Both wore heavy coats.
One carried a long gun in a saddle scabbard.
The other held his horse with one hand while raising the other in a gesture that might have been friendly.
Gideon turned Copper sideways.
Lydia remained behind him.
The taller rider called again.
"Evening, Hayes."
Gideon's expression darkened.
"Evening, Crowe."
Lydia looked toward the stranger.
His face was narrow, with a sharp nose and small pale eyes. A dark beard covered his jaw, and a faded black hat sat low over his forehead.
He smiled when he saw Lydia.
"Well. Looks like congratulations are in order."
Gideon did not smile.
"What do you want?"
The man shifted in his saddle.
"Just passing through."
"On Elias's old trail?"
Crowe glanced toward the abandoned cabin.
"Didn't know it belonged to anybody."
Gideon looked at the second rider.
"Who sent you?"
Crowe laughed.
"You're a suspicious man."
"Answer the question."
The smile faded slightly.
Then Crowe looked toward Lydia.
"Mrs. Hayes, I presume?"
Lydia felt cold.
She had told no one beyond the settlement and the marriage agency about the ceremony.
The stranger seemed to understand her discomfort.
"Small places, ma'am. News travels."
Gideon's voice hardened.
"Ride on."
Crowe looked toward his coat.
"Find anything interesting up there?"
Gideon remained still.
"Old cabin."
"That's not what I asked."
"That's the answer you're getting."
The second rider shifted impatiently.
Crowe glanced toward him.
Then looked back at Gideon.
"Mr. Rusk would like a word with you when the weather permits."
Gideon's eyes narrowed.
"Tell Rusk he knows where to find me."
Crowe smiled again.
"Oh, he does."
His gaze moved toward Lydia.
"Seems he knows quite a bit about your new wife too."
Lydia felt Gideon's posture change.
The mountain man remained calm, but his shoulders stiffened.
Crowe lifted his reins.
"Safe journey."
The two riders moved aside.
Gideon waited until they disappeared around the bend.
Then he turned toward Lydia.
"We're moving."
She nodded.
They continued down the trail.
Only after the horses had carried them several miles did Lydia dare speak.
"Who was he?"
Gideon looked ahead.
"Harris Crowe."
"Does he work for Rusk?"
"Most days."
"What does he do?"
Gideon was silent for a moment.
Then he answered.
"Whatever Rusk doesn't want his own name attached to."
They reached the cabin after dark.
The valley was quiet.
Snow lay thick across the roof.
A narrow stream of smoke still rose from the chimney where Gideon had banked the stove before leaving.
He dismounted first.
Then helped Lydia down.
Her legs were stiff.
Her back ached.
And the fear of being followed had left her exhausted.
When her boots touched the ground, she swayed.
Gideon steadied her.