A Stranger at the Keeper’s Door (Preview)

Chapter One

Alder Creek Valley

Elspeth stood in the doorway and looked at the coffins on the floor of the sitting      room. They had been there overnight, both sisters wanting it to be the final night as a family before their parents were taken to the cemetery.

She couldn’t believe this was happening. It was horrific that this had occurred over such a short space of time. She had lost both her mother and father within hours of each other. They got sick so quickly, and then the deterioration continued right in front of her eyes.

Elspeth was still in shock. Her parents were so strong, always so healthy and never seemed to get sick. Even a slight cold was brushed off and they continued as usual. This was different, and Elspeth kept wondering if this was a bad dream.

But it wasn’t. She couldn’t get the coffins, made-to-measure, out of her sitting room. Not until the townspeople arrived to put them on the cart.

She caught sight of herself in the mirror nearby, and it was like a stranger stared back at her. Her hair was almost as dark as her black dress, and both made her look washed out. Her face appeared to be thinner than before, and her eyes were hollowed out. This couldn’t be her now, could it? Elspeth didn’t even recognize her own reflection.

A sniffling behind her made her turn. Her sister was sitting on the stairs, hunched over herself and twisting a handkerchief in her hands, her fair hair falling from her chignon and over her pale face. Elspeth was surprised that the handkerchief      didn’t end up getting twisted to pieces. Clara rocked back and forth, her face screwed up as she tried to fight back the hysterics.

“This can’t be real,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “They can’t be dead.”

Elspeth didn’t respond. Clara had been in denial of it as well. They’d taken it in turns to look after their parents during their sickness while the other continued taking care of the lodge and the various duties that needed dealing with. It was Clara who’d been sitting with Ma as she passed away, and then both her and Elspeth were at their father’s side as he drew his last breath. To Clara, this was more than distressing, and she didn’t want to believe it.

Elspeth couldn’t argue with that.

A knock at the door got her attention, and she trudged to the front door, feeling heavy as she tried to pick up her feet. They couldn’t be complacent right now. They had a duty to attend to, but Elspeth didn’t want to do it. She just wanted to get away from it all, to pretend this never happened.

A young man wearing black and a top hat was standing on the porch. He cleared his throat and nervously raised his hat.

“Good afternoon, Miss Rowan. We’re here for Mr. and Mrs. Rowan.”

“They’re in the sitting room, Michael.” Elspeth stepped to one side. “You know where you’re going.”

Michael cleared his throat and stepped across the threshold, followed by three other men from the town. They gave her cursory nod and then averted their gazes, scurrying into the sitting room. Clara whimpered as they walked by her, and she got off the stairs, moving into the kitchen. Elspeth wanted to go with the ushers, but someone had to be with their parents. She needed to make sure they were looked after.

They were dead, though. It wasn’t like they would care, but Elspeth did.

She stood by the front door and kept the door open as they carried the coffins out, straining against the weight. The wind was strong and kept threatening to pull the door out of her hands. Elspeth had to lean on it after a while, feeling it bump against her back. It would be typical that they had a storm during the funeral. It had been raging between strong winds and thunderous rain for the best part of a week. Elspeth had wanted to put off the funeral until the weather was better, but the reverend wanted to get them buried as soon as possible, pointing out that it would be better for the parents’ souls to be put to rest. Elspeth was at the point where she didn’t believe that, but she did agree that carrying on with the funeral was the best thing they could possibly do. She had to think about them.

If only they weren’t dead. Elspeth found herself wanting to lean on her mother, to get comfort from her, only to remember that she was one of the coffins being loaded onto the back of the cart in their front yard. She was forgetting, carrying on as if she was in another world.

Once the coffins were on the cart, she went to find her sister. Clara was pacing around the kitchen, still twisting her handkerchief. Elspeth laid a hand over them, stilling her sister’s agitated movements.

“Come on,” she said gently. “We’ve got to go.”

“We can’t go just yet,” Clara whimpered, biting her bottom lip. “I can’t…I just…”

“I know. Neither can I. But we’ve got to do it. It’s something that we have to get the hang of, being on our own. We can’t leave it for other people to do for us.”

Clara didn’t look convinced, brushing her hair out of her face. Elspeth felt a stab of pain in her chest. With her dark hair and green eyes, Clara looked so much like their mother. Mavis Rowan was a beauty, and she’d passed it on to her younger daughter. Whereas Elspeth had been more like her father, both with russet-brown hair that was often thick and unruly and hazel eyes. But one look at the sisters and there was no denying they were related.

