She laughed.
Harlon smiled.
Then pointed toward the map.
“We need to know more than where the papers are. We need a way out if Vale's men are watching the house.”
Amily looked toward the old survey lines.
For the next two hours, they studied the valley together.
And for the first time, Harlon began to understand that he hadn't merely rescued a frightened woman from a blizzard.
He had found someone whose courage was different from his own.
He knew how to survive the mountains.
She knew how to endure being underestimated.
And together, they might be able to confront a man who had spent years relying on people believing that wealth and authority were the same thing as truth.
The storm eased shortly after midnight.
But the danger returned before dawn.
Harlon woke to a faint noise outside the cabin.
Not the wind.
Not a branch.
A horse.
He opened his eyes.
Listened.
Then quietly reached for his boots.
Amily was sleeping in the bedroom.
He didn't want to frighten her unnecessarily.
He put on his coat, checked the repaired door, and moved toward the eastern window.
Beyond the glass, snow covered the yard.
The pines stood motionless beneath a pale moon.
Then something moved near the woodpile.
Harlon's expression hardened.
He took the lantern from its hook but left it unlit.
Then he stepped onto the porch.
The cold struck his face.
He listened.
A low groan came from behind the stacked logs.
Harlon stopped.
“Come out.”
No answer.
He moved closer.
Then discovered a young man collapsed in the snow.
He couldn't have been older than nineteen.
His face was pale.
One boot was missing.
His clothing was soaked, and he was shaking violently.
Harlon recognized him immediately.
Felix.
One of the three riders who had threatened the cabin.
For a moment, anger surged through him.
The boy had helped chase Amily through a blizzard.
He'd stood beside Gideon Pike while the older man threatened her.
And now he'd returned to the property.
Harlon crouched.
“Where are the others?”
Felix opened his eyes.
He tried to speak.
Only a weak rasp emerged.
Harlon examined him quickly.
The young man was dangerously cold.
His fingers were stiff.
His breathing was shallow.
Whatever Felix had come to do, he wasn't in any condition to threaten anyone.