its distraction, she grabbed the pick near her boots and came up swinging. The crunch shook her bones as the pick buried itself in the creature's skull. A wail of anger filled the small cabin as the creature stumbled under the impact, and Cora saw her chance. Leaping over a flailing leg, she rolled across the floor and made for the open door.
Once outside, she sprinted for Our Lady, who was pulling at her reins in a panic. Laying a hand on the mare's neck, Cora whispered a few words in her ear before drawing the Winchester from its saddle holster. She chambered a round and swung the rifle back toward the cabin. The hideous face gnashed its teeth at her through the open door. It seemed hesitant to follow her into the sunlight, which suited her just fine. The rifle butt kicked against her shoulder as she fired, and another wail of pain erupted from the cabin's interior.
Cora pumped the action and prepared to fire again, but when the smoke cleared, the creature was nowhere in sight. Keeping the gun raised, she approached the cabin. Mindful of the reach of those pale arms, she kept her distance from the open door and strafed back and forth, peering into the dark building.
Nothing.
Cora crept back through the cabin's door, rifle at the ready. The room was empty except for a trail of dark sludge leading back to the trap door. Cora allowed herself a small smile of victory. Whatever Jules Bartlett had become, she had driven it back into the cold darkness of the mines.
She recovered her saber and revolver from where they lay and emerged back into the sunlight. Her frightened mare was still fighting with the hitching post. Cora kept an eye on the cabin's door as she stroked Our Lady's neck, quieting her. She slid the rifle into the saddle sheath, untied the reins, and swung herself across the horse's back.
The mare needed no prompting to turn away from the cabin. Cora kept a steady hand on the reins to keep her from breaking into a gallop. Looking back over her shoulder, she thought she could make out a dark shape looming in the doorway. Her cold fingers pulled fresh rounds from her belt, ready to reload her revolver in the blink of an eye, but the shadow did not follow her into the mountain air.
When the cabin disappeared from sight, the chill started leaving her body, and Cora gave Our Lady more slack. The mare picked her way down the mountain as the hunter began kicking herself. She should have figured out that something was wrong long before the chill started digging into her bones. None of the lanterns in the cabin or the mine had been lit. None of her calls out to what she thought was an injured miner were answered. She had been so irritated by the thought of saving Jules from his own stupidity that she had nearly fallen victim to her own.
Our Lady descended further into the trees. Cora gave the mare's sides a soft punch with her heels, urging her to hurry back to town. She was sure she could hear the sounds of a warm fire and a bottle of whiskey calling her name.
FOUR
Ben Oglesby found his wife planted at a table in front of the Pioneer's big stone fireplace, her fingers wrapped around a near-empty bottle. Cora looked up as he approached, her face flushed from the liquor. In the firelight, he could see the thin scars running down her left cheek, white stripes on red. Her brown eyes squinted at him for a moment, then she broke into a lopsided grin.
"Well, ain't you a sight for sore eyes."
He sat in the chair next to her. "I hope I'm a sight better looking than old Jules."
To his surprise, she burst out laughing. "Time ain't made him no prettier, that's for damn sure."
A group of miners at a nearby table glanced their way. Ben offered them a small smile, then turned back to her. "So you saw him?"
"You could say that," she replied, then laughed again. "Saw him, shot at him, nearly got ate by him. We had ourselves a grand old time."
Ben stood and reached for her hand, a cautious smile beneath his mustache. "Let's get you back to the hotel."
"Ain't no fire there."
"We'll make one, then," Ben said. "Now come on."
She struggled to her feet, still clutching the bottle. "We got a fireplace in our room?"