PART 2: THE SECRET BENEATH THE WOUND

“DOWN!”

Julian’s shout came a fraction of a second before the mountainside erupted.

Aurelia barely had time to turn.

A heavy branch snapped above them, followed by a shower of ice and broken timber. Julian lunged forward, throwing his body between her and the falling debris.

Something struck her left leg.

Pain flashed through her so sharply that her knees buckled.

When the noise finally stopped, Aurelia was lying in the snow, gasping.

“Don’t move!” Julian shouted.

He pushed a fallen branch aside and dropped beside her.

“Can you hear me?”

“I believe so,” she managed. “Although I may have changed my mind about this mountain.”

He almost smiled, but then his eyes fell to her leg.

A broken piece of timber had torn through her skirt and left a deep wound along her upper thigh. Blood was spreading through the fabric.

Julian’s expression changed immediately.

“Can you stand?”

“I can try.”

“No. You’re not trying anything.”

He lifted her carefully, carried her away from the unstable slope, and settled her against a sheltered rock.

Then he examined the wound.

Aurelia saw the knife in his hand and went pale.

“What are you doing?”

“There’s something caught in there.”

“Something?”

“Wood. Maybe more.”

He took a strip of clean linen from his pack.

Aurelia stared at the smoking cloth he had prepared.

“Why is that smoking?”

“To clean the cloth.”

“And the knife?”

“To remove anything that shouldn’t be there.”

She looked from the knife to his face.

“Julian, tell me you aren’t putting that inside my leg.”

His eyes met hers.

“I won’t do anything without telling you first. But the wound needs attention, and we need to get you somewhere warm.”

She swallowed.

“Then tell me what you’re doing.”

For the first time since they had met, Julian seemed to understand that his quiet instructions were not enough.

He explained each step before carefully cleaning and dressing the injury. Aurelia gripped his sleeve, breathing through the pain.

When he finished, he wrapped his coat around her shoulders.

“You did well,” he said.

“I screamed.”

“You’re allowed.”

Something about those two words nearly brought her to tears.

Julian lifted her into his arms and carried her the rest of the way to the cabin.

By the time they arrived, darkness had swallowed the mountains.

Julian settled Aurelia near the hearth and hurried to prepare warm water, blankets, and food.

She watched him move around the cabin.

He was not graceful. His movements were large and practical, as though every object had been designed for someone smaller than him.

But he was careful.

He checked her bandage, brought her water, and made sure she was warm enough before tending to his own scraped hands.

“You’ve done this before,” Aurelia said.

He looked up.

“Taken care of an injured person?”

“Yes.”

A shadow crossed his face.

“My younger sister.”

Aurelia waited.

“She was caught in a winter storm when we were children. I couldn’t get help in time.”

His voice became quieter.

“After that, I learned what I could about surviving out here.”

Aurelia looked down at her bandaged leg.

“I’m sorry.”

Julian nodded once and returned to the stove.

Neither spoke for several minutes.

Then Aurelia noticed something.

A small wooden cradle stood beside the far wall. It was covered with a clean blanket, though there was no sign of a child living in the cabin.

“Do you have children?” she asked.

Julian turned.

“No.”

“Then why the cradle?”

He stared at it for a long moment.

“My sister made it. Before she died.”

Aurelia looked at the delicate carving along its sides.

“She must have loved children.”

“She did.”

He walked over and ran a hand along the wooden edge.

“She always said a house wasn’t a home until somebody had a reason to laugh inside it.”

Aurelia looked around the quiet cabin.

“And you decided not to give it one?”

Julian didn’t answer.

But for the first time, she saw something beneath his rugged exterior that had nothing to do with strength.

Loneliness.

The following morning, Aurelia woke to the smell of coffee.

Julian was outside chopping wood.

She tried to stand and immediately regretted it.

“Don’t.”

His voice came from the doorway.

He had returned carrying an armful of firewood.

“You need to stay off that leg.”

“I cannot spend the rest of my life sitting beside your fireplace.”

“Wasn’t planning on making you.”

She frowned.

“Then what exactly were you planning?”

Julian set the wood down.

“To marry you, if you still want to.”

Aurelia stared at him.

He continued, “The agreement brought you here. It doesn’t mean you owe me anything. If you decide you want to return east when you’re healed, I’ll arrange it.”

She hadn’t expected that.

Every man she had ever encountered seemed to believe that a woman’s agreement was something he could use against her.

Julian was offering her a choice.

“Why did you agree to marry me?” she asked.

He looked toward the window.

“Your letter.”

“My letter?”

“You wrote that you wanted a place where people judged you by what you did, not how you looked.”

Aurelia lowered her eyes.

“I wrote that because I was tired of being treated like a curiosity.”

Julian nodded.

“I know what it’s like to have people decide who you are before you’ve said a word.”

Before she could respond, three loud knocks interrupted them.

Julian’s expression hardened.

Nobody visited his cabin in winter.

He opened the door.

A man in a dark coat stood on the porch, snow gathered across his shoulders.

“Mr. Boone,” the stranger said. “I’m looking for a woman named Aurelia Phillips.”

Aurelia went still.

Julian stepped into the doorway.

“Who wants to know?”

The stranger removed his gloves.

“I’m Mr. Harlan, from the Denver employment office. I arranged Miss Phillips’s journey here.”

Aurelia frowned.

“Why have you come?”

Harlan looked past Julian.

“Because I need to speak with you privately. There’s been a serious mistake.”

Julian didn’t move.

“What mistake?”

The stranger hesitated.

Then he reached into his coat and produced a folded document.

“Miss Phillips was never supposed to marry you.”

The cabin seemed to fall silent.

Aurelia stared at the paper.

“What are you talking about?”

Harlan unfolded it.

“Your marriage arrangement was altered before the stagecoach departed. The man who originally requested your profile was not Julian Boone.”

Julian’s pale eyes narrowed.

“Who was it?”

Harlan looked directly at Aurelia.

“Your uncle, Mr. Phillips.”

Aurelia felt the color drain from her face.

“My uncle died four years ago.”

Harlan swallowed.

“That’s what everyone was told.”

He placed the document on the table.

“But someone has been using his name, and there’s a reason he wanted you sent to these mountains.”

Julian looked at Aurelia.

For the first time, she saw genuine alarm in his eyes.

Then Harlan added one final sentence.

“Your uncle didn’t send you here to find a husband, Miss Phillips. He sent you here because he believed something was hidden beneath this mountain—and he thought you were the only person who could find it.”

END OF PART 2 — THE TRUTH IS ONLY BEGINNING.