William carried her toward the fire.
I fetched a blanket.
Then poured warm broth into a small bowl.
The girl sat on his lap, refusing to release his shirt.
I brought the bowl over.
"Here you are."
She stared.
"More chicken?"
I smiled.
"There's broth and dumplings left."
Her eyes filled again.
"Can I have some?"
"Of course."
She began eating carefully.
Small spoonfuls.
Slow.
As though she expected someone to take the bowl away.
William watched every movement.
I sat opposite them.
The intruder remained on the floor near the table.
He had grown quiet.
For the moment, he was no longer the center of anyone's attention.
The little girl finished half her bowl.
Then looked toward me.
"You're Papa's wife?"
I felt my chest tighten.
"Yes."
She glanced toward William.
Then back at me.
"Are you going to be angry because I came?"
I swallowed.
"No."
She studied my face.
"But you're his wife."
"Yes."
"And my mama—"
Her voice broke.
William looked down.
The girl stared at him.
"Papa, Mama said you wouldn't want me anymore."
William froze.
I looked toward him.
He gently touched her cheek.
"Annie, that's not true."
She began crying.
"She said you married someone else."
He closed his eyes.
Then opened them.
"Because I thought you and your mother were gone."
The girl stared.
"Gone?"
He swallowed.
"I was told you died."
She shook her head.
"No."
"I know that now."
She looked toward me.
Then whispered, "Mama lied."
The words settled over the room.
Outside, snow brushed against the windows.
The stove crackled.
The intruder shifted on the floor.
William looked toward him.
The man's face had become hard.
Then the child spoke again.
And what she said changed everything.
"Papa, Mama said she had to hide me because you found the gold."
William's expression became completely still.
I looked at him.
"Gold?"
He did not answer.
The little girl continued.
"She said the men would kill us if you remembered where you buried it."
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then the intruder began laughing.
Not loudly.
Not happily.
A bitter, exhausted laugh.
William slowly stood, keeping the child close.
He looked toward the man.
"What gold?"
The intruder smiled.
"You really don't remember."
William stared.
The man laughed again.
"Seven years, Wolf."
He shook his head.
"Seven years you've been living on top of a fortune."
I felt the blood drain from my face.
William looked toward the floorboards.
Then toward the old chimney wall.
And for the first time, I saw something in his expression that frightened me more than the revolver.