Clara breathed out. He made it. For now. The porch fire was spreading. Smoke crawled beneath the front door.
Ethan looked toward the kitchen. We can't stay inside. Clara nodded toward the root cellar. There's another way. Ethan stared at her.
What? Your mother showed me when we were children. He almost laughed. You know more about this ranch than I do. Apparently.
They moved quickly. Ethan lifted the cellar hatch. Cold earth and darkness waited below. Clara climbed down first. Ethan followed and pulled the hatch closed.
The cellar smelled of potatoes, dirt, and old wood. A narrow tunnel ran beneath the house toward the back garden. Ethan had forgotten it existed. His father once used it during winter storms. They crawled through it on hands and knees.
Above them, gunshots continued. Then came the heavy crash of the front door breaking. Clara froze. They're inside. Ethan whispered.
Keep moving. They reached the end. Ethan pushed aside a loose board and looked out. The garden was empty. Beyond it, horses stood near the fence.
The attackers had left two men outside. Ethan waited. One walked toward the barn. The other watched the house. Clara leaned close.
If we can reach the cottonwoods, they'll lose sight of us. Ethan looked at her. The cottonwoods. Again. After 17 years, everything seemed to be dragging them back to that place.
They crawled out. Ethan went first. Clara followed. They moved low through the garden, crossed behind the chicken shed, then ran toward the trees. A shout came behind them.
There! A bullet struck the dirt near Clara's boot. Ethan turned and fired. The rider ducked. Run!
They reached the trees. Branches cut across Ethan's coat. Clara stumbled once, but kept moving. Then suddenly they were there. The old cottonwoods.
The same place where two young people had once believed their whole lives were ahead of them. Clara pressed against a tree, breathing hard. Ethan stood beside her. For 1 second, neither spoke. Then Clara looked around.
I waited right there. Ethan followed her gaze. Beneath the largest tree. I know. You do?
I came back years later. Her eyes lifted. When? The first week I returned from Montana. The danger around them seemed to disappear for half a heartbeat.
I sat there until sunrise, Ethan said, wondering what I had done wrong. Clara's eyes filled. You did nothing wrong. Hooves sounded nearby. Ethan raised his rifle.