They were going to be having a lot of people staring at them, and Elspeth just wanted to run away and hide. She wanted the funeral to be a quiet affair, just her and Clara as they buried their parents, but everyone in town would be turning out. They would be there to mourn and to gawk at the sisters.

They had nothing better to do.

Taking a deep breath, Clara squared her shoulders and stuffed her handkerchief into her sleeve.

“All right. I’m ready.” She swallowed. “I’m not, but I haven’t got a choice.”

Elspeth smiled and hugged her.

“We can do this. I know we can.”

They left the house and started to follow the cart down the slope and directly into town, the layer of snow on the ground crunching under their boots. They weren’t too far away, sitting on top of a hill with the rest of their neighbors spread out before them. It was always a nice view, and Elspeth would spend hours sitting on the porch with a mug of coffee, watching the world go by.

She doubted she would be able to do that for a while.

It didn’t take long to get to the cemetery, and Elspeth bit back a groan when she saw the crowd that had gathered. She knew she couldn’t slip this by everyone, but to have people present felt like she and Clara were under scrutiny.

Then again, it should’ve been expected. Thomas and Mavis Rowan had been kind, generous people. The fact they’d passed away so quickly had to be a big talk in the town as well as the reason for it. If Ma      and Pa      hadn’t gone out into the storm to help someone who was stranded, they wouldn’t have gotten caught in it. They wouldn’t have ended up as sick as they did. Elspeth wanted to blame them for going to help a stranger when they should’ve stayed inside, but that was what they were like. Her parents were good people; they’d never ignore someone who needed assistance.

But because of that, of the stranger who ended up vanishing into thin air, they were dead.

She and Clara stood by the grave, listening to the reverend drone on with his service, talking about faith and endurance. But it was just going in one ear and out the other. Elspeth stared at the coffins lying by the two freshly dug graves that were starting to      fill with water. She wondered if the coffins were going to float, or if the water was going to seep into them and drown her parents.

No, they couldn’t drown. They were already dead. What was she thinking?

It felt like the service took forever. The wind was strong, and it felt like it was going to knock her over. Clara gripped onto her hand, and that seemed to center the two of them. Despite what was going on, Elspeth knew she had her younger sister. Clara was always going to be there.

A movement ahead of her got her attention, and she looked up to see Horace Whitlock. He was standing at the front of the crowd of mourners, looking immaculate in his black suit, his head slightly bowed to show the silver streaks in his dark hair. Occasionally, he glanced up toward her, and Elspeth could feel him regarding her with an intensity that made her uncomfortable. It was kind of him to be there, but there was something about him that made her nervous. She could never figure out what it was, though.

Her mother told her that she shouldn’t be so distrustful of people, but Elspeth couldn’t help it. It was in her nature to be suspicious of others. She found herself being proven right a lot of the time.

She could only hope that she was wrong this time. She didn’t need to be suspicious of her neighbors right now.

The scrape of shovels made Elspeth jump, and she realized that coffins had been lowered into the holes. She hadn’t even noticed that, her mind wandering everywhere. She flinched as the shovels scraping grated on her nerves, and watched the earth being tossed into the holes, splattering on the coffins.

She couldn’t look at this anymore. This was too much. Turning away, she hurried away and stopped under a tree near the far end of the cemetery. The wind was making the tree sway too much, and there was a fear it would eventually      tip over. But Elspeth didn’t care about that anymore. She huddled under the tree, trying to breathe without her throat closing up. She’d been coping as best that she could for a long time, and it felt as if she was going to break.

“Elspeth?”

Clara joined her, removing her veil and tucking it back on the top of her hat. Elspeth took a deep breath and managed a smile.

“I’m fine.”

Her sister frowned, clearly not believing her. Then she took Elspeth’s hand, squeezing it tightly. Sometimes, they didn’t need to talk to know what the other was thinking.

Footsteps on the wet grass got their attention, and they turned to see Horace Whitlock approaching them. He looked like he was strolling across the grass with long, confident strides. Even in his mourning suit, he looked healthy and content, almost the complete opposite of Elspeth right then. He gave them a sympathetic smile and held out a hand, clasping Elspeth’s before she had a chance to move as he took off his hat to reveal a full hair of thick dark curls on his head.     

“That was a lovely service, Miss Rowan,” he said. “And please, again, accept my condolences. Thomas and Mavis were good people, and I couldn’t have asked for better neighbors.”

“Thank you, Mr. Whitlock,” Elspeth murmured.

