Then back at Clara.
Something passed between the two men.
Finally, Silas lowered the whip.
"Untie him."
A younger man near the fence hesitated.
Silas snapped, "I said untie him."
The rope was cut.
Elias's arms dropped.
He rolled one shoulder, then the other.
He could have walked away.
Instead, he looked at Clara.
"Why?"
His voice was deeper than she expected.
Clara frowned.
"Why what?"
"Why step in?"
She looked at the blood on his cheek.
"Because nobody else did."
Elias held her gaze for several seconds.
Then he walked away into the trees.
Clara watched him disappear.
She did not know it then, but that was the moment her life in Mercy Creek changed forever.
Three days later, Clara learned why Elias Rourke had been beaten.
At least, she learned the story Silas Crowe wanted everyone to believe.
According to Crowe, Elias had stolen horses from his ranch.
According to the sheriff, Elias had threatened two ranch hands.
According to the men in the saloon, he had murdered a traveler the previous winter.
According to the women who whispered behind curtains, Elias lived alone because no decent woman would tolerate a man with blood on his hands.
Clara believed none of them completely.
She had learned during the war that truth rarely traveled in straight lines.
People bent it.
Colored it.
Sold it.
And by the time it reached the last person, nobody knew what had happened anymore.
That afternoon, a boy came running into Clara's clinic.
He was perhaps twelve years old, thin as a fence post, with a cap too large for his head.
"Miss Bell!"
Clara looked up from the bandages she was folding.
"What is it?"
"You need to come."
"Where?"
"The north trail."
"Why?"
The boy swallowed.
"Mr. Rourke is hurt."
Clara immediately grabbed her medical bag.
The boy led her beyond the edge of town, across a frozen creek and up a narrow trail between pine trees.
The deeper they went, the quieter the world became.
Finally, they reached a small cabin built against the mountain.
Elias was sitting outside.
He had a rifle across his lap.
Blood covered one sleeve.
Clara stopped.
"You've been shot."
He looked down at his arm.
"So it appears."
"Let me see."
"No."
Clara sighed.
"You're bleeding."
"I noticed."
"Then perhaps you'd like to stop."
He looked at her.
She stared back.
After a moment, Elias placed the rifle against the wall.
"Inside."
The cabin was surprisingly orderly.
There were shelves filled with jars, dried herbs hanging from beams, a small iron stove, and a table made from rough-hewn pine.
Clara pointed toward a chair.
"Sit."
Elias sat.
She cut away the sleeve.
The bullet had grazed his upper arm rather than entered it.
Clara cleaned the wound.
He didn't react.
"You have an impressive talent for pretending pain doesn't exist," she said.
"Pain exists."
"You're simply ignoring it?"
"Most pain passes."
Clara wrapped the wound.
"Not all of it."
He looked at her.
For some reason, that look made her uncomfortable.
Not because it was threatening.
Because it was honest.
"You should leave Mercy Creek," he said.
"Why?"
"Because Silas Crowe won't forget what happened."
"I didn't think he would."
"He'll come after you."
Clara closed her medical bag.
"Is that a warning?"
"Yes."
"Are you planning to protect me?"
"No."
She raised an eyebrow.
"That sounded convincing."
Elias stood.
"You saved me from the whip."
"I didn't save you."
"You stepped between us."
"That doesn't make you my responsibility."
"No."
He looked toward the window.
"But it makes Crowe think you are."
Clara's expression changed.
"What does he want?"
Elias was silent.
Then he said, "The mountain."
Clara frowned.
"What mountain?"
"All of it."
He pointed toward the distant peaks.
"Timber. Silver. Water. Land. Crowe wants everything beyond Mercy Creek."
"And what does that have to do with you?"
Elias looked back at her.
"I own the only legal claim to the northern valley."
Clara understood.
"And Crowe wants you gone."
"He wants the claim."
"Why not buy it?"
"Because I won't sell."
"And that's why he beat you?"
"Partly."
Clara studied him.
"What happened to the man you were accused of killing?"
Elias's face became still.