Don't," Jonah said. He did not look at the leader he had pinned. He looked at the other two. His eyes were flat, devoid of fear, devoid of hesitation. His hand hovered over the colt at his hip.
"If you pull those knives," Jonah said softly. "You will die in this alley, and no one will care enough to bury you. " The men hesitated. They looked at Jonah's face, at the scar, at the sheer size of him. They looked at the eyes of a man who had seen death a thousand times and made peace with it. The leader groaned, sliding down the wall.
Jonah released him. He stepped back to Millie, putting an arm around her waist. Go back to your drinks. Jonah said, "Tell Pritchard that if he wants her, he can come up the mountain himself, but tell him to bring a shovel. " He guided Millie to the horses. They mounted up, their movement stiff and jerky.
They rode out of the alley, leaving the three men staring after them in the gathering dusk. The ride back up the mountain was silent. The adrenaline that had sustained them in town began to fade, replaced by a deep, vibrating tension. They had poked the bear. They had walked into the lion's den and slapped it.
By sundown, the rumors would be flying. Jonah Crow is keeping the Laroo girl. She has bewitched him. They are thieves. They are lovers.
The town would turn their survival into a dirty joke. But as they climbed higher, leaving the smoke and the noise behind, the air grew clean again. The silence of the ridge wrapped around them. They reached the cabin well after dark. The cold was intense, biting through their coats.
Jonah stabled the horses, rubbing them down quickly, while Millie went inside to light the stove. When Jonah entered the cabin, the fire was roaring. The room was warm, smelling of pine and the faint, sweet scent of the dried apples Clara had given them. He barred the door. He dropped the heavy wooden beam into place with a thud that felt final.
He turned to look at Millie. She had taken off the heavy coat and the scarf. She was standing by the stove. Her hands held out to the heat. She was shaking.
Jonah thought it was the cold or the fear catching up to her. He crossed the room. Millie, he said, you are safe. She turned to face him. Her eyes were wide, dark and wild.
Safe, she said, her voice cracking. Did you hear them, Jonah? Did you see how they looked at me? Like I was meat, like I was nothing, she was trembling violently now. If you hadn't been there, she whispered.
But I was there, Jonah said. He stepped closer. Millie looked up at him. She looked at the bandage on his shoulder at the fatigue etched into his face. She reached out and touched his chest, her hand resting over his heart.