“You can call me Horace. I won’t complain if you do.” His smile widened and he turned to Clara, releasing Elspeth’s hand to touch her sisters. “If you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be there for you. Just let me know.”

“We appreciate that,” Clara said, giving him a tiny smile in response.

After a moment of awkward silence, Horace cleared his throat and walked away. Elspeth felt the tightness in      her chest ease when he did that. For some reason, the handsome young man’s      presence made her feel on edge. She had to stop with that; not everyone had ulterior motives, and she shouldn’t be so naturally suspicious.

That was easier said than done.

“Elspeth.”

Lillian Brooks was walking toward them, wearing a black dress and a short veil on her hat, keeping her dark blonde hair out of sight. Elspeth relaxed at the sight of her friend and hugged her. Lillian stepped back and cupped Elspeth’s cheeks in her hands.

“You look like you’re going to keel over. You’re not looking after yourself, are you?”

“I’m fine,” Elspeth muttered.

“No, you’re not.” Lillian shook her head. “Honestly, you need to take better care of your health, especially with everything now.”

That was when it fully set in for Elspeth. Her father had wished for the lodge and the land to become hers should anything happen to him. It was even in his will. It wasn’t something normal, leaving inheritance and property to a daughter, and it had raised a lot of eyebrows, but Thomas Rowan was adamant about doing it. He wanted his daughters to be safe and know they had a place to call home.

And it was all Elspeth’s now. The weight of it rested on her shoulders, and she felt lightheaded. Clara caught her as she swayed.

“I think we should get back to the lodge,” she said. “Are you coming, Lillian?”

“Yes. Henry is taking the girls there. They’ll be waiting for us to arrive.”

That made Elspeth feel a little better. She would be glad to see Lillian’s little girls right now. Rose and Millie Brooks were five years old and very lively. There was an innocent happiness about them, and it was infectious. Elspeth loved spending time with the twins, who always filled rooms with laughter.

“What did Horace Whitlock want with you?” Lillian asked as they left the cemetery and started walking along the street. The rest of the mourners had dispersed and were heading home, back to their normal lives. Elspeth wondered if they were going to deal with a similar distressing situation as hers. A snowstorm had gone past, and the snow lining the ground had barely melted away, and now another storm was coming. It was going to be a bad one as well, Elspeth could tell.

She and Clara were likely going to be stuck in the lodge until they dug themselves out. They couldn’t sit around doing nothing, though. It was not something they could sit back and let someone else handle. Now they were alone, they had to do it themselves.

Elspeth could cope with that, but knowing her parents wouldn’t be there would be hanging over her.

“Elspeth?”

“Hmm?”

“I asked you what Horace Whitlock wanted with you and Clara.” Lillian frowned. “I didn’t think you would have anything to do with him. I know your parents were friendly with him…”

“He just offered his condolences,” Clara said quickly. “He’s been very kind to us since Mother and Father passed away.”

Elspeth frowned.

“What do you mean by that?”

“He’s been coming by the house when you’ve been busy elsewhere. He spent time talking to me, comforting me as I talked about them.”

“And you never thought to tell me about it?”

Clara shrugged.

“It just slipped my mind. You were too busy with other things, and I didn’t want to give you anything mundane, given everything else.”

Lillian glanced at Elspeth with a raised eyebrow. She had to be thinking the same thing; what was she talking about? Normally, Clara shared everything to the point it could be considered too much. Why would she hide this?

Elspeth didn’t want to talk about it right now. She just wanted to get back to the lodge and sit down to think about everything that she needed to deal with. That included looking over the accounting books and making sure it was all balanced. Her father was one of those people who was meticulous about everything, so that should be covered. But then Elspeth had a feeling there was going to be a lot more.

Why hadn’t she been told more about it before her parents passed away? Or maybe she had and she hadn’t really noticed.

“I think we’re all in need of a stiff drink,” Lillian declared, slipping her arm through Elspeth’s. “Apart from the twins, of course. They can stick to their milk.”

Elspeth couldn’t help but giggle at that. But then she thought of something else.

“Do they know what happened to our parents? That they won’t be able to see them anymore?”

“I explained that they’d gone to heaven, and they’d be making sure the girls were good and did as they were told. I think they understood, but I’m not quite sure.”

That was going to be an awkward conversation. Elspeth hoped she wasn’t the one who ended up telling them. She was still trying to come to terms with it herself.

