Seth lay beside a fallen pine, his small body twisted at an unnatural angle.
Blood streaked the snow beneath his left leg.
Cora dropped to her knees.
"Seth."
His face was gray with pain.
"I didn't—I didn't mean—"
"Don't move."
Caleb stood a few feet away, shaking.
"He climbed the ridge. I told him not to. I tried to stop him."
Cora saw what had happened.
Seth had crossed beyond the split pine and climbed onto a snow-covered ledge.
The drift had hidden a broken branch beneath it.
When the crust gave way, he had fallen nearly six feet.
A jagged limb had sliced through his trousers along the calf.
The wound was deep.
Too deep.
Cora's fear sharpened into purpose.
She had treated playground cuts, broken fingers, fevers, and one fractured wrist during her teaching years.
Nothing like this.
Still, panic would help no one.
"Seth, look at me."
His eyes found hers.
"I need you to be brave."
"I'm bleeding."
"I know."
"I'm gonna die."
"No."
She said it with such certainty that even she almost believed it.
"You're going to listen to me."
She tore fabric from her underskirt and pressed it firmly against the wound.
Seth screamed.
Caleb flinched.
"Cora!"
"I know. I'm sorry. But I have to stop the bleeding."
She looked at Caleb.
"Run to your father."
"I can't leave Seth."
"You are helping Seth by getting Wyatt."
Caleb hesitated.
"Go!"
He ran.
Cora's hands were already red.
Seth began crying.
Not the defiant tears of a child angry about punishment.
Small, terrified sobs.
"Cora?"
"I'm here."
"Don't leave."
Her heart broke open.
"I won't."
"You promise?"
"I promise."
She leaned over him, shielding him from the snow.
"I am right here."
Minutes later, branches crashed nearby.
Wyatt appeared running.
The sight of his son on the ground transformed him.
"Cora?"
"Deep cut. Maybe a broken leg. He's lost blood."
Wyatt knelt.
Seth reached toward him.
"Pa."
"I'm here, boy."
Wyatt's hands were steady, but Cora saw terror in his eyes.
Together they wrapped the wound tighter.
Wyatt lifted Seth.
The boy screamed.
Cora ran beside them all the way to the house.
For the next several hours, the entire household revolved around keeping Seth alive.
There was no doctor nearby.
Pine Hollow's physician was more than twelve miles down a mountain road already half-buried by snow.
Wyatt saddled his fastest horse.
"I'll bring him."
Cora looked toward Seth.
"What if the storm closes the road?"
"Then I'll make my own."
"Wyatt—"
He grabbed her shoulders.
It was the first time he had touched her with urgency.
"Can you stay with him?"
Cora looked into his eyes.
"Yes."
"Keep him warm. Keep pressure on the wound."
"I know."
He released her.
Then looked toward Caleb.
"Stay inside."
The older boy nodded.
Wyatt vanished into the storm.
Night fell.
Seth developed chills.
Cora sat beside him, wiping sweat from his forehead.
Caleb stood in the doorway.
"It's my fault."
"No."
"Pa told me to watch him."
"Your father told Seth not to cross that tree."
"I should've stopped him."
"You're ten years old, Caleb."
"I'm his brother."
"Yes. Not his jailer."
Caleb looked down.
"He doesn't listen."
"I've noticed."
For the first time, Caleb gave the smallest smile.
Then it vanished.
"What if he dies?"
Cora's throat tightened.
"He won't."
"You don't know that."
No.
She didn't.
But children sometimes needed certainty more than truth.
"I know your brother is stubborn enough to argue with death itself."
Caleb came closer to the bed.
Seth's eyes opened weakly.
"Cal?"
"I'm here."
"You tell Pa?"
"Yeah."
"He's gonna kill me."
Cora almost laughed despite herself.
"If you survive this just to be killed by your father, I'll be very annoyed."
Seth looked at her.
Then, faintly, smiled.
Near midnight they heard horses.
Wyatt burst through the door with Doctor Hale.
The physician examined Seth.
Cora waited downstairs with Caleb.
Every sound from upstairs made her heart stop.
Finally, the doctor appeared.
"The bone isn't broken."
Cora nearly collapsed with relief.
"The wound is serious, but the branch missed the main artery. If infection doesn't set in, he'll recover."
"If?"
Doctor Hale nodded grimly.
"The next few days matter."
Wyatt came downstairs sometime before sunrise.
He sat at the kitchen table.
Cora placed coffee beside him.
Neither spoke.
After a long silence Wyatt said, "He called for you."
She looked up.
"During the stitching."
"What?"
"Seth kept asking where Cora was."
Something inside her shifted.
Wyatt rubbed his hands over his face.
"I should've watched him."
"You were working."
"I knew he was reckless."
"He disobeyed."
"My responsibility."
Cora sat opposite him.
"You blame yourself exactly like Caleb does."
Wyatt looked toward her.
"You're both wrong."
He studied her bloodstained dress.
"You ran out without a coat."
"I didn't notice."
"You were barefoot."
Cora looked down.
She had not realized until then that she had lost one shoe.
Wyatt's eyes softened.
"You promised no wife duties."
Cora tried to smile.
"Apparently emergency rescue was hidden in the contract."
He didn't laugh.
Instead, he said quietly, "Thank you."
Those two words carried more weight than anything else he had ever said to her.
Seth survived the first night.
Then the second.
On the third day, fever arrived.
Cora barely slept.
She prepared broth, changed bandages, cooled his forehead, and sat beside his bed reading stories whenever he was awake.
Caleb brought wood.
Wyatt handled everything else.
By the fifth morning, Seth's fever broke.
Cora woke with her head resting on the mattress beside him.
A small hand touched her hair.
She lifted her head.
Seth was awake.
"Hey."
"Hey yourself."
"Water?"
She helped him drink.
When she settled him again, he whispered, "You stayed."
Cora froze.
"You asked me to."
"People say things."
"I meant it."
He considered that.
"My mama used to stay when I was sick."
Cora swallowed.
"I'm not trying to replace her."
Seth stared at the blanket.
"I know."
After a moment, he held out his hand.
Cora took it.
Downstairs, Wyatt stood near the foot of the staircase.
He had heard everything.
Cora did not know it.
Not yet.