“DON’T KILL ME, MOUNTAIN MAN… I’LL WARM YOUR BED!” – thuytien

He sat down opposite her, his gray eyes fixed. “Who were you running from? Why?” Clara gripped the mug. Fear crossed her face. She looked at her wallet, still by the fire. “Is that yours?” Bear asked. She nodded. “Those papers…
Men have killed for them. They’ll come for me.” Something changed in Bear’s expression. It wasn’t fear, but alertness. “How many? How close?” “I don’t know. They won’t stop.” Bear leaned back, arms crossed, his gaze hardened. “You should have gone east.” “Home? I can’t, not after what I saw.”
She told him everything: the murders, the forged deeds, the stolen land, the mayor’s last plea, the orphaned children, the names of the culprits. Bear listened without interrupting, his face a mask of stone, but his jaw tightened at certain names.
“Thornton, land theft, dead families, military signatures… You’re fighting something bigger than yourself.” “I have to try.” “What if it kills you?” “At least I’ll have done the right thing.” Bear looked at her for a long time. “Do you think the truth matters here?” “It has to.” He looked away, as if the answer stung.
A noise outside broke the silence. Bear moved to the window like a soldier. Clara held her breath. Nothing. But the woods were too quiet. Bear grabbed his rifle, checked the door, and turned off the lamp.
 “What’s wrong?” “Trouble. Move away from the window.” Clara crawled to the bed, clutching the furs. Bear loaded his rifle. “They found us.” Outside, a voice boomed, “Miss Whitmore, we know you’re there.” Clara’s blood ran cold. Bear narrowed his eyes.
 It was Cain’s gang. “Give us the girl, Mallister. She doesn’t have to die for someone else’s problems.” Bear didn’t answer. Clara whispered, “You should let me go.” Bear glared at her. “No, he’s right. They’re after me. You don’t have to die for something I caused.” “I decide why I die,” Bear retorted.
Bursts of laughter came from the darkness. “Come on, Mallister, we know a half-frozen teacher didn’t arrive alone.” Bear placed a revolver in Clara’s trembling hands. “Aim and squeeze. If anyone comes in, you shoot.”
 “I don’t know if I can.” “You can.” The first shot shook the cabin. Another shattered the window. Bear dragged Clara behind the wall, shielding her with his body. Smoke drifted in through the cracks.
“They want to burn us. We’re not staying here.” She ran to the center of the room, pulled back the rug, and revealed a trapdoor. “What’s that?” “An escape tunnel. Go down now.” Another shot shattered the glass.
Bear pushed her through the trapdoor. He climbed down after her just as boots thumped on the porch. The tunnel smelled of earth, the ceiling low. “I can’t,” Clara whispered. “Yes, you can.” Upstairs, men were screaming, the cabin was burning.
Clara crawled forward, fear and dirt in her hair. Finally, Bear pushed open the hatch and the snow showered them. They emerged into the open air. Behind them, the cabin was ablaze, flames illuminating the snow. They ran.
Clara stumbled, and Bear caught her. Gunfire echoed behind them. “Leave me alone. You can escape if you don’t take me.” “Do you think I save someone just to leave them behind? No.” They reached a ravine. “Let’s go down.” It was steep. “That’s why.” They slid down, the snow exploding around them.
 They didn’t stop until they reached the bottom. They raced down the canyon, the bandits’ horses thundering above. “You can’t run forever, Mallister. Give me the girl and you’ll die quickly.” Bear didn’t even flinch. “He talks too much.” Clara almost laughed.