Chapter 5 - THE WOMAN WHO RAN BACK INTO THE FIRE
The root cellar opened beneath the pantry.
Caleb pulled the trapdoor up.
“Anna first.”
The girl disappeared down the ladder.
Ben followed badly, favoring his wounded side.
Josie coughed as smoke thickened.
“Go.”
She shook her head.
“After you.”
“Josie.”
“After you.”
Another shot hit the wall.
Caleb grabbed her shoulders.
“Listen to me.”
“No.”
“Josie.”
“The marriage agreement does not say you get to die dramatically while I hide under potatoes.”
For one insane second, Caleb laughed.
Then the ceiling cracked above the stove.
Sparks fell.
He pushed her toward the cellar.
“Down.”
This time she went.
Caleb fired twice through the back shutter.
A rider shouted.
He kicked the burning rug away from the wall.
Too much flame.
No saving the kitchen.
He grabbed the deed box from beneath the bed.
Land papers.
Marriage certificate.
Cash.
Then he saw something else.
Josie’s small sewing tin.
He took that too.
Why?
No idea.
Then smoke swallowed the room.
“CALEB!”
Her voice below.
“I’m coming!”
The roof beam groaned.
Caleb moved toward the pantry.
Then heard whimpering.
Not human.
Outside.
Duchess.
The mare was tied near the side shelter.
Flames had spread to the lean-to.
Caleb swore.
He should go down.
He knew it.
Josie was waiting.
He had promised.
Then Duchess screamed.
Caleb turned toward the door.
He made it three steps.
The trapdoor slammed open behind him.
Josie climbed out.
“What are you doing?”
“Go back!”
“What are you doing?”
“Horse.”
Her face changed.
Then she grabbed a wet blanket from the basin.
“Fine.”
“Josie.”
“Together.”
There was no time to argue.
They wrapped cloth over their faces and went through the front.
Shots cracked from the tree line.
The attackers had expected them to remain inside.
Caleb fired once.
Josie ran low toward Duchess.
The horse kicked wildly.
“Easy!”
Flames climbed the post.
Josie reached for the knot.
Too tight.
She pulled Caleb’s hunting knife from his belt.
Cut the rope.
Duchess bolted.
“Josie!”
A rider came from the side.
Too fast.
Caleb raised his rifle.
Empty.
The rider lifted a pistol.
Josie fired first.
Her shot hit the man’s shoulder.
He fell from the saddle.
Caleb stared.
Josie stared too.
“I hit him.”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“You did exactly right.”
Another rider shouted.
Then hoofbeats thundered from the south.
More riders.
For one terrible second Caleb thought Voss had reinforcements.
Then Sheriff Dalton appeared through the smoke with six men behind him.
“DROP THEM!”
The attackers scattered.
Two fled north.
One surrendered.
The wounded rider tried to crawl.
Dalton’s men took all four within minutes.
Caleb turned toward the cabin.
Half the roof was burning.
Josie stared too.
Everything she had learned to call home was inside.
The bed she had feared.
The table where Caleb had wrapped her blister.
The wool dress she had mended twice.
The books.
Her few letters.
The small mirror.
She ran.
Caleb caught her.
“No.”
“My things.”
“No.”
“My mother’s scarf.”
“Josie.”
She fought him.
“It’s all I have!”
The roof collapsed.
She stopped.
Flames burst through the windows.
Caleb wrapped both arms around her.
This time she did not pull away.
She sobbed once.
Then buried her face against him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“What for?”
“I should’ve protected it.”
She looked up.
“Did you start the fire?”
“No.”
“Then stop taking blame for men who hurt us.”
He stared.
His own words.
Returned.
Sheriff Dalton approached.
“You two all right?”
Caleb nodded.
Josie wiped her face.
“Anna and Ben are in the cellar.”
Dalton sent men down.
Within minutes both emerged.
Anna coughing.
Ben pale but alive.
The wounded attacker was dragged past.
Josie recognized him from nothing.
Caleb did.
“Roy Tanner.”
Roy laughed weakly.
“Hayes.”
“Voss send you?”
Roy said nothing.
Dalton searched his coat.
Found money.
A route map.
And a telegram.
Dalton read it.
Then looked at Josie.
“What?”
She asked.
He handed it over.
It had been sent from Chicago.
FROM H. KESSLER.
HAYES WOMAN MUST BE RETURNED OR REMOVED BEFORE SPRING. VOSS PASS REQUIRED. NO WITNESSES.
Josie’s hands shook.
“Returned?”
Caleb’s face went cold.
Sheriff Dalton looked at him.
“Means Kessler wants her back.”
“No.”
Caleb said it quietly.
Dalton continued.
“We can wire federal marshal in Helena. Maybe Chicago authorities.”
“Maybe?”
“Evidence crosses territory. Takes time.”
Josie stared at the burning cabin.
“No.”
Both men looked at her.
She folded the telegram.
“We have names.”
“Yes,” Dalton said.
“We have Anna.”
“Yes.”
“Ben.”
“Yes.”
“Roy.”
Caleb understood.
“You want to testify.”
“I want to end it.”
“Josie.”
She turned.
“Not because I need to prove I’m brave.”
He went quiet.
“Because there are women in that mill who don’t know their names are being sold.”
Anna stepped closer.
“And women at Black Ridge.”
Josie nodded.
Caleb looked toward the north.
The smoke from his burning home rose against the mountains.
Then he looked at the people around him.
Sheriff.
Witnesses.
Captured men.
A wife who had run into fire beside him.
“This isn’t only our fight anymore.”
“No,” Josie said.
He looked at Dalton.
“What do you need?”
“Someone who knows the mountain.”
“Me.”
“Someone who knows Voss.”
Ben raised a hand weakly.
“Unfortunately.”
“Someone who can identify Kessler’s system.”
Josie stepped forward.
“Me.”
Dalton sighed.
“I was hoping you’d all be sensible.”
Caleb almost smiled.
“You came to the wrong ranch.”
They spent that night in Reverend Hale’s church.
Blankets across pews.
Food from neighbors.
Josie sat beside Caleb near the stove.
Neither spoke for a long time.
Then he placed something in her lap.
Her sewing tin.
Blackened slightly.
But intact.
She looked at him.
“You saved this?”
“I panicked.”
Her eyes filled.
Inside were needles.
Thread.
Two buttons.
And the little piece of blue ribbon her mother had tied around Josie’s hair on her tenth birthday.
She touched it.
“Thank you.”
Caleb nodded.
She looked toward the church doors.
“Our cabin is gone.”
“Yes.”
“The bed too.”
“Yes.”
A tiny smile appeared.
“Good.”
Caleb blinked.
“What?”
“I hated that bed.”
He laughed.
Josie leaned closer.
“When we build another…”
He looked at her.
“We?”
She flushed.
“Yes.”
Caleb’s voice softened.
“When we build another?”
“I want a bigger kitchen.”
“Expensive.”
“And a window above the sink.”
“Demanding.”
“And the bed…”
He waited.
She swallowed.
“The bed can stay.”
Caleb stopped breathing.
Josie’s face went red.
“I mean eventually.”
He looked away quickly.
“Eventually.”
She smiled.
May you like
For the first time, the word did not sound like fear.
It sounded like a future.
