“There's no kidnapping.”
“Then you won't mind answering a few questions at the station.”
Harlan hesitated.
The other men shifted uneasily. One moved toward the steps, then stopped when Mercer turned his head.
“Don't,” the deputy warned.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Harlan gave a bitter laugh. “You don't know who you're crossing.”
Mercer shrugged off the threat. “I've heard that before.”
He gestured toward the men on the porch. “Weapons down. Now.”
One by one, the men lowered their guns.
Harlan remained still, his face reddening beneath the brim of his hat. He looked from Mercer to the cabin door, then toward the trail. The storm had not weakened, and the snow was deep enough to make a quick escape difficult.
At last, he placed his revolver on the porch boards.
Mercer approached and collected it.
“Now,” he said, “we're going to settle this properly.”
Calder lowered his rifle slightly but did not set it aside. He looked toward Naya.
“Do you want to stay inside?”
She nodded.
“Then stay here. I'll speak to the deputy.”
He moved to the door, opened it only a narrow distance, and stepped onto the porch. Cold air rushed into the cabin, carrying snowflakes and the sharp scent of pine. Naya remained where she was, watching through the gap.
Mercer spoke quietly to Calder, then turned toward the men. Harlan argued, gesturing toward the cabin, but the deputy interrupted him.
Naya could not hear every word. She did not need to. The posture of the men had changed. They were no longer standing as though they owned the clearing. They were being questioned, watched, and made to account for themselves.
Calder returned after several minutes, closing the door firmly behind him.
“The deputy wants to take statements,” he said. “He'll escort them to town once the trail is passable.”
“Will they come back?”
“Not today.”
“Tomorrow?”
“I don't know.”
Naya lowered her eyes.
Calder set the rifle back on the table. “But now there's a record of what happened. Mercer heard you say you were taken. He'll report it to the sheriff.”
“What if the sheriff believes them?”
“Then we'll tell him the truth again.”
She studied his face. “You make it sound simple.”
“It isn't.”
“Then why do you say it like that?”