“There’s also a law about obstructing an investigation.”
“Then arrest me.”
Mercer studied him.
For a moment, nobody moved.
Then Evelyn stepped into view.
“Stop.”
Caleb swore under his breath.
Mercer looked delighted.
“There she is.”
Evelyn wore Caleb’s shirt and her partly dried skirt.
Her dark hair hung loose.
Mercer removed his hat.
“Ma’am. Sheriff Mercer. We’ve been searching for you.”
“I’m safe here.”
“I’m sure Mr. Ward means well. But your family is very concerned.”
Evelyn stiffened.
“My family?”
Mercer reached inside his coat.
Caleb’s hand moved toward his gun.
“Easy,” Mercer said.
He produced a telegram.
“Received in Mercy Creek this morning.”
He handed it to Evelyn.
She read.
Then stopped.
Caleb watched her face.
“What?”
She handed him the telegram.
URGENT. EVELYN HARROW MISSING FOLLOWING COACH INCIDENT. RETURN HER UNDER PROTECTION. SIGNED SILAS HARROW.
Caleb looked at Mercer.
“How did Silas Harrow know the coach crashed?”
Mercer blinked.
“What?”
“The road’s buried. Mail coach never reached town. You said you only started searching after it failed to arrive.”
Mercer said nothing.
Caleb held up the telegram.
“This arrived this morning.”
The sheriff’s right hand twitched.
That was enough.
Caleb slammed the door.
A gunshot blasted through it.
Evelyn screamed.
Caleb threw her behind the stone hearth as bullets punched through the logs around the windows.
“Back room!”
“There is no back room!”
“Right. Forgot.”
Despite everything, she almost laughed.
Caleb fired through the wall.
A deputy screamed outside.
Another bullet shattered a window.
Mercer shouted, “Give us the woman and the papers, Ward!”
Caleb’s face hardened.
Papers.
Confirmation.
He looked at Evelyn.
“Trapdoor.”
“What?”
“Under the bearskin.”
She dragged the rug aside.
A square hatch appeared.
“Root cellar.”
“You’re coming.”
“No.”
“Caleb—”
“Go.”
She stared.
He seized her shoulders.
“Listen to me. There’s a crawl tunnel at the far end. It opens behind the ridge. Follow it out, take the upper trail north, then cut west. You’ll reach an abandoned line shack.”
“And you?”
“I’ll keep them here.”
“They’ll kill you.”
“Possible.”
“No.”
“Evelyn.”
“No!”
Something in her voice stopped him.
“I have spent the past three weeks running because men decided what I knew made my life expendable. I woke here without my clothes, my memory, or my name. Everyone keeps telling me where to go and what to do.”
Her eyes flashed.
“I am finished running while men decide whether I live.”
Caleb stared at her.
Then, unbelievably, smiled.
It transformed his face.
For a second, Evelyn saw the man he might have been before grief carved him apart.
“All right,” he said.
“What?”
“You shoot?”
“Terribly.”
“We’ll improve.”
The fight lasted less than ten minutes.
It felt like an hour.
Caleb overturned the table and used it as cover.
Evelyn crouched beside the hearth with the revolver.
One deputy tried the rear wall.
Evelyn saw his shadow cross the window.
She fired.
Missed.
Fired again.
The deputy cursed and retreated.
“Improving,” Caleb said.
“This is not amusing!”
“Little.”
Mercer shouted from outside, “You can’t win this!”
Caleb answered, “Been losing for eight years. Feels familiar.”
A bullet ripped through the table.
Then silence.
Too much silence.
Caleb frowned.
Smoke seeped beneath the door.
Evelyn smelled it.
“Oh God.”
They had set the cabin on fire.
Flames began climbing the outer wall.
Caleb went completely still.
Fire.
For an instant, he was no longer in the cabin.
He was outside his old home.
Anna screaming inside.
Jacob—
“Caleb!”
Evelyn slapped him.
He blinked.
“Stay with me.”
The flames crackled louder.
His breathing turned ragged.
Evelyn grabbed his face with both hands.
“This is not eight years ago.”
Caleb stared at her.
“Do you hear me?”
