PART 2

Elias slept badly.

He always did indoors.

Walls were too close.

Every sound carried.

A door closing.

A floorboard settling.

Someone coughing two rooms away.

He preferred the mountains because the mountains never pretended to be quiet.

At dawn, he went downstairs.

Nora Vale was already waiting.

A cup of coffee sat before her.

Beside it lay a map.

Not a printed map.

A hand-drawn one.

Elias stopped.

He had seen hundreds of maps.

Most were wrong.

Some were wrong because the surveyor had never walked the country.

Others were wrong because the man drawing them had never bothered to look twice.

This one was different.

The ridges were accurate.

The water crossings were marked.

The elevation changes were carefully noted.

And several routes had been drawn in a darker ink.

Elias pulled out a chair.

“Where did you get this?”

“I drew it.”

He looked at her.

“By yourself?”

“Over three years.”

She pushed the map toward him.

“My husband ran freight through the mountains.”

Elias’s eyes returned to the paper.

“You kept his records?”

“Every one.”

There was something in the way she said husband that told him the man was ᴅᴇᴀᴅ.

He didn’t ask how.

Nora pointed toward the northern ridge.

“The mining company expanded three camps this year. Nearly two hundred men will remain there through winter.”

Elias followed the route with his finger.

“Their current contractor can’t reach them.”

“Not reliably.”

“Why?”

“They use the main pᴀss.”

Elias looked at her.

“The main pᴀss will close before November.”

“I know.”

“You’ll lose half your loads.”

“I know.”

He studied the map again.

Then stopped.

His finger rested on a narrow line between two ridges.

“This.”

Nora looked at him.

“What about it?”

“Where did you learn this trail?”

“The old freight logs.”

“Who showed your husband?”

“I don’t know.”

Elias’s eyes narrowed.

“Most men in this territory don’t know this cut exists.”

“My husband used it twice.”

“He shouldn’t have.”

“Why?”

“Because the trail was abandoned before I came north.”

She studied him.

“Why?”

Elias didn’t answer immediately.

Because he knew exactly why.

The trail crossed a ravine where snow could bury a wagon in minutes.

But if a man knew the land, there was another route.

A narrow shelf beneath the ridge.

Hidden from the main trail.

Dangerous.

Fast.

And almost impossible to see unless you already knew where to look.

Nora tapped the map.

“This is the route I want to use.”

Elias looked at her.

“You’ll kill your mules.”

“No.”

“You’ll lose freight.”

“No.”

“You’ll have to cross this ridge before dawn.”

“I know.”

He leaned back.

“Then why are you asking me?”

She met his eyes.

“Because the company won’t give me the contract.”

“Why?”

Her expression didn’t change.

“They want a man’s name on it.”

Elias said nothing.

“They rejected my first proposal because I was a woman.”

She turned a page in her notebook.

“The second disappeared.”

“The third?”

“They said they would reconsider if I found a male partner.”

“And you chose me.”

“I chose the man who knows the mountains.”

Elias stared at her.

“I don’t take partners.”

“I know.”

“I don’t work for mining companies.”

“I know.”

“I don’t stay in towns.”

“I know that too.”

She closed the notebook.

“Then don’t think of it as partnership.”

“What should I think of it as?”

“A name.”

He frowned.

“My name goes on the contract.”

“Yes.”

“You run the operation.”

“Yes.”

“You take the money.”

“Yes.”

“Then what do I get?”

Nora hesitated.

“Half the freight profit for the first two runs.”

Elias almost smiled.

“You’re prepared.”

“I’ve had eighteen months to prepare.”

She spread the documents across the table.

Mules.

Feed.

Storage.

Emergency shelters.

Weight limits.

Fuel.

Replacement supplies.

Everything had been calculated.

Not guessed.

Calculated.

Elias read every page.

Forty minutes pᴀssed.

Nora waited.

Finally he looked up.

“You’ve done all this without a man.”

“I’ve done it without the right man.”

That answer stayed with him.

He looked toward the window.

The snow had stopped.

The mountains were visible again.

Cold.

White.

Waiting.

“All right.”

Nora didn’t smile.

She simply reached for another paper.

“You’ll need to sign here.”

Elias stared at the contract.

Then signed.

The company agent arrived two days later.

His name was Mr. Caldwell.

He spent the first fifteen minutes speaking to Elias as if Nora wasn’t in the room.

“Mr. Crowe, your experience in the high country is exactly what we need.”

Elias said nothing.

Caldwell continued.

“The company will trust your judgment regarding the route.”

Nora’s fingers тιԍнтened around her pencil.

Elias noticed.

Caldwell hadn’t even looked at her map.

Finally Nora spoke.

“The route was my design.”

Caldwell blinked.

“I beg your pardon?”

She turned the map toward him.

“I designed the freight schedule, calculated the winter loads, marked the emergency shelters, and identified the lower crossings.”

Caldwell glanced at Elias.

“Mr. Crowe?”

Elias looked at him.

“She’s right.”

Silence.

Caldwell’s eyes moved back to the map.

For the first time, he actually studied it.

Minutes pᴀssed.

Then he noticed the hidden route.

His expression changed.

“Where did you get this?”

Nora answered:

“My husband.”

Caldwell looked uneasy.

“Your husband knew this trail?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

She folded her hands.

“I never asked.”

Elias looked at the map again.

There was something strange about the route.

Not the trail itself.

The markings.

Three places were circled.

Three locations that looked like emergency shelters.

But Elias knew those places.

They weren’t shelters.

They were abandoned supply caches.

Old ones.

Hidden years ago.

And someone had been using them recently.

He leaned closer.

“Nora.”

She looked at him.

“Who else knows about these?”

“No one.”

Elias pointed to the first mark.

“This cache was opened.”

She frowned.

“When?”

“I don’t know.”

He pointed to the second.

“This one too.”

Her face changed.

“And the third?”

Elias looked at her.

“Someone has been moving through your route.”

The room suddenly felt colder.

Caldwell stood.

“I think we should postpone the signing.”

Elias didn’t look at him.

“No.”

Caldwell froze.

Elias’s finger moved across the map.

“Someone already knows this route.”

Nora’s voice dropped.

“How?”

Elias stared at the dark lines she had drawn.

Then at the name on the freight contract.

Then toward the mountains beyond the window.

Because there was only one reason someone would risk using abandoned caches along a route that almost nobody knew existed.

They weren’t moving freight.

They were moving something they didn’t want found.

Elias had spent seven years running from the last trail that had ended in blood.

Now he was staring at another map.

Another hidden route.

Another secret.

And for the first time in seven years, he recognized the pattern.

Someone had deliberately brought him back to the mountains.

Someone knew exactly what he had been running from.

And Nora Vale’s map might be the only thing that could lead him to the truth.