“Gideon.”
The boy swallowed.
“My father.”
Thomas looked up.
“What did you say?”
“My father.”
The cabin disappeared from Thomas’s face.
For a moment he looked nowhere.
Martha understood before he did.
The boy was not merely carrying a photograph.
He was bringing a past Thomas had buried.
“What is your name?” Thomas asked.
“Eli Vale.”
Thomas’s hand tightened around the photograph.
“Vale.”
“Yes.”
“How old are you?”
“Sixteen.”
Thomas’s eyes closed.
Martha calculated.
Sixteen years.
Long enough for a brother to build an entire life without Thomas knowing.
Eli dug inside the pouch again and produced a folded letter.
“Father said if anything happened, I was supposed to find you.”
Thomas took it.
The paper was stained.
One corner had dried blood on it.
His eyes moved across the first line.
Martha saw his face darken.
“What?”
Thomas did not answer.
She stepped closer.
He handed her the letter.
The writing was hurried.
Thomas,
If Eli reaches you, I have either failed or run out of time. He is my son. Whatever you believe about me, do not make him pay for it. Keep him alive. And whatever you do, do not trust the men from Covenant Creek.
The letter continued, but Martha never reached the second paragraph.
Because Thomas had turned toward the window.
“What is it?”
He blew out the nearest lantern.
The cabin darkened.
“Thomas?”
“Kill the stove light.”
“The stove?”
“Bank it.”
His voice left no room for argument.
Martha covered the front grate and lowered the damper while Thomas crossed toward the rear window.
Eli tried standing.
His legs buckled.
Martha caught him.
“Stay down.”
“They followed me.”
Thomas turned.
“How many?”
“I don't know.”
“How long?”
“Since the river crossing.”
“You saw them?”
“Lanterns.”
Thomas looked through the crack in the curtain.
Martha came beside him.
At first she saw only snow.
Then one amber point appeared between the trees.
Another.
A third.
Lanterns.
Moving slowly up the trail.
Toward the cabin.
Thomas reached for his rifle.
Eli whispered:
“They killed my father.”
Thomas stopped.
The boy’s face crumpled for the first time.
“I saw him fall.”
Martha closed her eyes briefly.
Thomas asked quietly:
“Where?”
“Mill road outside Covenant Creek.”
“Who?”
“I don't know their names.”
“You'll recognize faces?”
“Yes.”
“How long ago?”
“Three days.”
Martha stared.
“You've been traveling three days in this weather?”
Eli nodded.
Thomas looked at the boy as though something inside him wanted to break but did not know how.
He turned toward Martha.
“Cellar.”
“No.”
“Martha.”
“What about you?”
“I stay.”
“Then I stay.”
His eyes hardened.
“You are not doing this tonight.”
“Neither are you.”