She pulled the door open.
Cold air struck her face.
She stumbled into the snow.
Behind her, the men shouted.
She heard the fire being stamped out.
Then footsteps.
She moved toward the barn.
Her heart pounded.
Her lungs burned.
But she kept going.
The barn door stood half open.
She slipped inside.
The horses shifted nervously.
She leaned against a wooden post, struggling to breathe.
Then heard the men approaching.
She looked around desperately.
A hayloft ladder.
A storage stall.
A small side door.
She moved toward the stall.
But before she could hide, a hand grabbed her arm.
She cried out.
The taller intruder yanked her backward.
"Enough!"
She twisted.
"Let go!"
He shoved her against the wooden partition.
Pain flashed through her shoulder.
The second man entered.
"Where's the chest?"
She shook her head.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
The taller man raised his hand.
Then stopped.
A voice came from the barn entrance.
Deep.
Cold.
Deadly calm.
"Take your hand off her."
The men froze.
The mountain man stood beneath the doorway.
Snow clung to his fur coat.
His pale eyes were fixed on the intruder gripping the woman's arm.
In one hand, he carried his rifle.
He did not raise it.
He did not need to.
The taller man slowly released her.
The mountain man's voice lowered.
"Step away."
The intruder hesitated.
Then moved backward.
The woman stared.
She had never been so relieved to see anyone in her life.
The second intruder shifted toward his revolver.
The mountain man's eyes moved.
"Don't."
The man froze.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then the mountain man spoke.
"Both of you. Outside."
The taller man attempted a smile.
"There's been a misunderstanding."
The mountain man stared.
"Then explain it to the sheriff."
The man's expression changed.
"We don't need—"
"Outside."
He stepped forward.
The intruders obeyed.
Minutes later, they were secured in the storage shed with their weapons removed.
The mountain man returned to the barn.
The young woman stood beside the partition.
Her body was trembling.
He stopped several feet away.
"Are you hurt?"
She shook her head.
Then nodded.
Then began crying.
He approached carefully.
"Where?"
"My shoulder."
He glanced toward her arm.
"Can you move it?"
She tried.
Winced.
He frowned.
"We'll get you checked."
She stared at him.
Then whispered, "You came back."
His expression changed.
"Of course."
"But you weren't supposed to."
He looked toward the broken doorway.
"I saw tracks near the upper trail."
She swallowed.
"How did you know?"