All because of the snowstorm. Her parents had become ill and died within days. It was shocking to know people normally so strong could end up dead in such a short space of time. And there was a part of her that felt like it wasn’t real. That her parents were going to be at the lodge when they returned.

But Elspeth knew that it wasn’t going to happen. They were going to be gone for good. And Elspeth and Clara were on their own.

Chapter Two

One Month Later

Nathaniel gritted his teeth as his horse slipped a little in the snow, hoping that he wasn’t going to end up tumbling to the ground. But Hallow regained his footing and straightened up with a snort. Nathaniel leaned over and stroked the horse’s neck.

“Take it easy,” he said. “We don’t want to end up battered and bruised more than we already are.”

Hallow glanced at him over his shoulder before looking away. Nathaniel guided him carefully along the road. It was still covered in snow, and there was slush and ice where it had been stomped away. It was nothing short of a miracle they hadn’t fallen over already.

At least it was better than the last time he’d been out in the cold. A river had flooded due to the heavy downpour, and he’d needed to cross it. He’d almost gotten dragged away in the current, only rescuing himself by grabbing at rocks in the middle of the river and waiting for help on the other side to throw him a rope. It had been a close thing, and Nathaniel avoided river crossings as much as he could unless the water was up to his ankles.

He wasn’t about to risk that at this time of year. He would end up freezing to death, and he wasn’t about to do that.

Then something his friend once said to him came to mind, and Nathaniel felt a shiver up his spine as he remembered the last time he saw him. He couldn’t think about him right now; it would just make him worse. Everything had gone wrong, and his friend wasn’t going to forgive him. Nathaniel knew it wouldn’t help brooding over what had gone awry with their last assignment.

He had more important things to worry about, such as following instructions in the letter he’d received. He hadn’t thought he’d be doing this, not with this friend, but when someone he owed was crying out for help, Nathaniel wasn’t about to refuse. Even if it meant traveling in a snowstorm that seemed to be getting worse.

Hopefully, it was a genuine cry for help and it wasn’t a prank. And worth going through bad weather.

As he turned a bend in the road, he caught sight of a stagecoach on the grass verge by the woods. People were milling around it, at least half a dozen. Were they on their way to Alder Creek Valley as well? They had to be; there wasn’t much on the other side of that town, a lot of open space. Unless they were taking a circuitous route into the next county? Nathaniel had been told that this road was mostly used for direct access and not as a pass-through unless there was no option.

It was surprising that Alder Creek Valley was as busy as it was, according to the letter, if they didn’t have many visitors.

One of the young men by the stagecoach looked up as Nathaniel approached. He held up a hand in greeting.

“Good day.”

“Afternoon.” Nathaniel stopped his horse and looked at the rest of the travelers as they gathered around a fire. “What’s going on? Are you all right?”

“We’re fine. We’re just stopping to have something to eat before we continue.” The young man gestured further up the road. “Some of us have gone on ahead to check the road. With the storm incoming, we’re close to being stuck in the stagecoach until it passes.”

“That’s not good,” Nathaniel agreed. He dismounted, holding onto Hallow’s reins. “Do you think you’ll be able to get to wherever you’re going? Is it Alder Creek Valley you’re heading to?”

“We were actually on our way to Washington State, but the original way we were going to travel has had a landslide, so we’ve ended up going this way. It’s frustrating as it’s added more days onto our journey, but it was meant to be safer.”

Nathaniel looked over the people crowded around the fire. They were eating and talking, although a couple of them kept glancing over at him curiously. There was one woman with blonde hair sitting with her back to him, and she seemed to still when she heard his voice. But he didn’t pay much attention; he was hungry himself, and he only had a few meager items of food in his knapsack.

“Why don’t you join us?” the young man suggested. “We’ve got a bit extra, if you want. Just bread and cheese with some whiskey, but that will do until we get to Alder Creek Valley and get a decent meal.”

“You had me at whiskey,” Nathaniel joked, taking the bottle from the lad’s hand. He took a swig, feeling the burn sliding down his throat. Now that felt better, and he felt a little warmer for it. “I’m Nathaniel Cole.”

“Linwood Glen.” They shook hands. “Where are you heading?”

“Alder Creek, actually. I’ve got a friend I was going to visit.”

“Must be a good friend if you’re going in this weather.”

“What does that say about you and your traveling?” Nathaniel shot back with a smile.

Linwood chuckled.

