Page 61 of Thunder Pass

Was that really necessary? It felt like a violation to see a weapon wielded in his shop. Risky, too…so many metal surfaces in here. Who knew where a bullet would ricochet to?

Nick advanced into the garage with silent footfalls. Gunnar followed, scanning the darker corners where someone might be able to hide. He thought he saw movement behind Frank Stetson’s four-by, which was waiting for his attention behind the lift.

He took a step forward, squinting into the shadows, then jumped as something darted out toward him. Not something—someone.

Before Gunnar could even react, Nick was swinging the gun around to aim at the intruder.

“No!” Gunnar flung his body between Nick and his target. His hip slammed against Ingrid Sonders’ Toyota, probably causing body damage to both it and him. “Don’t shoot.”

“I’m not shooting,” Nick said, irritated, as he reached out to grab the small figure darting past him. He grabbed onto a handful of clothing and stared down at the small person before him. “Who are you?”

Gunnar knew who it was, but the poor kid looked too frightened to say a word. “Noah. What are you doing here? Are you all right?” He turned to Nick, who still held him by the back of his jacket collar. “This is one of Ruth’s little brothers, Noah Chilkoot. You can let him go.”

“Not until I know what he’s doing here.” Nick gestured with his chin toward Gunnar’s office door. “Maybe he was the one.”

Good point. Had the Chilkoots sent Noah here to rummage in his office for some reason?

Gunnar crouched down before the kid, who he figured was about seven years old, though he didn’t know precisely. Although he knew Noah by sight, he’d never had a conversation with him. “What are you doing here, Noah? I’m a friend of your sister Ruth. Sarah too, actually. Are you looking for them?”

Noah glanced from Nick to Gunnar and back a few times. Nick tucked his gun into the back of his pants, out of sight. “Is Ruth here?” he finally asked in a small voice.

“She’s not here, but I know where she is. Do you want to talk to her?”

Noah nodded. Like all the other Chilkoots, he had red hair, though his shade of red was more carroty than most. Freckles sprinkled his face, and a bruise colored his jaw.

“I can take you to her. Or you can stay here while I go and get her.”

“I can get Ruth,” Nick said quickly, clearly aware that Noah would feel more comfortable without the man who’d aimed a gun at him.

But neither of them had to fetch Ruth, because just then the familiar roar of his Toyota V-8 engine interrupted them. A moment later, Ruth hurried into the garage, shading her eyes so they’d adjust to the lower light. As soon as she saw her little brother, she ran to him and crouched before him.

“Noah! What are you doing here? What’s going on? Does Auntie Magda know you’re here?”

“No.” Noah burst into tears. “I hid in the back of the truck under a tarp. No one knows where I am. You better not tell them!” He spat those words at Nick, who apparently had now attained villain status in his eyes.

Nick raised his palms. “I won’t tell a soul, you have my word.”

“Me too,” said Gunnar, offering a boy scout pledge gesture.

“Did you run away?” Ruth asked her brother, her gaze landing on the bruise that Gunnar had noticed too. She touched it lightly. “What happened?”

“We want to stay with you.” Noah wiped away a tear, leaving a smear of dirt across his cheek. “Everyone’s being really mean to us and we’re scared. We snuck out of Jared’s truck when it stopped here for gas. Can we stay with you?”

“We?” Ruth’s eyes widened. “What do you mean, ‘we’?”

Noah put his fingers to his mouth and gave a whistle. All around the garage, small figures emerged from their hiding places behind work benches and broken vehicles and cases of motor oil.

Gunnar cringed, thinking of all the ways they could get hurt while hiding in his garage with no supervision. Fortunately, they all seemed to have intact limbs and all their fingers.

They made their way to Noah’s side. Six kids, seven counting Noah. All of them looking to Ruth as if she was their only hope.

29

No wonder she hadn’t seen any kids at the compound, except for Miller. As the children swarmed around her, Ruth bent to hug them close, giving each a quick once-over to see if any harm had come to them since she’d last seen them. Lilith had a cold, but then she often did; she had allergies that acted up this time of year. Mercy had a scraped knee, visible under a tear in her pants, but again, that was nothing unusual.

As she took her inventory of injuries, she realized that only the younger children had run away from the compound. Miller, obviously, was still there, as was Jeb, who was twelve. Derby, fifteen. In fact, no one over the age of ten had left.

“Can we stay with you, Auntie Ruth?” Mercy asked as she twisted her braid around her hand—a familiar nervous habit.

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