Harlan’s spoon stopped.
Outside, the wind screamed along the roofline.
He set the spoon down.
“I didn’t.”
“My father received twenty dollars and two horses.”
“Yes.”
“That sounds like buying.”
“It does.”
“Then what would you call it?”
Harlan leaned back.
“A mistake I didn’t have time to explain.”
Josephine laughed bitterly.
“Convenient.”
“It isn’t meant to be.”
“I woke this morning in St. Louis, and by noon my father had traded me to a stranger.”
“He didn’t trade you.”
“He took payment.”
“I paid a debt.”
“What debt?”
Harlan looked toward the drying wedding dress.
Josephine followed his gaze.
Again.
The hem.
Her heartbeat changed.
“Harlan.”
He said nothing.
Josephine stood.
The buffalo robe slipped slightly from one shoulder.
Harlan immediately looked away.
She pulled it closed.
“You know something about this dress.”
He exhaled slowly.
“Yes.”
The admission landed like a weight.
Josephine stepped closer.
“What?”
Harlan’s eyes returned to hers.
“Your mother owned it.”
Josephine froze.
“My cousin owned this.”
“No.”
“My aunt said—”
“Your aunt lied.”
Josephine’s mouth went dry.
Harlan rose.
Even several feet away, his height made her feel tiny despite her own broad frame.
He moved toward the drying rack.
“That dress belonged to your mother before she married your father.”
Josephine stared.
“How could you possibly know that?”
Harlan touched the sleeve.
“Because I saw her wearing it once.”
Josephine’s breath stopped.
“You knew my mother?”
Before Harlan could answer, a sound came through the storm.
Distant.
Muffled.
Josephine turned toward the window.
Harlan did not.
He had heard it first.
Hoofbeats.
One.
Two.
Then several.
Approaching through deep snow.
Harlan crossed the room in three strides and extinguished the lantern.
The cabin darkened except for firelight.
Josephine’s fear returned instantly.
“What is it?”
Harlan lifted the rifle.
“Get away from the window.”
The softness disappeared from his voice.
Josephine moved.
Harlan stepped toward the front door.
The hoofbeats grew louder.
At least three horses.
Maybe four.
They stopped outside.
Josephine heard men shouting over the wind.
“Harlan Creek!”
Harlan’s face became stone.
A fist struck the door.
“Harlan!”
Josephine whispered, “Who are they?”
He looked at her.
“The reason I married you today.”
Every ounce of warmth seemed to vanish from the cabin.
Another blow hit the door.
“We know she’s in there!”
Josephine felt her knees weaken.
“Who?”
Harlan moved closer.
“Listen carefully.”
A third knock shook the hinges.
“You stay behind the stone hearth.”
“What do they want?”
Harlan’s gaze dropped toward the wedding dress.
Josephine understood.