“Fair point. I hope we’re not too far away, otherwise it’s going to be even worse for us.” He sighed and shuddered in his thick coat, snow flecked in his hair. “We were planning on spending a couple of nights in the warmth of an inn before continuing. It sounds better than sleeping on the stagecoach in groups. With this weather, we can’t really stop and sleep out in the open, and there hasn’t been a town for a long time.”

“It’s in the middle of nowhere,” Nathaniel agreed.

“Who decided to put this town out here when there’s barely anything around it? But it’s going to be a lifesaver for us, certainly.”

“I can imagine. And I’m sure we’re not too far off getting to civilization.”

Nathaniel had checked his map not too long ago, and he had guessed he was about two miles away from Alder Creek. They weren’t going to travel for much longer, much to his relief. He was looking forward to finding somewhere warm as well.

Someone shouting got his attention, and he turned to see someone stumbling through the snow, almost tripping over his own feet. Linwood went to him and caught the man as he reached them.

“Careful, Jonas! You don’t want to break your leg.”

Jonas took a moment to get his breath back, resting his hands on his knees as he bent over and gulped in air deeply. His face was flushed, although Nathaniel wasn’t sure if it was from exertion or from the cold. Finally, the man straightened up.

“The road is clear,” he said. “There’s a ravine in the distance, and we’re going to need to get past that, but there’s no blockages and the snow is firm underfoot. We should be fine.”

“That’s a relief,” Linwood sighed heavily. “I don’t think we could turn the coach around now.”

“The others are waiting for us to pick them up. Then we can continue on.” Jonas looked at Nathaniel, only realizing there was someone else with them. “Who’s this?”

“Nathaniel Cole.” Nathaniel stuck out a hand. “Just passing by as well.”

“Jonas…Jonas Barclay.” The man’s hand was like ice as they grasped hands. “I’m in charge of the stagecoach. You’re not trying to hitch a ride as well, are you?”

“No, I’ve got my horse. You don’t need to worry about that.”

“Sorry to say, but good. There’s no more room.” Jonas rubbed his hands over his face and flinched. “I wish I knew where I left my gloves.”

“How much further do you think it is?” Linwood asked.

“The ravine will open up afterward, and then we’ll be heading down into the valley and Alder Creek. If we’re lucky, we can rest for a few days. I don’t think anyone wants to continue with this bad weather.”

Nathaniel couldn’t argue with that. He knew the stagecoach was meant to continue no matter the weather, but he was still surprised that it would go through a snowstorm. That almost felt like asking for trouble. But people had to get paid somehow. He understood that part.

“Why don’t you travel with us shortly?” Linwood suggested. “We’re going in the same direction, so we might as well keep each other company.”

“Why not?”

Jonas looked non-committal, shrugging as he turned away, muttering under his breath. Nathaniel watched him head over to the fire, raising his hands to the flames to warm his fingers.

“What’s the matter with him?” he asked.

“He just hates the cold. I think he’s beginning to regret taking over this business from his father.” Linwood spread his hands. “He’s been like this since I started working for him.”

“You work on the stagecoach as well?”

“Yes, I normally keep a watch out for bandits looking to steal from our passengers. Although I would consider anyone out here looking to rob anyone insane. Even bandits won’t be out in this weather.”

Nathaniel chuckled.

“You’d be surprised, but I don’t think anyone would risk getting frostbite.”

“So, do you wish to join us? I could do with someone to talk to. It gets a bit boring sitting on the back and nobody’s coming out to sit with me.”

That was fair enough. Nathaniel was, admittedly, getting bored as well. He was starting to think about his past, and what he’d done that ruined him, and it was lowering his mood. Having a distraction was something he needed just as much as Linwood.

It wasn’t long before the fire was doused and the travelers were getting back onto the stagecoach. As Nathaniel mounted Hallow, he noticed that the blonde woman who’d sat with her back to him kept her face averted, using her hat to cover her eyes from him, as she got into the coach. Now that was unusual. Was she scared of him? Or was she ashamed of herself?

He didn’t want to think too much into it. He had more important things to worry about. Caleb had asked for his help, and he couldn’t wait around. Although he had a feeling whatever trouble Caleb had gotten into was going to drag him in as well.

Soon, they were on their way, the stagecoach traveling a little slower than it would be with the snow on the ground. Nathaniel kept up at a steady canter beside it, talking to Linwood as the young man chattered away about anything and everything. He was very eager to have someone to talk to, even if they didn’t say anything back.

After picking up the two men who’d been with Jonas and were waiting shivering on the side of the road, they continued on. It wasn’t long before they reached the ravine. It was along the side of a mountain with a steep drop on the other side. Nathaniel didn’t want to look down too far; it made him lightheaded and he had to grip onto his horse to stop himself from falling off.

