If they show up here, you stay inside, Cole said. Nia's dark eyes met his. You fight them if I have to. His voice was steady, but she could hear the edge under it. They finished the fence just before sundown and headed back to the cabin.
When Cole struck a match and lit the lamp, he noticed Nia watching him closely as if weighing whether to speak. "You take me to town?" she asked quietly. Cole looked at her for a long moment. "Not yet," he said. Not till I know it's safe.
She didn't argue, but something in her shoulders eased as though she'd been afraid he might send her away. That night, Cole cooked beans and salt pork while Nia sat at the table mending one of his torn work shirts. She worked with quick, sure hands, and when she was done, she set the shirt neatly on the table in front of him. "You so better than I do," he said. Her mouth almost curved into a smile, but she only said, "My mother, teach me." When the fire burned low, Cole rolled out his bed roll on the floor instead of taking the cot.
Nia looked at him surprised. "You sleep there? C's yours tonight." Cole said simply. She hesitated, then lay down on the cot, still wrapped in his coat. It was the first time she'd slept off the floor since she came.
Cole stayed awake longer than he meant to, listening to the sounds of the night. The crickets outside, the soft hiss of the fire, the slow rhythm of her breathing as it finally evened out. He felt the old habit of watchfulness settle over him. The one that had kept him alive on scouting missions years ago. But tonight, it felt different.
He wasn't just guarding himself. He was guarding her, too. Before he finally closed his eyes, he made a decision. Tomorrow he would ride to town, quiet, just to see who was hanging around and if anyone was talking about her, if there was trouble coming, he needed to know before it reached his door. For now, the cabin was still.
The fear in her face was fading bit by bit. And though he wouldn't say it out loud, that was enough reason to keep her here another day. Cole was up before dawn the next day. The air outside was still and cold enough that his breath showed. He saddled the horse in silence, checking the cinch twice, then came back inside.
"Nia was awake, sitting on the edge of the cot with the coat still around her shoulders." "You ride?" she asked. "Just in a town," Cole said, pulling on his hat. "I need to see who's hanging around." Her jaw tightened. "Clay." "Maybe," Cole said. "Better I find out than wait for him to come here." Nia stood as if ready to go with him, but Cole shook his head.
"Safer if you stay put. Keep a doorb rifles behind the table if you need it. She hesitated, then nodded once, her face pale but steady. The ride into town was quiet, the sky turning pale gold as the sun came up over the hills. Cole kept his shoulders loose, but every sound made him check the horizon.
When he reached the main street, the town was waking slow, a couple of wagons moving hay, someone sweeping outside the general store. He tied his horse near the feed lot and walked down the boardwalk toward the saloon. The place smelled of stale whiskey, even from outside. Inside, the bartender looked up, surprised to see him this early. Cole bought coffee and took a seat near the back where he could see the door.
It wasn't long before he spotted them. Two boys, about 20, laughing too loud, one of them with hair too long under a sweatstained hat. Clay. Cole recognized him from roundups years back. The same smirk, the same mean glint in the eye.
They didn't notice Cole right away, but when they did, the laughter cut short. Clay squared his shoulders and said just loud enough to be heard. Look who crawled in. Heard you've been keeping a pet up at your place. Cold didn't move.
Didn't blink. You got something to say? Say it. Clay grinned. She's a wild one, ain't she?
Should have seen her run. We was just having some fun. Cole stood slowly, set the tin cup down. The room went quiet except for the sound of boots shifting on the floor. You come near my land again, you won't walk away.
Cole said, voice flat as iron. Clay's grin slipped but didn't vanish. You think you can keep her? Cole's hand hovered near his gun, but didn't draw. I think you should finish your drink and ride the other direction.
The bartender cleared his throat and muttered, "Boys, take it outside or take it somewhere else." Clay glanced at his friend, then spat near the stove and walked out, the door slamming behind him. Cole waited a long minute before following, making sure they were headed out of town. He didn't like leaving them behind angry, but at least he knew their faces now, and that meant he could be ready. By the time he rode back, the sun was high. He spotted smoke from the chimney before he reached the cabin.
Nia was outside, crouched near the garden patch, a stick in her hand, turning the soil. "She stood quickly when she saw him." "You saw them?" she asked. "I saw them," Cole said, sliding off the horse. Her eyes were searching his face. "They come here." "Not yet," Cole said.
"Might try, but they know I'm watching." Nia's shoulders eased a little, though she still gripped the stick like a weapon. Come inside, Cole said. I brought flour. We can make bread. It was a small thing, but she followed him in, set the stick by the door, and washed her hands.
Together, they mixed the dough at the table, her hands working next to his. For the first time since she'd come, there was a trace of calm in her face. After the bread went in the stove, Cole showed her how to load the rifle properly. She listened carefully, her brow furrowed. And when she tried it herself, she handled it steady.
No shake in her hands. That's good, Cole said. Only if you need to. I know, Nia said quietly. That night, they ate the fresh bread with beans and sat near the fire.