Her expression softened.
“That you hated thunderstorms but loved snow.”
“That was before snow started trying to kill us.”
Silas’s smile faded.
“He said you were the bravest person he’d ever met.”
Maylin looked away.
“No.”
“He meant it.”
“You know what bravery looks like?”
She gestured toward the sleeping girls.
“It’s pretending you’re not hungry so your children will eat. It’s telling them tomorrow will be better when you have no reason to believe it. It’s burning your husband’s chair because the alternative is watching your daughters freeze.”
Her voice cracked.
“That isn’t bravery. That’s terror with nowhere else to go.”
Silas was quiet.
Then he said, “Sometimes that’s exactly what bravery is.”
Their eyes met.
For one dangerous second, Maylin felt something warm move through the emptiness inside her.
She hated herself for it.
Thomas had been dead fourteen months.
Fourteen months could be an eternity when you were hungry.
It could also be yesterday.
Maylin stood abruptly.
“I’ll get you another blanket.”
She stepped toward the bedroom.
Then Silas grabbed her wrist.
Maylin spun around.
“Let go.”
“Listen.”
His face had changed.
The softness was gone.
“What?”
Silas raised one finger.
Outside, beneath the storm, came another sound.
A horse.
Then another.
Silas extinguished the lamp.
“Wake the girls.”
Maylin’s blood froze.
“How many?”
“Three. Maybe four.”
A voice shouted outside.
“Mrs. Harrow!”
Maylin recognized it instantly.
Gideon Pike.
She looked at Silas.
His revolver was already in his hand.
“Bedroom. Now.”
“No.”
“Maylin—”
“This is my house.”
Gideon shouted again.
“Maylin! Thank God! We thought you might be trapped!”
Maylin’s stomach turned.
That voice had comforted her at Thomas’s funeral.
It had told her Thomas felt no pain.
It had offered credit for food.
It had purchased her wedding ring.
Silas positioned himself beside the window.
“You can’t let him know I’m here.”
“Why?”
“If he thinks you’re alone, he may talk.”
“And if he sees the wagon?”
“Snow’s nearly covered it.”
Maylin swallowed.
She opened the door.
Gideon Pike stood in the storm wearing an expensive fur coat.
Two men waited behind him.
“Maylin!”
He smiled.
“I’ve been worried sick.”
“Why are you here?”
“Christmas.”
His eyes moved past her into the cabin.
“I brought provisions.”
Maylin almost laughed.
“That’s generous.”
Gideon noticed the fire.
Then the bread.
His smile faded slightly.
“You’ve already had company.”
“A traveler.”
“What traveler?”
“He moved on.”
“In this storm?”
Maylin said nothing.
Gideon’s expression changed.
Only slightly.
But now that she knew where to look, she saw the cruelty beneath his kindness.
“May I come inside?”
“No.”
The word surprised both of them.
Gideon smiled again.
“Maylin.”
“My girls are sleeping.”
“I’ll be quiet.”
“No.”
One of the men behind him shifted.
Gideon sighed.
“I heard someone has been asking questions about Thomas.”
Maylin kept her face empty.
“Who?”
“A dangerous man.”
“What kind of questions?”
“About the mine.”
Maylin’s pulse thundered.
Gideon moved one step closer.
“There are people who like to turn tragedies into conspiracies.”
“Thomas’s death was a tragedy.”
“Yes.”
“Wasn’t it?”
Gideon’s eyes met hers.
For the first time, Maylin saw his mask disappear.
Only for a second.
