Chapter 9 - Snowfall Over Kenosha Pass
Rowan motioned toward the rear windows.
Eliza shook her head.
Second floor height.
Stone courtyard below.
Another sound came from the hallway.
A match struck.
Someone was lighting a lamp.
“Creed.”
The voice belonged to Silas Vane.
“No sense making this difficult.”
Rowan leaned close to Eliza.
“Can you climb?”
“Depends.”
“On?”
“How badly we don't want to meet him.”
Despite danger, Rowan smiled.
“Very badly.”
“Then yes.”
The conservatory roof sloped beneath the rear windows.
Rowan opened one carefully.
Cold night air entered.
Eliza pushed the ledger inside her blouse beneath her shawl.
Rowan climbed out first.
Then helped her.
Pain tore through her ribs.
She bit down on a cry.
Inside, the conservatory door opened.
“Window!”
Rowan and Eliza moved.
They crossed the glass roof as boots entered behind them.
A shot cracked.
Glass shattered.
Eliza ducked.
Rowan dragged her behind a chimney.
“No shooting back?”
“Not unless necessary.”
“You're becoming civilized.”
“Terrible development.”
They reached the neighboring roof.
Another shot.
Then voices from the street.
People opening windows.
Silas's men stopped firing.
Rowan led Eliza down a rain barrel and fence into an alley.
They ran.
Or Rowan ran.
Eliza managed something between limping and falling.
They reached the rented horses.
Within minutes Denver disappeared behind them.
But the road west would be dangerous.
Caleb would anticipate it.
So Rowan turned south first.
They slept three hours inside an abandoned barn.
At dawn Eliza opened the ledger.
“We need copies.”
“Yes.”
“If they take this, everything disappears again.”
“Yes.”
“Denver newspaper?”
“Too risky.”
“A lawyer?”
“Which one?”
She understood.
The ledger named a judge and sheriff.
Anyone might be involved.
Then she remembered a name in her father's letter.
Nathaniel Price.
“You said Father's lawyer disappeared.”
“Yes.”
“What if he didn't?”
Rowan looked at her.
“I searched.”
“Eight years ago.”
He understood immediately.
“Maybe he ran.”
“Would you?”
Rowan glanced at the ledger.
“Yes.”
They examined the letters.
One mentioned Price's sister.
Eleanor Finch, Colorado Springs.
They rode south.
Eleanor still lived there.
Older now.
Suspicious.
When Eliza introduced herself as Thomas Mercer's daughter, Eleanor nearly closed the door.
Then Eliza showed the locket.
The woman's expression broke.
“My God.”
“You knew my father?”
“I knew what happened to my brother.”
“Nathaniel is alive?”
Eleanor looked down the street.
“Come inside.”
Price had survived.
He had fled Colorado after someone shot through his office window.
For eight years he lived under another name in New Mexico.
“Can you contact him?”
Eleanor hesitated.
“He made me promise.”
Eliza placed the ledger on the table.
“My father died because he trusted Nathaniel.”
Eleanor stiffened.
“That is unfair.”
“Yes.”
Eliza surprised herself.
“But so is everything that happened after.”
She told Eleanor about Caleb.
The ravine.
Her mother.
Rowan.
The ledger.
When she finished, Eleanor stared at the black book.
“I'll telegraph him.”
“To where?”
“You don't need to know.”
“Fair.”
Eleanor smiled faintly.
“He may come.”
“We need more than may.”
“He has a family now.”
Eliza looked at the ledger.
“So did my father.”
The words felt harsh.
Necessary.
Eleanor nodded.
“I'll send it.”
They left before dark.
Snow began as they climbed west.
Unexpected.
Heavy.
Rowan wanted shelter.
Eliza wanted Fairplay.
“We need copies first.”
“We can make them in Colorado Springs.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“If someone intercepts a copy, Caleb learns who helped.”
“Then what?”
Eliza looked at the storm.
“My mother once said the safest secret is one too large to hide.”
Rowan studied her.
“You want to expose it publicly.”
“Yes.”
“Dangerous.”
“So is secrecy.”
Rowan smiled.
“Thomas said something similar.”
They headed north.
By the time they reached the lower slopes near Kenosha Pass, snow covered the trail.
Eliza's strength failed.
Rowan noticed.
“We stop.”
“No.”
“That's not a suggestion.”
“You don't own me.”
“No.”
He dismounted.
“But hypothermia doesn't care about independence.”
She glared.
Then laughed despite herself.
“All right.”
They found a line shack.
Inside, Rowan built a fire.
Eliza shook uncontrollably.
He wrapped her in blankets.
For a long time neither spoke.
Then Eliza asked:
“Why didn't you marry?”
Rowan nearly dropped the kettle.
“That came from nowhere.”
“Snow makes people conversational.”
“No, it doesn't.”
“You're avoiding.”
“Yes.”
She smiled.
“Why?”
Rowan stared into the fire.
“There was someone.”
“What happened?”
“She wanted a life in Denver.”
“You wanted mountains.”
“Yes.”
“That's all?”
“No.”
Eliza waited.
“I was angry then.”
Rowan's voice became distant.
“At myself. At Jonah. At the world. She said she couldn't spend her life waiting for me to forgive myself.”
“Did you?”
“Forgive myself?”
“Yes.”
Rowan looked at her.
“Working on it.”
Eliza's hand rested near his.
Not touching.
Close.
“I think Jonah would want you to.”
Rowan swallowed.
“And your father?”
“What?”
“Would he want you to forgive yourself?”
“For marrying Caleb?”
“For surviving him.”
Eliza stared into the fire.
She had never thought of survival as something requiring forgiveness.
Yet part of her carried shame.
For staying.
For believing apologies.
For returning after the first escape.
For loving Caleb once.
Yes.
She had loved him.
That was the most shameful truth.
“I don't know.”
“Then work on it.”
Their eyes met.
For one quiet second the storm disappeared.
Then horses sounded outside.
Rowan stood.
Too late.
A fist pounded on the door.
“Creed!”
Sheriff Matthew Vale.
One of the names inside the ledger.
Rowan looked at Eliza.
The sheriff shouted again.
“I have a warrant for the arrest of Rowan Creed for kidnapping Elizabeth Rourke.”
Eliza rose.
Another voice joined him.
Caleb.
“Elizabeth!”
She closed her eyes.
They had been hunted across Colorado.
May you like
And now the law itself had arrived to return her to the man who nearly killed her.
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