Chapter 2 - Three Breaths by the Fire
For three days, the woman drifted between sleep and fever.
Elias learned the rhythms of the twins before he learned their names.
The louder baby woke first.
The quieter one followed.
When one cried, Elias discovered that walking slowly around the cabin helped.
When both cried, nothing helped.
He warmed goat’s milk from the small herd he kept behind the cabin, watered it carefully, and fed them drop by drop the way an old midwife had once shown his mother decades earlier.
He slept almost none.
Strangely, he didn’t mind.
Every few hours he checked the woman.
Sometimes she murmured.
Once she screamed.
Elias reached her bedside expecting to find her awake.
She wasn’t.
“No,” she whispered through fever.
“Please.”
Elias stood there helplessly.
“No more.”
Her hands tightened around the blanket.
“My daughters didn’t do anything.”
Elias felt something cold settle inside him that had nothing to do with winter.
He had seen cruelty.
He had participated in violence when survival demanded it.
But punishing a woman because of her children?
That belonged to another kind of darkness.
On the fourth morning she woke fully.
Sunlight reflected from the snow outside and filled the cabin with pale gold.
Elias sat in his chair cleaning his rifle.
The weapon had remained across his knees the first morning she woke because he had not known whether she was dangerous, hunted, or both. The source account likewise places him by the fire when she finally regained awareness and immediately asked after her daughters.
This time, he placed the rifle aside.
“You’re awake.”
She looked toward the twins.
They were sleeping together near the stove.
Her shoulders relaxed.
“Where am I?”
“Vance Mountain.”
Her eyes snapped toward him.
“Your name is Vance?”
“Elias Vance.”
Something about the name surprised her.
“You live here alone?”
“Usually.”
For the first time, something almost like humor appeared in her expression.
“I imagine we’ve ruined that.”
Elias looked at the twins.
The louder one had somehow escaped half her blanket.
“Yes.”
The woman waited.
Then Elias added, “I’ve survived.”
A tiny smile appeared.
It disappeared quickly.
“My name is Clara Hale.”
Elias nodded.
“Those?”
Clara looked toward her daughters.
“Rose and Ruth.”
“Which is which?”
She pointed.
“Rose is the one who behaves like the world owes her something.”
Elias looked toward the louder twin.
“That one?”
“Yes.”
“And Ruth?”
“Ruth waits for Rose to start trouble.”
Elias almost smiled.
Clara noticed.
For a moment they were simply two exhausted people sitting beside a fire while two babies slept.
Then reality returned.
Elias leaned back.
“What happened?”
Clara lowered her eyes.
“You don’t want to know.”
“I carried you two miles through a blizzard.”
She met his gaze.
“I think that bought me the right to ask.”
Silence.
Finally she said, “My husband died eight months ago.”
Elias waited.
“Thomas Hale. He worked the accounts for Gideon Rusk.”
Elias’s expression changed.
That name he knew.
Gideon Rusk owned nearly everything in Red Hollow.
The mill.
The freight office.
Half the cattle.
Most importantly, he owned the debts of almost everyone who lived there.
“He was good with numbers,” Clara continued. “Too good.”
“What did he find?”
“I don’t know everything.”
“You know something.”
Clara looked toward the babies.
“Thomas came home frightened three nights before he died.”
“How?”
“They said his horse slipped near Blackstone Ridge.”
“You don’t believe that.”
“No.”
Her voice was immediate.
Certain.
“He told me if anything happened, I should leave Red Hollow.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I was pregnant.”
She swallowed.
“Seven months. I had nowhere to go.”
Elias understood that better than she knew.
“So you stayed.”
“Gideon’s men began asking whether Thomas left papers.”
“Did he?”
“I told them no.”
Elias studied her.
“That answer sounds practiced.”
Clara said nothing.
“Did he?”
Her eyes hardened.
“I don’t know where they are.”
That was not the same answer.
Elias noticed.
He did not press.
“What happened after the twins were born?”
Clara’s face changed completely.
“In Red Hollow, people were already afraid of me. Gideon’s pastor told the congregation Thomas had been punished for dishonesty.”
Elias’s jaw tightened.
“And when Rose and Ruth were born?”
“They called them proof.”
“Proof of what?”
“My supposed shame.”
Elias stared at her.
“That makes no sense.”
“No.”
Clara’s laugh was bitter.
“But lies don’t need to make sense when powerful men repeat them loudly enough.”
She explained.
Gideon Rusk claimed Thomas had stolen company money before his death.
Then he claimed Clara had helped.
The townspeople who owed Gideon money stayed silent.
After the twins were born, Gideon’s allies spread whispers that Clara had brought misfortune to Red Hollow.
Two girls.
No sons.
No husband.
No protection.
Perfect targets.
“They dragged me into the square,” Clara said.
Elias’s hands curled.
“They said I would confess where Thomas hid what he stole.”
“Did he steal anything?”
“Never.”
“And when you didn’t confess?”
Clara looked away.
Elias understood.
“They left you outside town?”
She nodded.
“With newborn babies?”
Another nod.
“Who?”
Clara hesitated.
Then said the name.
“Sheriff Amos Pike.”
Elias stood so suddenly his chair scraped against the floor.
Clara flinched.
He saw it.
Immediately, he forced himself to become still.
“I’m not angry with you.”
“I know.”
But she had still flinched.
That bothered him more than her answer.
Elias walked toward the window.
Far below, the mountain road disappeared into the forest.
“Pike works for Rusk.”
“Everyone works for Rusk.”
“Not everyone.”
Clara looked at him.
“You?”
“No.”
“You think that makes you safe?”
Elias turned.
“No.”
Clara stared at him for a long moment.
Then Rose began crying.
Elias crossed the room automatically and picked her up.
Clara watched him.
The sight was ridiculous.
A six-foot-two mountain man with a beard full of frost, gently rocking an infant wrapped in pink wool.
Rose stopped crying.
Clara’s eyes filled again.
“What?”
Elias asked.
She shook her head.
“Thomas never got to hold them.”
Elias looked down at Rose.
“I’m sorry.”
Clara covered her face.
Not dramatically.
Quietly.
As though she had trained herself to grieve without inconveniencing anyone.
That angered Elias too.
Later that afternoon, Clara managed to stand.
He helped her walk to the window.
Outside, snowfall had stopped.
The valley looked peaceful.
For the first time in days, the sky was clear.
Clara touched the glass.
“They’ll search once the storm passes.”
“They won’t find this cabin easily.”
“Gideon owns men who know these mountains.”
“So do I.”
She looked at him.
“You still don’t understand.”
“Then explain.”
Clara hesitated.
“Thomas didn’t steal from Gideon.”
Elias waited.
“He stole something far more dangerous.”
“What?”
Clara glanced toward Rose and Ruth.
Then lowered her voice.
“Proof.”
Elias felt the room become very quiet.
“Proof of what?”
Clara looked directly into his eyes.
May you like
“That Gideon Rusk doesn’t own Red Hollow.”
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