And neither knew that someone had been watching the cabin from the ridge above.
The first warning came from Fern.
She lifted her head sharply and stared toward the door.
A low sound rose in her throat.
Gideon stopped speaking.
Lydia felt his arms tighten slightly, then release.
He turned toward the window.
Flint was already standing beside it, his thick gray fur raised along his shoulders.
"What is it?" Lydia whispered.
Gideon held one finger to his lips.
He moved quietly toward the wall.
The window was narrow, its glass cloudy with frost.
Beyond it, the trees stood dark against the fading snow.
For several seconds, Gideon saw nothing.
Then a movement caught his eye.
A horse.
Partly concealed behind the pines on the ridge.
And beside it, a man wearing a dark coat.
Gideon's jaw tightened.
He stepped away from the window.
"Someone's watching."
Lydia felt her stomach drop.
"Who?"
"I don't know."
"Could it be a traveler?"
"Could be."
But his voice suggested he did not believe it.
Gideon looked toward the journal.
Then toward the door.
"We're leaving."
Lydia nodded.
She gathered the folded map while Gideon carefully wrapped Elias's journal in oilcloth.
He tucked it inside his coat.
Then opened the cabin door just enough to examine the clearing.
No one stood nearby.
The horses were still tied beneath the trees.
He looked back.
"Lydia, stay behind me until we reach the horses."
She swallowed.
"All right."
They stepped outside.
The cold struck immediately.
Snow crunched beneath their boots.
Flint moved ahead.
Fern stayed close to Lydia.
As they approached the horses, Gideon glanced toward the ridge.
The figure had disappeared.
He helped Lydia into June's saddle.
Then swung onto Copper.
"We'll take the creek trail."
"Isn't that longer?"
"A little."
"Why?"
He looked toward the tree line.
"More cover."
Lydia did not ask another question.
They began descending.
The path was narrow, twisting between boulders and fallen pines.
Snow hung heavy on the branches.
As the sun sank, the shadows deepened.
Lydia kept June close behind Copper.
She could hear the horses breathing.
The soft jingling of tack.
The dogs moving through the brush.
Then, somewhere above them, a branch snapped.
Gideon turned in the saddle.
He listened.
Another sound followed.
A distant hoofbeat.
Lydia felt the fear rise again.
"Are they following us?"
Gideon glanced toward her.
"Keep June steady."
"Gideon—"
"We'll be all right if we don't rush."
His voice remained controlled.
But she noticed that he was scanning the trees more carefully now.
A few minutes later, a man's voice called from behind them.
"Hayes!"
Gideon stopped.
Lydia looked back.
Two riders had emerged at the upper bend.