Chapter 11

"You have lived here alone since your father died?" she asked."Three years alone," Ethan admitted, looking out over the silent pastures. "It gets quiet in the winter. A man starts talking to his horse just to hear a human voice."Aiyana offered a rare, soft laugh—a sound like a silver bell echoing across the cold snow fields."In my camp," Aiyana said, her voice dropping into a gentle, reflective tone, "a person is never alone. There are always grandmothers talking by the fire, children laughing in the drifts, and uncles arguing over hunting trails. Sometimes I wished for quiet."She paused, looking at Ethan with a warm, gentle intensity that made his chest feel tight."Now," Aiyana added softly, "I think quiet can be a good thing. If it is shared with the right person."Ethan met her gaze, his river-stone gray eyes shining with an honest, unreserved warmth. "I think so too, Aiyana."They looked at each other for a long, quiet second under the vast New Mexico sky, the distance between their two worlds continuing to shrink into a bond of quiet respect and growing affection.Suddenly, Ethan’s smile faded. His eyes narrowed as he caught sight of something moving near the timberline half a mile behind his ranch house.A dark column of thick, black smoke was beginning to rise into the clear blue sky above his chimney."Vance!" Ethan spat, his voice turning dark as iron.He didn't wait for another word. He dug his heels into his bay gelding's flanks, sending the heavy horse plunging down the snowy slope at a hard, dangerous gallop, kicking up clouds of white powder in his wake!Aiyana spurred her copper mare right behind him, her Springfield rifle held ready across her saddle bow!They burst through the pasture fence line five minutes later, pulling their horses to a sharp, sliding halt in the snow-covered yard outside the cabin.The front oak door of Ethan’s ranch house had been kicked off its iron hinges, lying broken on the wooden porch. Inside, the sound of heavy boots crashing through furniture and splintering wood echoed loudly into the yard.Three horses belonging to Vance’s men were tied to the hitching post outside the barn.Ethan slid from his saddle before his gelding had even come to a full stop. He pulled his Winchester rifle from its scabbard, working the lever with a sharp, lethal CLICK, and bounded up the porch stairs!"Vance!" Ethan roared, his voice booming through the open doorway like a cannon shot!Inside the living room, two hired hands who were furiously tearing down the stone mantelpiece with heavy iron crowbars spun around in terror!

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