Klondike’s Price
Copyright© 2026 by Heel
Chapter 7: The Silver Coin
Snow fell softly through the gray morning light when Vanessa awoke. Her body was stiff and cold, her legs heavy and useless beneath her. The sled lay overturned nearby, the huskies restless and whining against their harnesses.
She tried to move, but the pain stopped her short. The gold pouch was half-buried in the snow beside her, its contents spilled in a crooked trail behind her fall. For the first time since leaving the cabin, she began to cry — not from the pain, but from the sheer weight of it all.
Then she heard it — the crunch of boots on snow. Slow, steady, drawing closer.
She looked up, blinking against the light. A figure was coming down the slope, wrapped in a fur coat, rifle slung across his back. For a heartbeat she thought it was a dream, or maybe some ghost sent to collect her.
But then the voice reached her, low and calm.
“Easy now,” he said. “You’ll hurt yourself worse trying to move.”
It was Bill.
Vanessa’s heart stuttered. She stared, unable to speak. He was pale and unsteady, his coat darkened where the bullet had struck — but he was alive. He knelt beside her, snow dusting his beard, and managed a faint smile.
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