“I think it would be better if you went first,” Jonas called back.

“Are you sure?”

“If I break down, at least I won’t be blocking your path.”

That was fair enough, although Nathaniel had a feeling he was being used to make sure it was safe. Nevertheless, he headed to the front and began to walk his horse along the path. Hallow didn’t seem too bothered that he was right by a steep drop, and Nathaniel forced himself to look ahead. He knew if he looked, he was going to end up steering Hallow toward the edge, and that would result in disaster. But he could see the snow out of the corner of his eye. It was beautiful, even with the clouds lower and casting fog everywhere.

The wind was beginning to pick up, and snow was falling faster. Nathaniel turned up the collar of his coat and hunched over. There was going to be another storm, he was sure of it. Hopefully, it could wait until they got to the other side.

But they were barely there when the storm truly hit. A huge gust of wind hit him, and Nathaniel was caught off-balance. Hallow snorted and stamped his feet as he stumbled, but Nathaniel kept him upright.

“It’s all right, boy,” he murmured, gripping on with his thighs as his heart raced. “We’re going to be fine.”

It didn’t feel like it, though, when he could hear the wind thundering in his ears and whipping around him. Nathaniel knew it would be a relief to get to the other side.

He did, eventually, and he turned to see how the stagecoach was doing. It seemed to be moving along well enough, although it did slide a little precariously toward the edge. He heard someone scream, but Jonas was able to get it back under control.

They were practically on solid ground by the time Jonas decided to get the horses to go faster. And suddenly the rear wheel cracked and broke, snapping cleanly and leaning the coach sharply to one side. Nathaniel’s heart almost stopped when it started to fall, Jonas trying desperately to keep it upright as the horses slipped and fell with their cargo. Linwood was thrown from the back, and he hit the snow and rolled, stopping precariously near the edge. He wasn’t getting up.

The stagecoach landed hard on its side and slid along the ground, eventually coming to a stop. Jonas had also been thrown, lying dazed on the ground by the fallen horses as they thrashed around. After a moment, he regained his senses and scrambled up, trying to get them free.

Nathaniel dismounted and ran over.

“Are you all right?” he shouted over the wind.

“Just get everyone out!” Jonas shouted back. “I’ll take care of this.”

Nathaniel didn’t need to be told twice. He could see some of the passengers scrambling out of the stagecoach, turning to reach back in for others. Some had been thrown before it overturned, and they were picking themselves up from the ground. He ran over to Linwood, who was rolling onto his back, closer to the edge. He grabbed the young man and pulled him away.

“Nothing broken?” he asked.

“I don’t think so,” Linwood groaned. He sat up. “What happened?”

“I’ll explain later. You need to help me. We’ve got to get everyone out of the wreckage.”

Leaving the younger man to try and figure out what was going on, Nathaniel hurried over to the stagecoach, climbing up onto the side. Two men were trying to reach inside.

“There’s a woman in there,” one of them cried. “She’s stuck.”

“Then I’m going in there.” Nathaniel nudged them out of the way. “Get ready to haul her out.”

He was surprised they hadn’t gone back in, but as he climbed inside, he felt the stagecoach rock and tilt a little. They were likely worried about being crushed. Given someone needed help, they didn’t have any choice.

It was the blonde woman, her skirt caught on a sharp chunk of wood sticking out of the side of the coach. She was tugging on it, but it wasn’t breaking off. Blood was coming from a wound on her forehead, and she didn’t look like she was completely comprehending the situation. Nathaniel wondered how hard she hit her head.

He reached over and brought out his knife, which he used to cut away the part of the skirt still attached. Once it came away, the woman gasped and fell back, landing on her back and moaning as she reached for her head.

“Come on!” Nathaniel reached for her. “I’ll lift you out!”

“I…I can’t…”

“You’ve got to! Hold onto me!”

Her hair was a mess, falling over her face, and what he could see of her face was as pale as the snow. She looked like she was going to pass out. Nathaniel lifted her up and stood on the seat, holding onto the door as he offered her up to the men above.

“Take her!”

They didn’t need to be told twice. She was pulled out of Nathaniel’s arms and through the door. Just as she moved out of sight and Nathaniel started to climb out himself, the stagecoach suddenly rocked, and he lost his footing. He fell, sprawling in the debris. Something exploded in his head, and there was a sudden searing pain in his eye.

Then everything went black.