Summer transformed the mountain.
Snow disappeared except from the highest peaks.
Wildflowers covered the valley.
Rose learned to roll over first.
Ruth learned louder.
Lydia insisted those were different accomplishments.
Elias agreed because disagreement had become dangerous.
They settled into a life neither had expected.
Lydia planted vegetables beside the cabin.
Elias expanded the barn.
Silas visited every Sunday.
Mary visited whenever she pleased, which was much more often.
Daniel began courting Caleb Trent’s younger sister from Fort Benton.
Caleb accepted work with Garrett and started training as a deputy.
Even Cedar Crossing changed.
Without Edwin controlling debts and contracts, several ranchers spoke openly about what had happened.
Some apologized.
Others avoided Lydia.
She preferred the apologies that came with actions.
One woman, Martha Bell, admitted she had watched the whipping and said nothing.
“I was afraid of Edwin.”
Lydia understood fear.
She did not pretend fear erased responsibility.
“Then next time,” Lydia told her, “be afraid and speak anyway.”
Martha cried.
Lydia hugged her.
Healing became complicated.
It could hold anger and mercy at the same time.
By August, the court formally dissolved Lydia’s marriage to Thomas.
She stared at the paper for a long time.
Elias found her beside the creek.
“You all right?”
“Yes.”
He sat beside her.
“It feels strange.”
“Freedom?”
“Ending.”
He understood.
She looked at him.
“Thomas wrote.”
Elias’s expression did not change.
“What did he say?”
“He apologized again. Said he’s working in the prison carpentry shop. Said he doesn’t expect an answer.”
“Will you send one?”
“I don’t know.”
Elias nodded.
No jealousy.
No command.
Just trust.
That was one of the reasons Lydia loved him.
She had not told him yet.
The words frightened her more than the trial.
Not because she doubted them.
Because they mattered.
Autumn approached.
Elias began cutting winter wood.
One evening, he returned from the upper ridge with a letter.
“Garrett.”
Lydia opened it.
Her expression changed.
“What?”
“Edwin escaped.”
Elias took the letter.
Two prisoners overpowered a transport guard during a transfer.
One died during the escape.
Edwin vanished.
Marr remained imprisoned.
The territory assumed Edwin would run south.
Elias did not.
“He’ll come here.”
Lydia looked at him.
“You’re sure?”
“He blames you.”
“He could go anywhere.”
“He spent his whole life believing everything belonged to him.”
Elias looked toward Rose and Ruth playing on a blanket.
“He won’t leave unfinished business.”
Lydia’s fear returned.
Old.
Familiar.
But weaker than before.
“What do we do?”
“Send you to Silas.”
“No.”
“Lydia.”
“No.”
“The girls—”
“Can go to Silas with Mary.”
Elias stared.
“I’m not leaving you alone.”
“This isn’t stubbornness.”
“It is absolutely stubbornness.”
“Then you taught me.”
He almost argued.
Then saw her expression.
“You’re staying.”
“Yes.”
“I hate this.”
“I know.”
They sent Rose and Ruth down the mountain with Mary the next morning.
Lydia cried after the wagon disappeared.
Elias held her.
Not as rescuer.
As partner.
Garrett sent deputies.
They searched the trails.
Nothing.
Two nights passed.
Three.
On the fourth, rain came.
Cold autumn rain.
Elias woke before dawn.
Something was wrong.
The barn door stood open.
He reached for his rifle.
“Lydia.”
She woke instantly.
“What?”
“Stay here.”
She did not argue.
That worried him more than if she had.
Elias stepped outside.
The yard was empty.
Rain struck the roof.
He walked toward the barn.
Buck was gone.
The back gate hung open.
Then a voice came behind him.
“Drop it.”
Elias stopped.
Edwin Hale stood near the woodpile.
Thin.
Unshaven.
Wild-eyed.
A revolver pointed at Elias.
Elias slowly lowered the rifle.
“Kick it away.”
He did.
Edwin laughed.
“The mountain man.”
Elias remained still.
“You look terrible.”
Edwin’s face twisted.
“Still clever.”
“No. Just observant.”
Edwin gestured toward the cabin.
“Bring her out.”
“No.”
“I’ll kill you.”
“Probably.”
Edwin’s hand trembled.
“You think I won’t?”
“I think if you wanted me dead first, you would’ve fired already.”
Edwin stepped closer.
“You ruined everything.”
“No.”
“She did.”
“No.”
“My son betrayed me.”
“You taught him cowardice. Eventually he got tired of it.”
Edwin struck Elias with the revolver.
Elias staggered.
Blood ran from his eyebrow.
Inside, Lydia heard the impact.
She held Elias’s spare pistol.
Her hands shook.
She breathed.
Once.
Twice.
She was not the woman tied to the post.
She was not dying in the snow.
She was not alone.
She moved toward the back door.
Outside, Edwin shoved Elias to his knees.
“You should have left her where you found her.”
Elias wiped blood from his eye.
“That bothered you, didn’t it?”
“What?”
“She lived.”
Edwin’s breathing became ragged.
“Women like her destroy families.”
“No.”
Elias looked up.
“Men like you do.”
Edwin raised the revolver.
Lydia stepped from behind the cabin.
“Edwin.”
He turned.
She stood ten yards away.
Pistol aimed at the ground.
Not him.
His smile was terrifying.
“There you are.”
Elias shouted, “Lydia, go inside!”
“No.”
