’t want Voss.”
“No.”
“You don’t want to go back.”
“No.”
“You want your father’s truth known.”
“Yes.”
“You want your life to belong to you.”
Adelaide swallowed.
“Yes.”
Silas looked at her.
“Then those are the directions.”
“And everything between?”
“Hard country.”
She smiled faintly.
“Mountain man philosophy?”
“Something like that.”
Adelaide lowered her gaze.
“There’s another thing I want.”
Silas waited.
She looked up.
“You.”
Silas went still.
Adelaide’s heart pounded harder than it had facing Preston Vale.
“I wanted an escape when I answered your letter.”
She stepped closer.
“But I don’t want marriage to be an escape anymore.”
Silas’s breath slowed.
“I want it to be a choice.”
He nodded.
“So choose.”
Adelaide stared.
“That is all you have to say?”
“I told you. Bad with words.”
She laughed.
Then Silas surprised her.
He dropped to one knee in the snow.
Adelaide’s laughter stopped.
“Silas?”
He removed his glove.
His hands were scarred.
Burned.
Work-worn.
Real.
“Adelaide Mercer,” he said, “I don’t have a cabin anymore.”
She covered her mouth.
“I have some cattle, two mules, a piece of land, and the ruins of a stove.”
Her eyes filled.
“I’m told my stew is poor.”
“It is.”
“I don’t know how to dance.”
“I suspected.”
“I’m older than you.”
“Obviously.”
Silas frowned.
“Are you going to let me finish?”
“I’m considering it.”
His beard twitched.
Then his expression grew serious.
“I cannot promise easy.”
Adelaide’s eyes blurred.
“I can promise I will never ask you to make yourself smaller.”
A tear slid down her cheek.
“I can promise your decisions remain yours.”
Another tear.
“And if you want me, I will spend whatever years I have left building something with you.”
He held out his hand.
“Not for you.”
His voice softened.
“With you.”
Adelaide was crying openly now.
She nodded.
“Yes.”
Silas blinked.
“Is that—”
“Yes, you impossible man.”
She pulled him to his feet.
Then Adelaide kissed him.
It was not graceful.
She was six feet two.
He was standing on uneven snow.
His hat fell off.
Neither cared.
Jonah’s voice came from the cabin porch.
“About time!”
Adelaide broke away.
Silas looked murderous.
Jonah waved.
“Marshal needs you!”
Adelaide laughed against Silas’s chest.
Silas rested his forehead against hers.
“One day,” he murmured, “I’m moving farther from neighbors.”
“You already live twelve miles away.”
“Not enough.”
They returned to the cabin.
Marshal Colson stood holding a telegram.
His expression was grim.
“Miss Mercer.”
Adelaide’s happiness tightened into caution.
“What happened?”
“We sent inquiries to St. Louis.”
“And?”
“Theodore Voss has left Missouri.”
Silas’s eyes hardened.
Colson continued.
“He boarded a westbound train three days ago.”
Adelaide’s stomach dropped.
“He’s coming here.”
“Yes.”
Silas reached for his rifle.
The marshal lifted a hand.
“No. This time we let him come.”
Adelaide stared.
“Why?”
Colson placed the ledger on the table.
“Because Mr. Voss thinks he’s coming to retrieve evidence.”
A slow understanding passed through the room.
Colson smiled without humor.
“And I would very much like to hear what he says when he believes no lawman is listening.”
Adelaide looked at Silas.
He looked back.
This had begun as her escape.
Now it would end with Theodore walking directly into the truth.
---