Chapter 7 - The Dawn at the Window
The morning sun rose over the Rocky Mountains in a brilliant flare of pink, gold, and turquoise, illuminating the fresh snow of Ashborne Ridge until the entire valley looked as though it had been dusted with crushed diamonds.
Inside the small cabin on Oak Street, the air was warm for the first time in three winters.
Caspian’s men had brought up two large portable propane heaters at four in the morning, along with four boxes of fresh groceries, dry firewood, three thick wool blankets, and a doctor from the valley clinic who was currently examining Mara Vale in the bedroom.
Eloen sat at the small pine table, her face clean, her dark hair brushed and tied back with a blue ribbon that one of the legal assistants had found in her kit. She had a plate in front of her containing fried eggs, three slices of crispy bacon, and two thick pieces of toast covered in yellow butter and strawberry jam.
She was eating slowly, as if she were afraid that if she ate too fast, the food—and the warm room—would vanish back into the cold grey mist of the day before.
The bedroom door opened, and Dr. Evans stepped out, pulling off his stethoscope. Caspian, who had been sitting near the small stove reading through legal briefs on his tablet, stood up immediately.
“How is she?” Caspian asked.
“Severe exhaustion, mild malnutrition, and a deep bronchial infection,” Dr. Evans said, wiping his glasses. “If she’d gone another week in this cold without proper food or medicine, it would have turned into full double pneumonia. But we caught it in time. I’ve administered a strong antibiotic, and I’ve got two oxygen concentrators coming up from Glenwood today.”
Eloen stopped chewing, her toast halfway to her mouth. “Is Grandma going to die?”
Dr. Evans smiled down at the girl, his eyes kind behind his thick lenses. “Not today, little one. Not tomorrow, either. Your grandmother’s going to be complaining about the weather again by Friday.”
Eloen let out a long breath she seemed to have been holding since yesterday afternoon, her shoulders dropping two inches as she smiled for the first time.
Caspian walked over to the table and sat opposite her. “Eloen?”
“Yes, Mr. Caspian?”
“There are some people coming up the hill today,” he said gently. “They are going to fix your roof. They are going to put in a new furnace, new windows, and proper doors so the wind doesn't get in.”
Eloen looked around the small, bare room. “Are we going to have to leave?”
“No,” Caspian said firm. “You are never going to have to leave. This house is yours. Forever.”
He pulled a thick, official-looking document with a gold wax seal from his coat pocket and set it gently beside her plate.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“That,” Caspian said, “is the title to this house and the four acres around it. Free and clear. No taxes, no store debts, no Gideon Pike.”
Eloen looked at the gold seal, then reached out a small finger to touch the cool wax. “Did you buy it with your silver dollar?”
Caspian paused. A faint, genuine smile touched the corners of his mouth—a look his business rivals in New York had never seen.
“No,” Caspian said softly. “You bought it with yours.”
May you like
Before Eloen could ask another question, the heavy front door creaked open again. Officer Vance stood on the threshold, holding a large, wrapped parcel in his arms and looking thoroughly uncomfortable.
“Mr. Thorne?” Vance said, stepping inside after wiping his boots carefully on the mat. “I... I brought something for the child.”
