Scully moved to the hearth, some distance away, and set the waiting firewood ablaze with another match. Both Abigail and Evangeline were drawn to its warmth, inconsequential as it was, in the face of that searing, bone-numbing cold.

“I’ll get the cookstove going, too,” Scully said. “It puts out more heat.”

Abigail, intrepid throughout a long and trying day, moved closer to Evangeline and grasped her hand. “Can the wolves get in, Mama?”

Before Evangeline could reply, Scully crossed the room and crouched in front of Abigail, taking her gently by the shoulders. “There isn’t a wolf alive that can get through these walls,” he said. “I’ll protect you, Abigail. You’ve got my word on that.”

Evangeline felt a thickening in her throat at Scully’s vow, and once again tears burned behind her eyes. She put the reaction down to excessive fatigue and the unrelenting strain of the journey westward, but even after she’d accounted for it, she was unable to speak.

“Will you take care of my mama, too?” Abigail asked innocently.

Scully, still crouching, looked up slowly and met Evangeline’s gaze. She was grateful for the dim light that must have made her expression as unreadable to him as his was to her. “No matter what,” he promised. Then he stood, addressing his words to Evangeline now. “There’s a pantry, with a few canned goods and some other supplies, if you want supper. You and Abigail can use that bed over there—I’ll bring in the bear hides, so you’ll be sure to keep warm.”

“Th-thank you,” Evangeline managed to say.

He lit another lamp, then another, each one revealing more of their surroundings, and then proceeded to the stove. Soon, he had a second fire going, and blessed heat radiated from that end of the house.

“I’ve got to go out and take care of those mules,” he said, making his way to the door. “You settle in as best you can. I know Big John would want you to make yourselves at home.”

“You’ll have supper with us?” Evangeline asked. She didn’t want to let him go, and not just because she was afraid of Indians, wolves and bandits.

She would have sworn he was blushing. “I’ve got some jerky out in the barn,” he said. “I’ll just say good night now, I reckon. Be sure to lower the latch behind me.”

“No!” Abigail protested, with vigor. “You’ve got to sleep in here. How can you protect Mama and me from the wolves if you’re someplace else?”

Evangeline touched Abigail’s small, tense shoulders. “Mr. Wainwright has things to do,” she said softly. “The walls of this cabin are very thick, Abigail.”

Abigail stood her ground, as she was wont to do, even at six. “You promised,” she insisted to Scully, in firm and accusatory tones, folding her arms to indicate that she would not be swayed.

Scully sighed. “That I did,” he agreed. “The barn is close by, Abigail. Nobody could bother you without my hearing or seeing them.”