Men who saw families as obstacles.
Men who believed violence was simply another form of business.
They continued.
Near sunset, they found a small camp.
Empty.
But recently abandoned.
A fire was still warm.
Jonah crouched beside it.
“They know we're following them.”
Eleanor looked around.
“Then why leave the camp?”
“To make us think they are running.”
She understood.
“It's a trap.”
“Yes.”
A gunshot cracked from the trees.
Jonah grabbed Eleanor and pulled her from the saddle.
They hit the ground.
Another shot.
The horse bolted.
Jonah rolled behind a rock.
“Stay down.”
Eleanor pulled the rifle from her shoulder.
“I know.”
Three men appeared on the ridge.
Jonah fired.
One fell.
Another disappeared behind the trees.
The third raised his rifle.
Eleanor fired first.
The man dropped.
Jonah looked at her.
She lowered the rifle.
“You said stay behind you.”
“You were in front of me.”
He almost smiled.
Almost.
Then they heard a voice.
“Jonah!”
The sound echoed through the trees.
Jonah froze.
Eleanor looked at him.
“Silas?”
A man stepped into view.
He was older than Jonah.
His beard was gray.
A scar ran from his left temple to his jaw.
He smiled.
“You look exactly the same.”
Jonah raised his rifle.
“You should have stayed dead.”
Silas laughed.
“I've heard that before.”
Eleanor moved closer to Jonah.
Silas noticed her.
“So this is the widow.”
Jonah's face hardened.
“She has a name.”
“I remember hearing about you.”
Eleanor looked at him.
“What did you hear?”
“That Jonah Mercer married a woman everyone in Mercy Creek considered worthless.”
Eleanor's eyes narrowed.
Silas smiled.
“I suppose he has always liked difficult things.”
Jonah raised his rifle higher.
“Leave.”
“I didn't come for you.”
“Then why are you here?”
Silas looked toward the mountains.
“I'm here for what your brother died protecting.”
The silver.
Jonah said nothing.
Silas continued.
“You know where it is.”
“No.”
“You've always been a terrible liar.”
“You haven't known me in twenty years.”
“I knew you before you became sentimental.”
Jonah's expression hardened.
“People change.”
Silas laughed.
“That's what women tell themselves.”
Eleanor stepped forward.
“You don't know anything about us.”
Silas looked at her.
“Then perhaps you should ask your husband what happened the last time he trusted someone.”
Jonah's face changed.
Silas smiled.
“That look.”
He seemed pleased.
“Still carrying the guilt.”
Eleanor looked at Jonah.
“What does he mean?”
Jonah didn't answer.
Silas did.
“Your husband believes he killed his own brother.”
Eleanor's heart sank.
Silas disappeared into the trees.
Jonah didn't follow.
He simply stood there.
Eleanor waited.
“Is it true?”
Jonah closed his eyes.
“I didn't kill Daniel.”
“But you believe you did.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He sat on a fallen log.
Eleanor sat beside him.
For the first time, Jonah looked older.
Much older.
“Daniel wanted to confront Silas.”
“What happened?”
“I told him to wait.”
“And?”
“He didn't.”
Jonah stared at the ground.
“I followed him.”
“What happened?”
“They fought.”
“And you?”
“I arrived too late.”
His voice became quieter.
“I saw Daniel fall.”
Eleanor reached for his hand.
“He was already dead.”
Jonah shook his head.
“I could have been there sooner.”
“You couldn't know.”
“I was his brother.”
“You were not responsible for his choices.”
Jonah looked at her.
“I should have protected him.”
Eleanor squeezed his hand.
“You spent your entire life believing that love means preventing every tragedy.”
He looked at her.
“It doesn't.”
“What does it mean?”
“Sometimes it means staying afterward.”
Jonah looked toward the mountains.
Eleanor continued.
“You stayed with your children.”
“You stayed with me.”
“You stayed with Daniel's memory.”
Jonah's eyes filled with emotion.
“I never knew how to forgive myself.”
“You don't have to forgive yourself tonight.”
He looked at her.
“Then what?”
“Start by believing me.”
“About what?”
“That you're not the man Silas wants you to remember.”
Jonah took her hand.
For several moments, neither spoke.
Then they heard horses.
Many horses.
Jonah stood.
“They're coming.”
The two of them moved toward the trees.
Six riders emerged.
Silas was among them.
Eleanor counted.
Seven.
Jonah whispered:
“There's a second trail behind us.”
“Can we make it?”
“If we move now.”
They ran.
The forest became a maze.
Branches tore at Eleanor's coat.
Gunshots followed.
Jonah pulled her toward a narrow ravine.
They crossed a frozen stream.
Climbed the opposite bank.
Then hid beneath an overhang.
The riders passed.
Eleanor breathed quietly.
Jonah was beside her.
Close enough that she could feel his heartbeat.
She whispered:
“What now?”
“We wait.”
“For how long?”
“Until dark.”
She leaned against the stone.
The temperature dropped.
Jonah removed his coat.
She shook her head.
“You need it.”
“So do you.”
“I'll be fine.”
He wrapped it around her anyway.
“You always say that.”
“Because it's usually true.”
He smiled faintly.
“You're stubborn.”
“You married me.”
“I know.”
Hours passed.
Eventually, the men moved away.
Jonah waited another hour.
Then they started back.
The journey home was difficult.
But they reached the cabin before midnight.
The children were asleep.
Martha was waiting.
“Everything all right?”
Eleanor looked at Jonah.
“Not yet.”
The next morning, Jonah gathered the family.
He told them the truth.
Not every detail.
But enough.
Silas was coming.
The children might be in danger.
They needed to leave.
Eleanor expected fear.
Instead, Rose asked:
“Where will we go?”
Jonah answered.
“West.”
“How far?”
“As far as necessary.”
Eleanor looked at him.
“You don't want to fight.”
“No.”
That surprised her.
“Why?”
“Because I spent half my life fighting men who wanted what wasn't theirs.”
He looked toward the children.
“I don't want them growing up believing violence is the only way to protect a home.”
Eleanor understood.
They packed.
By sunset, the cabin was almost empty.
But before they left, Eleanor walked through every room.
The kitchen.
The bedroom.
The children's room.
She touched the wooden table Jonah had built.
The chair Benjamin had broken.
The shelf Rose had decorated with wildflowers.
She suddenly realized how much life could exist inside four walls.
Jonah stood in the doorway.
“You ready?”
She turned.
“No.”
He nodded.
“Neither am I.”
They left anyway.
They traveled west for two days.
On the third morning, they found smoke on the horizon.
Not campfire smoke.
Black smoke.