Chapter 8 - Blood on the White Trail
Thomas fell into the snow.
Cora ran toward him.
Silas grabbed her.
“Stay down!”
Gunfire tore through the trees.
Eli returned fire.
Marshal Cole crawled behind a fallen log.
Silas dragged Thomas into cover.
Blood spread across his coat.
“Thomas!”
Cora reached him.
The bullet had struck high in his shoulder.
Alive.
Silas pressed cloth against the wound.
“Can you ride?”
Thomas gritted his teeth.
“Try stopping me.”
Vale's riders approached from both sides.
Silas counted.
Nine.
Too many.
He looked at the slope behind them.
Avalanche country.
Dangerous.
Possibly useful.
“Cole.”
The marshal understood.
“No.”
“Got another idea?”
“No.”
“Then pray.”
Silas fired toward a snow-heavy cornice above the attackers.
Once.
Twice.
Eli understood and joined him.
The third shot cracked something deep inside the mountain.
A low rumble began.
Vale's men looked upward.
Snow moved.
“Ride!” Silas shouted.
Their group fled along the ridge.
Behind them, tons of snow crashed through the trees.
It didn't bury the gunmen completely, but it scattered them.
Enough.
They escaped.
Thomas weakened.
By evening, he could barely remain upright.
They found shelter at a small homestead belonging to an elderly widow named Martha Quinn.
She opened her door, saw the wounded men, newborn child, exhausted mother, and armed mountain man.
“You people bring trouble?”
Silas answered, “Yes.”
Martha sighed.
“At least you're honest. Get inside.”
She had been a midwife.
For Cora, seeing another woman nearly broke something inside her.
Martha examined Hope.
“Strong little thing.”
Then Cora.
“You shouldn't be traveling.”
“I noticed.”
Martha looked at Silas.
“You deliver this baby?”
Silas became intensely interested in the floor.
Cora smiled.
“He did.”
Martha laughed for nearly a minute.
Thomas recovered slowly.
During those quiet days, Cora confronted him again.
Not angrily this time.
Honestly.
“Do you still love me?”
Thomas looked stunned.
“Yes.”
“Do you love me enough to tell me the truth even when the truth makes you look terrible?”
He hesitated.
Then nodded.
“There is one more thing.”
Cora's stomach tightened.
Thomas told her the ranch had not been lost because of cattle.
He had sold it.
“Why?”
“To repay families harmed by the records I falsified.”
Cora stared.
“You gave away our home?”
“Yes.”
Without asking her.
“Yes.”
She stood.
Thomas expected anger.
Instead, Cora cried.
“You keep making noble choices with things that belong to both of us.”
“I know.”
“You don't get to save your soul by deciding my life.”
Thomas lowered his head.
“I know.”
Cora wiped her eyes.
“I don't need a hero, Thomas. I need a husband.”
Those words changed him more than any bullet.
Outside, Silas heard part of the conversation.
He walked toward the barn.
Martha followed.
“You love that woman.”
Silas nearly choked.
“You old women always say whatever enters your head?”
“At my age, time's too short for editing.”
“She's married.”
“I can see.”
“Then there's nothing else to discuss.”
Martha studied him.
“Maybe not.”
That evening, riders approached.
Everyone prepared for Vale's men.
Instead, three soldiers arrived.
Fort Ellis scouts.
Relief swept through the house.
Marshal Cole showed his badge.
They would escort them.
The nightmare was almost finished.
Then one soldier removed his hat.
Cora recognized him.
She had seen him once before.
At Gideon Vale's saloon.
Her blood turned cold.
The soldier smiled.
“Mrs. Whitfield.”
Silas reached for his rifle.
Too late.
The other two soldiers drew weapons.
Vale had not merely infiltrated Helena.
He had men inside the army.
May you like
And this time, there was nowhere left to run.
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