“She Was Beaten And Left To D!e, A Mountain Man Found Her And Found Her Knew Real Name
“He didn’t know who I was.”
“He didn’t know who I was.”
Rowan said nothing.
That silence gave her the answer.
Eliza pushed away from the table.
“He married me because of my father?”
“I don’t know.”
“You just said—”
“I said he worked for Vale. I don’t know why he married you.”
But Eliza knew.
Or thought she did.
Suddenly she remembered Caleb searching through her mother’s sewing trunk during their first month of marriage.
He had claimed he was looking for extra blankets.
She remembered him asking about her father’s papers.
About childhood hiding places.
About a locket Thomas had once given her.
At the time, she had thought those were ordinary questions.
A husband learning about his wife.
Now every memory had teeth.
Eliza covered her mouth.
“He used to ask me where Father kept important things.”
Rowan’s gaze sharpened.
“What did you tell him?”
“Nothing useful.”
“You sure?”
“He asked about bank boxes. Lockboxes. Floorboards.”
Rowan stood.
“Eliza, think carefully. Did your father ever give you something shortly before he died?”
“No.”
“A letter? A key?”
“No.”
“Anything that seemed meaningless?”
She turned toward him angrily.
“I was twenty-two years old and preparing to bury my father. Forgive me if I didn’t inventory every meaningless object.”
Rowan lowered his voice.
“You’re right.”
Eliza turned away.
Then froze.
A memory appeared.
Tiny.
Ridiculous.
Her father standing at the railway station three weeks before his death.
He had been leaving for Kansas City.
Before boarding, he handed her a blue-covered copy of The Pilgrim’s Progress.
She had laughed.
She already owned the book.
Thomas had smiled and said, “Then keep this one somewhere safer.”
Eliza whispered, “The book.”
Rowan stepped closer.
“What book?”
“My father gave me a book.”
“When?”
“Three weeks before he died.”
“Where is it?”
The answer nearly stopped her heart.
“My house.”
“With Hale?”
“Yes.”
Rowan cursed under his breath.
Eliza turned toward the door.
“I’m going back.”
“Absolutely not.”
“That book may be why my father died.”
“And the man who tried to beat you to death is sitting between you and it.”
“I don’t care.”
“You should.”
“You don’t understand.”
Rowan’s expression hardened.
“I understand exactly what dead family feels like.”
That stopped her.
Regret passed between them, uncomfortable and raw.
Then came a sound outside.
A horse.
Rowan moved instantly.
The change in him was terrifying.
One moment he was a tired man beside a fire.
The next, the rifle was in his hands.
He extinguished the lamp.
“Eliza, behind the stove.”
“What—”
“Now.”
The knock came three seconds later.
Three heavy blows.
“Creed!”
A man’s voice.
Rowan looked through a slit in the shutter.
Eliza pressed herself behind the iron stove, knife in hand.
“Who is it?” she whispered.
Rowan’s jaw tightened.
“Sheriff Danner.”
Relief almost weakened her knees.
“Let him in.”
“No.”
“Rowan—”
“He works for Vale.”
The knock came again.
“Creed, open up! I’m looking for a missing woman.”
Eliza’s mouth went dry.
Rowan crossed to her.
“If he hears you, this becomes difficult.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Lie.”
He opened the door.
Snow swirled inside.
Sheriff Amos Danner was a broad, red-faced man in an expensive coat.
Two deputies stood behind him.
“Evening, Creed.”
“Sheriff.”
Danner glanced past Rowan into the cabin.
“Cold night.”
“Usually is in winter.”
“You alone?”
“Yes.”
Eliza could see only pieces of the sheriff through the stove.
Boots.
Coat hem.
One gloved hand.
Danner sighed.
“Man down in Fairplay says his wife ran away after stealing from him. He followed her tracks toward the pass.”
Eliza bit the inside of her cheek.
“Woman’s name?” Rowan asked.
“Eliza Hale.”
“Never heard of her.”
“She’s injured.”
“So he says.”
“Her husband is worried.”
Behind the stove, Eliza nearly laughed.
The sound would have been hysterical.
She covered her mouth.
Danner continued.
“Caleb says she’s confused. Dangerous when frightened.”
Rowan leaned against the doorframe.
“Dangerous?”
“Took a knife to him.”
Eliza looked at the knife in her hand.
Her hand began shaking.
It was almost impressive.
