For the next two days, Elena barely slept.
The papers remained hidden beneath a loose floorboard under Caleb's bed.
Every sound outside made her heart race.
Every distant hoofbeat seemed like Thomas.
Caleb wanted to take the documents to Judge Harlan as soon as the road cleared.
Elena agreed.
But the mountain decided otherwise.
A second storm came.
Not as violent as the first, but strong enough to close the pass.
They were trapped.
Thomas knew Elena had survived.
They possessed the evidence Thomas needed destroyed.
And Elena's baby could arrive at any time.
Yet something unexpected happened inside the cabin.
Life continued.
Caleb made breakfast.
Elena repaired clothes.
They argued about coffee.
He liked it strong enough to “wake the dead.”
She accused him of trying to join them.
He laughed more often.
So did she.
The ordinary moments did not erase danger.
They reminded Elena why danger was worth surviving.
One evening she sat near the fire sewing a tear in Caleb's winter coat.
“You don't have to do that,” he said.
“I know.”
He was shaping a piece of wood with a small knife.
“What are you making?”
“Nothing.”
“That looks suspiciously like something.”
Caleb tried to cover it with one hand.
Elena raised an eyebrow.
“Are you hiding evidence from me now?”
He sighed.
Then handed it over.
It was a small wooden horse.
Rough but recognizable.
Elena stared at it.
“You heard me.”
Caleb looked confused.
“What?”
“On the mountain.”
She remembered talking to her unborn baby.
You're going to have a little wooden horse.
“I said I would get one for the baby.”
Caleb glanced at the carving.
“I thought every child should have one.”
Elena ran her thumb over the tiny wooden mane.
“No one has ever made something for my child.”
Caleb became uncomfortable with her emotion.
“Well. It's not finished.”
“It is perfect.”
“No, one leg's too short.”
“So is yours when you've been riding all day.”
He stared.
Elena smiled.
Caleb laughed.
The sound filled the cabin.
Later that night, Elena awoke to voices.
She sat up.
Caleb stood near the window.
Outside someone called his name.
Not Briggs.
Thomas.
“Mercer!”
Elena went cold.
Caleb looked toward her.
“Stay behind me.”
“No.”
“Elena.”
“He came for me.”
“He came for the papers.”
“Then I'm part of this.”
Caleb did not argue.
He handed her a small pistol.
“Know how to use it?”
“No.”
“Point and pull.”
“Comforting.”
“Don't shoot me.”
“I'll try.”
Thomas's voice came again.
“Elena!”
Her skin crawled.
The same man who had abandoned her to die now called her name as though they were separated lovers.
“Elena, I know you're inside!”
Caleb opened the door but remained behind its frame.
Thomas stood approximately thirty feet away.
Briggs and four armed men surrounded him.
Thomas wore an expensive fur-lined coat.
He looked healthy.
Warm.
Untroubled.
Elena hated him for that almost as much as she hated him for leaving.
Then Thomas saw her.
His expression transformed.
“Elena.”
He stepped forward.
Caleb raised his rifle.
Thomas stopped.
“Come home.”
Elena almost laughed.
“You left me on a mountain.”
“I panicked.”
“You threw my bag into the snow.”
“I made a terrible mistake.”
“You said our child might not be yours.”
Thomas looked toward his men as though embarrassed.
“I was angry.”
“You planned to kill me.”
His expression sharpened.
“That is absurd.”
“Is it?”
Thomas took another step.
“You are confused.”
“No.”
“The cold affected you.”
“No.”
“You were emotional before we stopped.”
Elena understood what he was doing.
He was rewriting reality.
If he repeated it often enough, perhaps others would believe him.
She would not.
“I remember everything.”
Thomas's jaw tightened.
“Elena, you are my wife.”
“Only on paper.”
“Come with me.”
“No.”
Thomas looked toward Caleb.
“What has he told you?”
“The truth.”
Caleb remained silent.
Thomas's face darkened.
“You always were bitter, Mercer.”
“Twenty-one graves can do that.”
“That mine collapse was an accident.”
“We'll let a judge decide.”
For the first time, fear flickered across Thomas's face.
Tiny.
But Elena saw it.
“So you found them,” he said.
Elena said nothing.
Thomas smiled.
Not pleasantly.
“You have no idea what those papers mean.”
“They mean you're a murderer.”
“They mean nothing without context.”
“They mean enough to frighten you.”
Thomas looked directly at Elena.
“Give them to me.”
“No.”
“I can forgive this.”
Elena stared.
“Forgive me?”
“Come home. We can begin again.”
“You left me to freeze.”
“I was wrong.”
“You called our baby monstrous.”
Thomas's mouth tightened.
“You are behaving irrationally.”
“No.”
Elena stepped into the doorway.
Caleb shifted closer but did not stop her.
“For the first time since I met you, Thomas, I am thinking clearly.”
Thomas's men moved uneasily.
Perhaps they had expected a helpless wife.
Not this.
“You wanted a respectable woman who smiled beside you and never asked questions.”
Elena's voice grew stronger.
“You thought loneliness made me weak.”
Thomas's face changed.
“You were wrong.”
A gunshot cracked.
Elena screamed.
Wood exploded beside the doorway.
Caleb pulled her inside.
“Down!”
More shots followed.
Windows shattered.
Caleb fired through the opening.
One of Thomas's riders yelled.
Elena crawled toward the stone fireplace.
Her baby kicked frantically.
“Caleb!”
“Stay low!”
Glass scattered across the floor.
Thomas shouted from outside.
“Stop shooting! I need her alive!”
Alive.
Not safe.
Alive.
Elena understood why.
Only she knew where the papers were.
Caleb fired again.
Then silence.
He moved toward the rear window.
“They're spreading out.”
“What do we do?”
“Stable tunnel.”
“What?”
Caleb lifted a trapdoor beneath a rug.
A narrow passage descended underneath the cabin.
“Built it after the mine collapse.”
“Where does it go?”
“Stable.”
“Why?”
“In case fire blocked the front door.”
Elena looked at her belly.
“I can't crawl fast.”
“You won't have to.”
Caleb grabbed the hidden documents, ammunition, and blankets.
Then he helped Elena descend.
Gunshots resumed above them.
The tunnel was narrow.
Dark.
Elena crawled slowly.
Halfway through, pain seized her abdomen.
She stopped.
“No.”
Caleb turned.
“What?”
Elena breathed sharply.
“Contraction.”
“Now?”
She glared.
“I'll speak to the baby about scheduling.”
Another pain.
Stronger.
Caleb's face went pale.
“Keep moving.”
They reached the stable.
Horses stamped nervously.
Caleb saddled the bay.
“Where are we going?”
“Abandoned church down the valley.”
“In this weather?”
“Better than being trapped here.”
He helped Elena onto the horse.
Then flames appeared through the cabin roof.
Elena gasped.
“They set it on fire.”
Caleb's eyes reflected orange light.
His home.
Everything he had built after losing his family.
Burning.
“Caleb—”
“Go.”
“But your cabin—”
“It's wood.”
His voice was rough.
“You're not.”
They rode into the storm.
Behind them, the cabin burned like a beacon.
Ahead lay darkness.
They had traveled perhaps half a mile when Elena felt something warm between her legs.
Her entire body froze.
“Caleb.”
He heard the fear.
“What?”
“My water broke.”
Caleb stared at her.
“No.”
Elena almost laughed hysterically.
“I'm afraid the baby didn't ask your permission.”
A contraction nearly pulled her from the saddle.
Caleb caught her.
The abandoned church was still miles away.
The cabin burned behind them.
Thomas and his men were somewhere in the storm.
And their child had chosen that exact moment to enter the world.