She extinguished one lamp.
Only the stove remained bright.
The wounded visitor stayed low beside the storage-room wall.
The rider outside struck the door again.
Then cursed.
A moment later, something slammed against the shutters.
The woman flinched.
The mountain man raised his rifle.
But he did not fire.
Not without identifying a threat.
Another impact struck the shutters.
Then came the sound of breaking glass.
The riders were trying to frighten them into opening the door.
One shouted, "Last chance!"
The mountain man answered at last.
"Leave the property."
The man outside laughed.
"There's the wolf!"
The mountain man's voice remained steady.
"You have no business here."
"Oh, we have business."
A pause.
Then the rider continued.
"Seven years' worth."
The woman glanced toward the wounded visitor.
His face had gone pale.
He whispered, "They're buying time."
She frowned.
"For what?"
The visitor stared toward the rear of the cabin.
"Another man."
Her stomach tightened.
There were three.
The mountain man heard.
He looked toward the back door.
Then toward his wife.
"Stay here."
She nodded.
But she was already thinking.
The side passage.
The woodpile.
The narrow path to the barn.
If another man approached from behind, the cabin could be surrounded.
She knew the mountain man could fight.
She also knew fighting three armed men inside a wooden house was not a plan.
It was a gamble.
Then she remembered something.
The bell.
William kept a large iron bell beside the barn for calling the hired hands during harvest work.
The sound carried across the valley.
On a clear day, the nearest neighbor could hear it.
During the storm, perhaps not.
But there was a chance.
She leaned toward her husband.
"The barn bell."
He looked at her.
"What?"
"If someone pulls the line from the rear porch, it'll ring."
He stared.
Then understood.
The bell's rope ran through an opening near the stable wall.
A second line had been brought under the porch roof so William could ring it without crossing the yard during storms.
He nodded.
"Good thinking."
He began moving toward the back.
Then stopped.
A floorboard creaked beneath the rear door.
Someone was outside.
Very close.
The mountain man raised his hand.
Everyone froze.
The latch shifted.
Slowly.
Once.
Then again.
The hidden rider was trying to open it.
The mountain man moved toward the frame.