“I’ll Pay You Back When I Grow Up,” Girl Told Mountain Man — 15 Years Later, He Remembered
Chapter 14
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"They're moving right!" Gideon shouted over the gunfire. He knew this terrain blindly. "They'll try to flank around the woodpile to get an angle on the back door!"Clara crawled across the floor, ignoring the splinters biting into her knees. She reached the small, square window near the rear of the cabin. She cautiously raised her head: two men were trudging through the knee-deep snow, using the stacked cords of firewood for cover.She shoved the barrel of the Winchester through a pre-existing bullet hole in the shutter. She waited until the lead man stepped out from behind the woodpile, exposing his chest. She breathed out slowly, steadying the bucking adrenaline in her veins, and fired.The man folded instantly, clutching his thigh, tumbling into the snowbank with a wet thud.The remaining uninjured man panicked. He fired wildly at the cabin, his shots going wide, embedding into the roof logs, before turning and scrambling back toward the safety of the boulders, dragging his wounded partner by the collar.Silence fell over the ridge—sudden and ringing. The acrid smoke hung thick in the rafters."Harlan!" a voice called from the rocks, thin and panicked. "Harlan! They got Miller! We need to pull back!""Hayes!" the foreman yelled back, his voice strained and tight with pain. "You think a few potshots change anything? The company owns this ridge! We'll be back with 20 men!""Bring 30!" Clara shouted through the broken window, her voice ringing like struck iron. "And bring your own coffins!"For five long minutes, there was nothing but the sound of the wind picking up, rustling the pines. Then, Clara heard the distant, muffled sounds of men dragging themselves back through the snow, retreating down the trail.She slumped against the wall, sliding down until she hit the floorboards. Her hands were shaking violently. The rifle slipped from her grip, clattering against the wood. She pulled her knees to her chest, burying her face in her hands, taking deep, ragged breaths as the adrenaline crash hit her like a physical blow.Gideon watched her. He slowly pushed himself up from the chair, biting back a groan as his ribs protested. He walked over to her, his boots crunching on broken glass. He didn't offer a platitude; he didn't tell her it was going to be all right. He reached down with his left hand and gripped her shoulder—a firm, heavy, anchoring weight.Clara looked up. Her face was pale, smeared with soot and sweat."You did good, Clara," Gideon said quietly. The gravel in his voice was gone, replaced by a profound, naked respect. "You held the line."She nodded slowly, reaching up to rest her trembling hand over his. His skin was rough, calloused, and incredibly warm."They'll come back," she whispered.