The henchman with the torch stumbled, dropping the fire harmlessly into the deep wet snow, and collapsed backward, clutching a fatal wound in his chest. Caleb looked at Cora in sheer amazement. She met his gaze with a grim warrior's nod. Before Caleb could speak, the heavy oak door groaned under a cataclysmic impact.
The wood splintered, and the heavy iron hinges tore completely free from the frame. Wyatt lunged into the room, his eyes wild and bloodshot. He had discarded his heavy rifle in the snow for speed, banking on brute force and surprise. In his massive fist gleamed a 12-inch Bowie knife.
Wyatt threw his entire body weight at Caleb. The sheer velocity of the impact drove Caleb backward, slamming him brutally against the cast iron stove. The searing heat burned through Caleb's flannel shirt as Wyatt brought the heavy blade down, aiming straight for Caleb's throat. Caleb caught Wyatt's thick wrist with both hands, his muscles screaming against the larger man's overwhelming strength.
Wyatt's face was inches away, his breath reeking of stale whiskey and metallic chewing tobacco. "Trent sends his regards," Wyatt snarled, bearing down, the razor-sharp tip of the knife inching mercilessly closer to Caleb's jugular. "Tell him to go to hell," Caleb grunted through gritted teeth. He drove his knee hard into Wyatt's stomach, but the thick wolf skin coat absorbed the blow.
Caleb's strength was rapidly fading under the crushing weight. Suddenly, Wyatt arched his back, a guttural howl of pure agony tearing from his throat. Cora had crossed the room with the silent speed of a striking viper. Without a second of hesitation, she drove the jagged heavy iron fire poker deep into the back of Wyatt's thigh.
Wyatt roared, his grip faltering. He blindly swung a massive fist backward, striking Cora viciously across the jaw. She flew backward, crashing onto the floorboards with a sharp gasp as her injured ribs took the brunt of the fall. It was the only opening Caleb needed.
With a desperate primal surge of adrenaline, he twisted violently, broke Wyatt's grip, and drove his own hunting knife upward. The blade buried itself to the hilt beneath Wyatt's ribs. Wyatt froze, his eyes widening in profound shock. He looked down at Caleb, his mouth opening in a silent gasp before his massive body went entirely limp, crashing heavily onto the bloody floorboards.
Silence slammed back into the cabin, ringing in their ears. Caleb pushed himself up, his chest heaving, his hands trembling. He grabbed his rifle and moved cautiously to the window. The fourth man, witnessing his boss fall, had already mounted his horse and was spurring it furiously away into the blinding white valley.
They had won. Caleb dropped his weapon and rushed to Cora, gently lifting her. A dark bruise was blooming on her jaw, but her eyes burned with an unyielding fierce light. He walked to the table, picked up Elias's silver watch containing the deed, and pressed it securely into her warm hands.
"When the spring thaw comes," Caleb vowed, his voice a low, ironclad promise, "we ride to Cheyenne. We finish this." Cora gripped the silver watch tightly, leaning her head against his shoulder. Together.