Free Claim: A Novel of Colorado (The Homeward Trilogy) by Lisa T. Bergren

breathless laugh. “Why me?” He pointed to the cabin over her shoulder. “I didn’t even know that child until a week ago!”
    “Keep your voice down,” she said tightly. Sinopa took a step forward and she lifted a hand up, as if sensing his approach from behind her.
    Was she afraid? Of Nic? Nic frowned in confusion. No woman had ever been afraid of him. He thought back. She’d been married to—
    “Everett is at an age,” she said in her smooth, low tone, “that he needs a man to show him how to be a man. I would do him little good.”
    “I don’t know about that,” he said, forcing his own voice an octave lower, calmer. “That child has never had a mother, as far as I understand it. And why can’t Sinopa—”
    “Sinopa is soon off again. He’s a trapper, and these mountains have long been trapped out.” She shook her head and clenched her lips. “It is best the boy remains with you. He will be missing his father. When school begins in a month, I’ll take him to town with me.”
    “You–you’re the schoolmarm?” He barely contained his laugh.
    “I am.” She moved slightly, a vague, subtle change. Defensiveness. Nic had spent enough time in the ring to know it anywhere. He tried to recover his composure.
    “Well … well,” he sputtered, trying to figure out a way to explain his response, “you’re … a long way from town.” There. That covered his tracks.
    She studied him a moment longer, and Nic shifted uneasily. “I live here through the fall, then head down come the first real snows.”
    Nic hesitated. He didn’t know if he’d like being up here in the Gulch, all by himself all winter. He’d seen the schoolhouse. It was across the creek from the main portion of town, in a tall white building. “So … you just give up on your mine come winter? I thought the most stalwart miners worked all winter long.”
    It was her turn to cover a wry smile. “I’m not a miner. I am here for this.…” She paused, gestured behind him, as if the mountains beyond told him what she wanted to say, then turned and walked into the cabin, Sinopa right behind her.
    Nic glanced over his shoulder. It was getting darker by the minute, a few of the brightest stars now visible, the silhouette of the mountains appearing black against the sky’s purple. She stayed here because of the view?
    He took a few steps, looking back toward the cabin, and then saw Sabine through the open doorway with her arm draped around Everett’s shoulders, staring downward alongside him. Probably at Peter’s forever-still body, stretched out on the floor.
    Nic tried to cut short his shiver.
    Who were these people to him? Why not walk away? Why did he feel this strange pull of responsibility, kinship, connection? If he left now, he could get down to town and spend the night, then head out in the morning. He’d be to Odessa’s by tomorrow night, or the next day for sure.
    He turned and took a few steps toward Daisy, who was still tied to a post out in front of the cabin. If he left now, before Everett or even Sabine was depending on him, it would be better for all of them. Who was he to take on a kid? A mine? All he’d been looking for was work with a promising glimpse of a coming payout. Without Peter, there was no way, no way he could do it. He’d get to town, find a boxing match. Take on a few rounds, win, and at least have some money in his pocket when he left town.
    He reached for Daisy’s reins and glanced up, to see if his neighbors were watching him out the window. But they weren’t. Sinopa stood by the fireplace, staring at the flames. Everett was in Sabine’s arms sobbing—he could see the scene now, through the thick panes of glass—as she stroked his small back and held him tight.
    Nic stilled, transfixed. There was something about her anguished look, the child’s grief that kept him from moving. He remembered crying like that, once. When was the last time?
    When his father came to him and told him that his