Edwin aimed at her.
Elias moved.
Edwin fired.
The shot exploded.
Lydia screamed.
Elias struck Edwin’s arm.
The bullet hit the barn.
They crashed into the mud.
Edwin was older but desperate.
Desperation gave strength.
He drove a knee into Elias.
Elias grabbed his wrist.
The revolver fired again.
Lydia ran closer.
“Elias!”
“Stay back!”
Edwin kicked him away.
He raised the gun toward Lydia.
She lifted hers.
But she could not fire.
Not yet.
Edwin smiled.
“You’re weak.”
Lydia stared.
Rain ran down her face.
“You still believe that.”
He stepped toward her.
“You should have died in that snow.”
Lydia’s fear vanished.
Not completely.
Courage was never the absence of fear.
It was deciding fear was not in charge.
She raised the pistol.
“Drop it.”
Edwin laughed.
“You won’t shoot.”
“Maybe.”
He raised his weapon.
“But Elias will.”
Edwin froze.
Elias stood behind him.
He had recovered the rifle.
“Drop it,” Elias said.
Edwin’s face collapsed.
For the first time, he looked old.
Defeated.
“No.”
“Edwin.”
“No!”
He spun.
A shot cracked.
Edwin fell.
Silence followed.
Lydia dropped her pistol.
Elias lowered the rifle.
Edwin lay in the mud clutching his shoulder.
Alive.
A second gun smoked from the trees.
Sheriff Garrett emerged on horseback.
Behind him rode Caleb Trent and two deputies.
Garrett holstered his revolver.
“Was hoping not to do that before breakfast.”
Elias stared.
“You shot him?”
Garrett dismounted.
“You’re welcome.”
Caleb ran forward.
Lydia laughed.
It came out half sob.
Garrett placed Edwin in irons.
Again.
“This time,” he said, “I suggest staying in prison.”
Edwin glared.
Lydia approached.
He looked at her.
Hatred remained.
But it no longer controlled anything.
“You took my family.”
Lydia shook her head.
“You never understood family.”
Edwin said nothing.
“They’re not people you own.”
Her voice remained calm.
“They’re people you protect.”
She looked at Elias.
Elias looked back.
Edwin was taken away.
Afterward, the yard became strangely quiet.
Lydia examined Elias’s forehead.
“You’re bleeding.”
“So are my feelings.”
“What?”
“You didn’t listen when I told you to stay inside.”
She stared.
Then shoved his shoulder.
“Ow.”
“You deserved that.”
“I was shot at.”
“You were not hit.”
“Emotionally.”
She laughed.
Then began crying.
Elias immediately became serious.
“Hey.”
She pressed her face against his chest.
He wrapped his arms around her.
“I thought he killed you.”
“I’m here.”
“I know.”
She looked up.
Rain moved down his beard.
Mud covered his coat.
Blood marked one eyebrow.
He looked terrible.
She had never loved anyone more.
“I love you.”
Elias froze.
Lydia immediately wanted to hide.
“Well.”
He blinked.
“That was romantic.”
“I didn’t expect you to say it while I was covered in mud.”
“Would Tuesday be better?”
His mouth twitched.
“Probably.”
“Forget it.”
She tried to move away.
He caught her.
“Lydia.”
“What?”
“I love you too.”
She stopped.
“Say it again.”
“You heard me.”
“Elias.”
He smiled.
“I love you.”
Lydia kissed him in the rain.
Garrett cleared his throat from twenty feet away.
“If this becomes any more touching, I’m charging admission.”
Lydia laughed against Elias’s mouth.
Elias looked over.
“Go away, Samuel.”
“Happy to.”
Garrett rode down the trail with the deputies and Edwin.
Caleb followed after giving Lydia a wide grin.
Soon the mountain belonged to them again.
Elias held Lydia.
“Marry me.”
She stared.
“What?”
“I had a better plan.”
“Apparently not.”
“There was supposed to be dinner.”
“Elias—”
“And flowers.”
“You’re proposing because a criminal attacked us?”
“No.”
“Because I said I love you?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
He looked toward the cabin.
“Because every time I imagine winter now, you’re in it.”
Her eyes filled.
“I imagine you beside the fire.”
His voice softened.
“Rose throwing something.”
“Probably at you.”
“Ruth screaming.”
“She prefers singing.”
“She does not.”
Lydia laughed through tears.
Elias continued.
“I imagine growing old enough that those girls start telling me what I’m doing wrong.”
“They won’t need to grow very old.”
“Lydia.”
She smiled.
He took both her hands.
“I spent years believing being alone meant nobody could be taken from me.”
His expression grew serious.
“All it did was make sure nobody could stay.”
Lydia squeezed his hands.
“I don’t want to live like that anymore.”
Neither did she.
“Ask me properly.”
Elias sighed.
“You are difficult.”
“You love me.”
“That is unfortunately true.”
She smiled.
He lowered himself to one knee in the mud.
Lydia gasped.
“Elias, I was joking!”
“Too late.”
He looked up.
“Lydia Hale, will you marry me, share my cabin, argue about my furniture, criticize my carpentry, fill my house with plants I trip over, and help me raise two girls who have already learned to control me?”
Lydia laughed so hard she cried harder.
“Yes.”
Elias stood.
“That’s it?”
“Yes!”
He kissed her.
The rain continued.
Winter was coming.
For once, neither of them feared it.
Because this time, whatever came through the mountains would find a family waiting together.
---