Caleb had beaten her nearly unconscious, robbed her, tied her wrists, dumped her in a ravine—and now she was the dangerous one.
Danner glanced down.
“What happened to your horse?”
“Nothing.”
“Blood on the saddle blanket.”
Eliza stopped breathing.
Rowan did not.
“Dressed an elk.”
“In November?”
“Animals don’t read calendars.”
One deputy snorted.
Danner did not smile.
“We can come inside?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s my house.”
The two men faced each other.
Eliza realized Rowan had no intention of surrendering her.
Not even to the law.
Especially not to the law.
Danner rested a hand near his revolver.
“You know, Creed, people in Fairplay tolerate you because you stay up here.”
“And I tolerate them because they stay down there.”
“Don’t get clever.”
“Too late.”
A long silence followed.
Then Danner smiled.
“If you see her, send word.”
“Sure.”
He turned away.
Then stopped.
“One more thing.”
Rowan waited.
“Caleb offered a hundred dollars to anyone who brings her home.”
Eliza felt sick.
Danner looked over his shoulder.
“A hundred fifty if she’s alive.”
Rowan’s voice became very quiet.
“What if she’s dead?”
“Fifty.”
The sheriff smiled.
“Waste not, I suppose.”
Rowan’s expression did not change.
But Eliza saw his hand tighten around the rifle.
The sheriff rode away moments later.
Rowan barred the door.
Eliza stepped from behind the stove.
Her face felt numb.
“He put a bounty on me.”
“Sounds like it.”
“For less if I’m dead.”
Rowan relit the lamp.
“He doesn’t care if you survive.”
Eliza laughed once.
A broken sound.
“No. Apparently not.”
She lowered herself carefully onto the chair.
Rowan poured whiskey into a tin cup.
She shook her head.
He drank it himself.
For a while, neither spoke.
Then Eliza said, “Take me to my house.”
“No.”
“Rowan.”
“No.”
“My father died protecting whatever is in that book.”
“And you’ll join him if you ride down there now.”
“Then help me.”
He looked at her.
“You said Thomas Mercer saved your life.”
Rowan’s expression closed.
“Yes.”
“Then help his daughter.”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing.”
“By hiding me?”
“By keeping you breathing.”
“That isn’t enough.”
“For today, it is.”
She hated him for being right.
Three days passed.
Then four.
Snow sealed the trail.
Eliza healed slowly.
Rowan proved to be a man who spoke little and noticed everything.
He never touched her without warning.
When he changed the bandage on her wrist, he explained each movement first.
When nightmares woke her, he did not ask questions.
He simply put another log on the fire and sat nearby until she stopped shaking.
On the fifth night, she woke screaming Caleb’s name.
Rowan was already awake.
He sat at the table cleaning his rifle.
Eliza covered her face.
“Sorry.”
“For what?”
“Waking you.”
“Wasn’t asleep.”
“You never sleep.”
“I do occasionally.”
“When?”
“Leap years.”
Despite herself, she smiled.
It hurt her split lip.
Rowan noticed the smile.
Something warmed briefly behind his eyes.
It vanished fast.
On the sixth day, Eliza found him splitting firewood outside.
Her body was stronger.
Her wrist still ached badly, but she could walk without seeing black around the edges of her vision.
She stood in the snow with a shawl wrapped around her.
“You’re teaching me to shoot.”
Rowan kept chopping.
“No.”
“You say no often.”
“You ask poor questions.”
“I didn’t ask.”
He buried the axe in a stump.
“You have one good hand.”
“One is enough.”
“For losing fingers, maybe.”
Eliza stared until he sighed.
Ten minutes later, Rowan placed a small revolver on the table.
“Colt 1877.”
Eliza picked it up awkwardly.
“Point away from me.”
“I know that.”
“You were pointing at my liver.”
“I wasn’t.”
“My liver disagrees.”
Over the next hour, he taught her how to grip it with one hand.
How to breathe.
How not to close her eyes before pulling the trigger.
Her first shot missed the tree entirely.
Her second struck snow.
Her third hit the trunk.
Eliza smiled.
Rowan looked at the hole.
“That tree had a family.”
She laughed.
A real laugh.
The sound surprised both of them.
For a moment, the mountain seemed less lonely.
That evening, while Rowan cooked beans, Eliza found another photograph tucked beside his Bible.
Anna.
She knew immediately.
