By late spring, Wolverine Ridge was transformed.
Snow vanished from the lower slopes.
Green grass spread through the meadow.
The creek ran bright with meltwater.
Charlene's sewing business expanded so quickly that Jeb converted part of the barn into a workroom.
Ruth called it "Mama's shop."
The first time Charlene heard it, she had to pretend dust entered her eye.
They paid the bank.
Every last dollar.
Jeb placed the receipt in Abigail's wooden box.
"Done."
Charlene stared at it.
"The ranch is ours?"
"Always was."
"You know what I mean."
Jeb smiled.
"Yes."
Caleb whooped so loudly that a flock of birds left the trees.
That evening they celebrated with venison, potatoes, molasses cake, and the last jar of preserved peaches.
After supper, Jeb called Caleb outside.
Charlene watched from the window.
He handed the boy something.
A rifle.
Not Jeb's old hunting rifle.
A smaller one.
Caleb stared at it.
"What?"
Ruth asked beside Charlene.
"I think your father is telling him he's becoming a man."
Ruth rolled her eyes.
"Boys need guns for that?"
"Apparently."
They laughed.
Then Ruth became serious.
"Are you going to stay forever?"
Charlene looked down.
"Why would you ask?"
"Because people leave."
There it was.
The fear beneath everything.
Abigail had left through death.
Neighbors had stopped visiting afterward.
Relatives promised help but rarely came.
Children who experienced enough loss eventually expected everyone to disappear.
Charlene knelt.
"I can't promise what God or life will do."
Ruth's face fell.
"But I can promise I will never choose to leave you."
Ruth wrapped her arms around her.
Charlene held her tightly.
That night, Jeb found Charlene sitting on the porch.
"You all right?"
"Yes."
He sat beside her.
For a while they listened to crickets.
Then Charlene said, "Ruth asked if I'm staying."
Jeb's hands folded between his knees.
"What'd you say?"
"That I would."
He nodded.
"Good."
Charlene smiled.
"You don't sound surprised."
"Ain't."
"Why?"
Jeb looked at her.
"Because you stay."
Two simple words.
They affected Charlene more than poetry could have.
He took her hand.
"Charlene."
She waited.
"I didn't marry you right."
She blinked.
"What?"
"I asked because children needed you."
"That's true."
"Wasn't fair."
"I said yes."
"Still."
He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles.
"I'd ask different now."
Her heart began beating harder.
"How?"
Jeb stood.
Then, to Charlene's astonishment, he lowered himself onto one knee.
She laughed softly.
"What are you doing?"
"What I should've done."
"Your leg."
"Quit ruining this."
She covered her mouth.
Jeb looked up at her.
"When I met you, I thought I needed somebody to help raise five children."
His voice grew rough.
"I was wrong."
Charlene's eyes filled.
"I needed you."
"Jeb—"
"Not because you cook. Not because you sew. Not because Tommy won't sleep without you or Ruth won't let anybody else braid her hair."
He swallowed.
"I need you because when you ain't in a room, I notice."
Charlene cried openly now.
"I need you because this mountain felt like a grave after Abby died."
He looked toward the glowing windows.
"Now it feels like home again."
Charlene placed both hands over her heart.
"Will you marry me, Charlene Stewart Russell?"
She laughed through tears.
"We're already married."
"Will you keep doing it?"
"Every day."
He rose.
She kissed him before he could say anything else.
That night, their marriage truly began.
Not from obligation.
Not from loneliness.
From love.
For several weeks, life became almost unbearably good.
That should have warned them.
The fire started in June.
Caleb smelled smoke after midnight.
He ran downstairs.
"Pa!"
Jeb woke instantly.
Charlene smelled it too.
Not fireplace smoke.
Something thicker.
Outside, orange light flickered beyond the barn.
"Fire!"
Jeb shouted.
The children scrambled from their beds.
Flames climbed the side of Charlene's workshop.
Dry timber caught with terrifying speed.
"Water line!"
Jeb yelled.
Caleb ran toward the creek pump.
Charlene gathered the younger children.
"Ruth, take Tommy to the meadow."
"What about—"
"Now!"
Smoke poured across the yard.
The barn roof ignited.
Horses screamed inside.
Jeb ran toward them.
"Jeb!"
Charlene shouted.
He disappeared into the smoke.
Caleb and Samuel formed a bucket line.
Charlene handed Tommy to Ruth.
"Stay here."
She ran back.
Jeb emerged leading two horses.
"One more!"
He coughed violently.
"Leave it!"
"Can't."
He went in again.
A beam collapsed.
Charlene screamed.
For one terrible second, nothing moved.
Then Jeb burst through another door with the final horse.
They barely cleared the barn before part of the roof caved in.
Charlene threw her arms around him.
"Don't ever do that again."
"Horse would've died."
"So could you!"
"I didn't."
She hit his chest.
Then hugged him harder.
They fought the blaze until dawn.
The barn burned.
Charlene's workshop burned.
Months of fabric, finished orders, tools, and supplies vanished.
But the cabin survived.
The children survived.
The animals survived.
As smoke rose into morning light, Charlene stood among blackened boards.
Jeb touched her shoulder.
"I'm sorry."
She looked at the ruins.
"How did it start?"
