"They will not stop until they find me." The cabin fell silent. Outside, the wind had picked up again, whistling through the gaps in the walls. Clara looked at Nolan, at Kaya, at Eli, and felt the weight of decision pressing down on her. This was danger. Real danger.
The kind that could get people killed. The smart thing would be to distance herself to tell Eli to take Nolan and Kaya somewhere else, anywhere else before this. Silas Krenshaw came looking. But Clara had lost her husband and her son to forces beyond her control. She had spent two years being helpless, watching the people she loved slip away while she stood by unable to do anything.
She was done being helpless." How many men?" she asked. Nolan blinked clearly, not expecting the question." What?" "How many men does Krenshaw have?" "I do not know. Six, maybe eight.
I have not counted." "And when did you last see them?" "Two days before the storm. In the foothills east of here." Clara nodded a plan forming in her mind. She turned to Eli." The storm will have slowed them down. It bought us time." "How long until the pass is clear enough for horses?" Eli considered.
"Four days minimum. Maybe five." "Then we have four days to prepare." "Prepare for what?" Nolan asked. Clara met her eyes. "For whatever comes next." The days that followed took on a rhythm that Clara had not felt since William was alive. There was work to do, always work to do, when winter trapped you in a cabin with dwindling supplies and uncertain danger on the horizon.
Eli hunted. Each morning before dawn, he took his rifle and disappeared into the white wilderness returning hours later with whatever the land would give rabbit, squirrel, once a young deer that they butchered in the snow and hung in Clara's cold cellar. He said little, but his presence filled the cabin with a quiet steadiness that Clara found herself relying on more than she wanted to admit. She noticed other things about him, too. The careful way he moved around Nolan and Kaya always announcing himself before entering a room, always giving them space.
The gentleness in his hands when he helped Clara with the heavier work. The way his eyes would find hers across the cabin and hold for just a moment before looking away. "He is a good man," Nolan said one afternoon when Eli had gone out to check his snares. "Different from other white men I have known."