Chapter 2 - THE BLOOD ON CALEB’S COAT
Josie hit the floor on both knees.
“Caleb!”
His shoulder struck the table before the rest of him went down.
The lantern shook.
A tin cup rolled across the floorboards.
For one horrible second, Caleb lay completely still.
Josie grabbed his coat.
“Look at me.”
Nothing.
Her fingers trembled as she pressed them against his throat.
A pulse.
Weak.
Fast.
But there.
“Caleb.”
His eyelids moved.
“Josie?”
The sound of her name nearly broke her.
“I’m here.”
She pulled desperately at the buttons of his coat.
“Where are you hurt?”
“Don’t…”
“Don’t what?”
“Blood…”
“I can see the blood!”
Caleb caught her wrist.
Even half-conscious, his grip was strong.
“Not all mine.”
Josie froze.
“What?”
His eyes closed again.
“Lock the door.”
She stared at him.
“Caleb.”
“Lock it.”
Something in his voice made her obey.
Josie ran to the door, dropped the heavy wooden bar into place, then checked the shutters.
Wind scraped snow against the cabin walls.
Outside, darkness swallowed everything beyond the porch.
When she returned, Caleb had managed to roll onto his back.
The front of his coat was dark with blood.
Josie pulled it open.
There.
A long slash along his ribs.
Not deep enough to kill him immediately.
Deep enough to frighten her.
“What did this?”
“Knife.”
Her head snapped up.
“Knife?”
Caleb looked toward the rifle he had dropped near the door.
“Man.”
The cabin suddenly felt smaller.
“Who?”
He did not answer.
“Caleb, who?”
His jaw tightened.
“Ezekiel Voss.”
The name meant nothing to Josie.
His expression told her it should.
She fetched the basin, clean cloth, whiskey, needle and thread.
Caleb saw the needle.
“No.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“I can do it.”
“You can barely sit up.”
“I’ve stitched worse.”
“So have I.”
That was almost true.
In Chicago, Josie had once sewn a cut closed on another mill worker after a machine blade sliced her forearm and the factory owner refused to pay for a doctor.
Caleb studied her.
Then released the cloth.
“All right.”
Josie cut his shirt away.
The wound ran from beneath his left arm toward his stomach.
Her hands shook.
Caleb noticed.
“You don’t have to.”
She looked at him.
“Be quiet.”
Something almost like approval moved through his tired face.
She cleaned the wound.
Caleb did not cry out.
That frightened her too.
“Tell me what happened.”
“I found deer.”
“And?”
“Two already dead.”
She paused.
“Poachers?”
“Worse.”
Caleb’s breathing tightened when she pressed the cloth harder.
“Men were taking meat from my winter range.”
“Our winter range,” Josie corrected without thinking.
His eyes opened.
She felt heat rise in her face.
Caleb said nothing about it.
Instead he continued.
“Three men. Voss with them.”
“What did they want?”
“My north pass.”
She tied off the first stitch.
“What does that mean?”
“A trail through the Hayes property.”
“For what?”
“Freight.”
She looked at him.
“Legal freight?”
“No.”
That answered enough.
Caleb’s land sat between the lower valley and an old mountain route used before the territorial road had been completed.
Josie had seen the pass from a distance.
Narrow.
Dangerous.
Hidden.
Perfect for men who preferred not to be seen.
“I told them no.”
She almost laughed from disbelief.
“You walked into three armed men and told them no?”
“They were on my land.”
“Caleb.”
“What?”
“That is not an explanation normal people use.”
His mouth twitched.
It vanished when she reached another tender place.
“What happened next?”
“Voss said the mountain would bury us by February.”
Josie stopped sewing.
“Us?”
“He knows you’re here.”
Cold moved through her.
“How?”
“Everybody in Coldwater knows I married.”
“That does not mean they know me.”
“He knows enough.”
Caleb’s expression changed.
“He said Chicago made women soft.”
Josie tied another stitch.
“Then he has never met a textile foreman.”
That earned a weak breath of laughter.
She continued.
“Whose blood is on your coat?”
“One of his men.”
Her hands stopped.
“Did you kill him?”
“No.”
Caleb stared toward the ceiling.
“He came at me with a knife. I broke his nose. He bled on me.”
“That’s all?”
“Mostly.”
“Mostly?”
“Voss fired.”
Josie’s eyes widened.
“Where?”
“Missed.”
“You were shot at?”
“Yes.”
“And you still rode home?”
“I walked the last mile.”
“Why?”
“Horse went lame.”
Of course.