Caleb answered.
"It didn't."
They turned.
He held something.
A kerosene can.
Jeb's expression changed.
"Where'd you find that?"
"Behind the workshop."
The cap lay nearby.
Charlene's blood chilled.
"Someone set it."
Jeb stared toward the tree line.
He took his rifle.
"Pa."
Caleb grabbed his arm.
Jeb looked at him.
The boy shook his head.
"That's what she'd say."
He meant Charlene.
Jeb looked at his wife.
She nodded.
"We call the sheriff."
Sheriff Colton arrived by afternoon.
Tracks led toward the lower road.
The investigation revealed a horse had been tied near the ridge.
Then a witness appeared.
An old trapper had seen a man riding away around midnight.
The description matched Silas Mercer.
Mercer had been released pending trial.
Now he was desperate.
The fire was revenge.
But Mercer had disappeared.
The sheriff warned them to remain careful.
Jeb became nearly unbearable.
He checked windows constantly.
Slept with a rifle beside the bed.
Followed Charlene when she went to the creek.
"You're hovering."
"Protecting."
"Hovering."
"Same thing."
"It is not."
One afternoon Charlene found him sharpening a knife while staring into the woods.
She sat beside him.
"You're frightening the children."
His hands stopped.
"I ain't letting Mercer near you."
"Then don't let fear take over our home before he does."
Jeb looked at her.
Charlene touched his hand.
"You spent two years living as if death might come through the door again."
He lowered his eyes.
"I understand why."
Her voice softened.
"But we fought too hard to make this place alive."
Jeb put down the knife.
That evening he played cards with the children.
He cheated badly.
Ruth caught him.
The laughter helped.
Two days later, Nathaniel arrived.
Jeb's expression immediately soured.
"What?"
Nathaniel dismounted.
"Mercer came to Bitter Creek."
Charlene stepped forward.
"When?"
"Last night."
"What did he want?"
"Money."
Nathaniel's face was tense.
"He thinks I owe him because my testimony destroyed him."
"Where is he now?"
"I don't know."
Jeb cursed.
Nathaniel continued.
"He said something about the ridge."
Charlene felt cold.
"What exactly?"
Nathaniel hesitated.
"He said, 'Russell took the land, but I can still take what he loves.'"
Jeb went completely still.
"Children."
Charlene whispered.
Jeb was already moving.
"Caleb!"
No answer.
"Ruth!"
Silence.
Charlene ran into the cabin.
Empty.
Then she remembered.
"They went berry picking."
Jeb's face drained.
"North slope."
They ran.
Jeb, Charlene, Nathaniel, and Sheriff Colton—who had followed the banker—rode toward the north slope.
They found the berry baskets abandoned.
Ruth's ribbon hung from a branch.
Charlene nearly stopped breathing.
Then a gunshot echoed.
Jeb drove his horse forward.
They reached an old logging clearing.
Mercer stood beside a wagon.
Caleb was on the ground, blood at his temple.
Ruth held Tommy.
Samuel and Henry huddled behind them.
Mercer had a pistol.
"Stop there!"
Jeb did.
His voice sounded like death.
"Let them go."
Mercer laughed.
"You ruined me."
"Kids didn't."
"Neither did I. Your wife did."
His gaze found Charlene.
"All because some barren seamstress couldn't mind her business."
Charlene flinched.
Not from the old insult.
From the hatred in his voice.
Jeb dismounted.
"Say another word about her."
Mercer raised the pistol.
Nathaniel whispered, "Don't."
Jeb ignored him.
"You're not walking away from this."
Mercer smiled.
"Neither are you."
Caleb suddenly moved.
He kicked Mercer's knee.
The gun fired.
Charlene screamed.
Jeb rushed forward.
Mercer fell.
Sheriff Colton tackled him.
Nathaniel pulled Caleb away.
Jeb reached the children.
"Anybody hit?"
Caleb shook his head.
The bullet had gone into the trees.
Charlene dropped to her knees and gathered Ruth, Tommy, Samuel, and Henry.
Then Caleb entered the embrace.
Jeb wrapped himself around all of them.
For several seconds nobody spoke.
Mercer cursed as the sheriff bound his wrists.
Nathaniel stood nearby, pale.
Caleb touched the blood on his forehead.
"Ow."
Charlene laughed and cried at once.
"Now you notice?"
He smiled weakly.
Mercer was taken away.
This time there would be no release.
Kidnapping, arson, and attempted murder ensured that.
On the ride home, Tommy slept against Charlene.
Ruth leaned against Jeb.
Caleb rode beside them.
Nathaniel traveled silently.
At the ridge road, he stopped.
"I'll go back."
Charlene looked at him.
"Thank you for warning us."
Nathaniel nodded.
He looked toward the children.
Then at Jeb.
"You have something I didn't understand before."
Jeb frowned.
"What's that?"
Nathaniel looked at Charlene.
"A family isn't the name passed down."
His voice was quiet.
"It's the people who would run into a burning building for one another."
He turned his horse.
Charlene watched him disappear.
That evening, the Russell family stood before the ruins of the barn.
Caleb asked, "What now?"
Jeb sighed.
"Rebuild."
Charlene slipped her hand into his.
"Again."
Jeb looked at her.
"Again."