Caleb turned.
The expression on her face chilled him more than the winter outside.
He had seen men look like that before.
Men who heard their names called by someone they'd spent years trying to escape.
Clara's hand moved toward her throat.
"No."
The word was barely audible.
Caleb crossed the room in two strides.
"Who are they?"
She shook her head.
He touched her arm gently.
"Clara."
Her eyes filled.
Another blow hit the door.
"Last warning!"
Caleb looked toward the entrance.
Then back at her.
For three months, he had tried to send her away because he feared his enemies might use her against him.
Now strangers had arrived demanding her by name.
And the woman who had just confessed that she wanted him was staring toward the door as though the past itself had come to claim her.
Caleb lowered his voice.
"Tell me what I'm facing."
Clara opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
He could see her struggling.
Finally, she whispered, "I thought they wouldn't find me here."
Caleb felt something cold settle beneath his ribs.
"Who?"
She looked up.
Tears slipped down her cheeks.
"The men who killed my father."
For several seconds, Caleb couldn't speak.
Outside, the riders began arguing among themselves.
He could hear horses shifting against the wind, hooves striking frozen ground, and the hard metallic sound of someone adjusting equipment near the porch.
He counted at least three men.
Possibly four.
The cabin had one main entrance, two small windows along the northern wall, and a narrow back door leading toward the woodpile.
Beyond it, a steep trail descended toward the creek.
In ordinary weather, a person could follow that trail to the lower pasture.
In a blizzard, it was dangerous even for someone who knew every turn.
Caleb examined Clara's face.
"Are they armed?"
She swallowed.
"I don't know."
"How many were there before?"
"Three."
He nodded once.
Then asked, "Have they threatened you?"
Clara's eyes moved toward the door.
"They threatened my father."
Caleb took a breath.
He wanted answers.
A hundred of them.
But there wasn't time.
He moved toward the window, keeping himself away from its center.
Through a narrow clear patch near the frame, he could make out three horses beneath the trees.
Their riders stood close to the cabin.
One held a lantern.
Another wore a heavy black coat.
The third remained slightly behind the others, his face hidden beneath a hat.
Caleb recognized the man carrying the lantern.
Silas Crowe.
A former ranch hand who had been dismissed from three neighboring properties for stealing supplies and intimidating workers.
Crowe had also been one of the men who followed Clara behind the general store three nights earlier.
Caleb had driven him away then.
The man had promised revenge.
Now he had returned with companions.
Caleb understood that the earlier confrontation hadn't been an accident.
Those men weren't drunken fools who happened to find Clara walking alone.
They'd been searching for her.
He looked toward the mantel.
A hunting rifle rested above it.
A double-barreled shotgun stood inside a cabinet near the kitchen.