Josie closed her eyes.
“You impossible man.”
“Yes.”
She finished the final stitch.
Caleb watched her.
“You’re angry.”
“I am deciding whether to hit you.”
“Wait until morning.”
“I might.”
She wrapped his ribs.
Only when she was done did she notice the blood on her own hands.
Her knees started to shake.
Caleb saw.
“Josie.”
“I’m fine.”
“No.”
The same word he had used on their wedding night.
Firm.
But never cruel.
She looked at him.
He reached out slowly.
Not grabbing.
Offering.
Josie put her hand in his.
Caleb’s thumb brushed over her knuckles.
“I came back.”
Her eyes filled instantly.
“You almost didn’t.”
“But I did.”
“That isn’t good enough.”
His gaze sharpened.
“What?”
“You keep acting like surviving is the same as being careful.”
Caleb said nothing.
“You could have died.”
“Yes.”
“And I would have been here…”
She stopped.
Her throat closed.
Caleb waited.
She looked toward the fire.
“I would have been here waiting for someone who wasn’t coming.”
Something in his expression softened.
“Josie.”
“I hated you for leaving this morning.”
“You told me to hunt.”
“I know.”
“I didn’t want to go far.”
“I know.”
“I thought I’d be back before noon.”
“You weren’t.”
“No.”
She wiped at her face angrily.
“I kept thinking about that first night.”
Caleb went still.
“The wedding?”
“Yes.”
“How scared I was.”
His hand loosened around hers.
Josie continued before she lost courage.
“I thought marriage meant I had traded one kind of fear for another.”
His eyes dropped.
“But you gave me space.”
She swallowed.
“And now every time you walk out that door, I’m afraid of something completely different.”
He looked at her.
“What?”
“That you won’t come back.”
Caleb’s face changed.
Not triumph.
Not satisfaction.
Pain.
“Josie…”
A violent knock hit the cabin door.
Both of them froze.
Three strikes.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Caleb reached for his rifle.
Josie pushed him back.
“You can barely stand.”
Another knock.
Then a man’s voice carried through the storm.
“Hayes!”
Caleb’s jaw tightened.
Voss.
Josie looked at him.
“You said he was miles away.”
“He was.”
The knock came again.
“Hayes! I know you’re in there!”
Caleb stood despite her protest.
Blood immediately soaked through the fresh bandage.
Josie grabbed his arm.
“You’ll open that wound.”
“If he came here, he wants something.”
“What?”
Voss answered through the door as if he had heard her.
“I want my man.”
Caleb’s face went still.
Josie whispered, “What man?”
A groan came from outside.
Weak.
Human.
Caleb crossed to the shutter and opened it a fraction.
Then swore.
“What?”
Josie looked.
A body lay in the snow twenty feet from the porch.
The man Caleb had fought.
Hands tied.
Blood frozen across his face.
Voss’s voice came from the darkness.
“He says you’ve got something that belongs to me.”
Caleb shouted through the door.
“I’ve got nothing of yours.”
The answer came.
“You’ve got land.”
Silence.
Then Voss laughed.
“And now you’ve got a wife.”
Josie felt Caleb change beside her.
The wounded man became something else.
Cold.
Dangerous.
But when his hand reached backward, it did not reach for a weapon.
It reached for Josie.
He moved her behind him.
Voss called one final time.
“Think about the pass, Hayes.”
Hoofbeats sounded in the dark.
Then faded.
Caleb waited several minutes before opening the door.
They dragged the injured stranger inside.
The man was barely conscious.
Josie knelt beside him.
“Who are you?”
His swollen eyes opened.
“Ben.”
“Ben what?”
“Mercer.”
Caleb checked the bindings.
“Why did Voss leave you?”
Ben gave a broken laugh.
“Because I tried to quit.”
Caleb and Josie exchanged a look.
Ben coughed.
Then whispered the words that turned a bad night into something far worse.
“Voss ain’t after your trail for freight.”
Caleb leaned closer.
“What’s he moving?”
Ben’s eyes rolled toward Josie.
“People.”
The cabin went silent.
“What people?” Josie asked.
“Runaways. Girls from rail towns. Men who owe debt.”
Caleb’s face hardened.
Ben swallowed.
“He takes them north.”
“Where?”
“Old mining camp beyond Black Ridge.”
Caleb looked toward the door.
Ben grabbed his sleeve.
“There’s more.”
“What?”
“Voss knows your wife came from Chicago.”
Josie stopped breathing.
May you like
Ben looked directly at her.
“He knows which mill.”
