I try, she said. You did fine last night, Cole said. That brought the faintest hint of a smile to her lips. Small but real. By evening, the cabin felt different.
Less like a place they were hiding in, more like a place they were both holding together. Cole sharpened his knife at the table while Nia mended another shirt. And when the wind outside shifted again, they both looked toward the door at the same time, ready. Whatever came next, they wouldn't face it as strangers anymore. The day after the men came, the air felt heavier, as if the whole place was holding its breath.
Cole noticed that when he stepped out at dawn, the sky was flat and gray. No breeze in the cottonwoods. Even the horse moved slower, ears turning toward the ridge every few minutes. Inside the cabin, Nia was already awake, sitting cross-legged near the fire with the coat pulled around her. She didn't look as tense as she had the night before, but her eyes followed him when he moved, as if making sure he was really still there.
Cole brought in water from the well and set it to boil. We'll stay close today, he said. No need to ride out far. Just keep watch. Nia nodded.
I watched too, she said, and went to the door, scanning the yard the way he did. For most of the morning, they worked without speaking. She helped gather kindling, ground some of the new flour for bread and swept the porch until the boards were clear of dust. Cole stayed near the corral, repairing a loose rail and keeping an ear out for anything moving along the tree line. By midday, the sky had darkened enough that Cole decided they'd better bring everything in undercover.
Nia helped him carry tools to the shed. Her hands dirty, but steady. "You're not scared?" she asked quietly as they stacked the last of the firewood near the cabin. "Scared enough," Cole said. "Just don't let it make me stupid." She was quiet a moment, then said, "You stand there with your rifle.
You didn't shake." Cole paused, leaning against the doorframe. I shook plenty on the inside, he admitted that made her look at him differently, softer, almost relieved to know he wasn't made of stone. The rain started just before dark, light at first and then steady. They stayed inside, the sound of water on the roof filling the room. Nia sat on the cot, brushing her wet hair with her fingers.
Cole sat at the table, carving a new handle for the shovel with his knife. After a long time, Nia said, "You fought for me." Cole didn't look up. "You didn't need to see them take another thing from you." She was silent. And when he finally glanced at her, her eyes were shiny in the fire light. "You could have sent me away," she said.
"I told you before," Cole said. "I don't leave folks to fend for themselves." Nia stood slowly and crossed the room. She stopped just in front of him, close enough that he could smell the smoke in her hair. You still look away," she said quietly. Cole set the knife down and met her eyes, trying to do right by you.
Nia didn't speak. She just reached down, took his rough hand and hers and placed it against her shoulder where the rope burn had been. The skin was healing, but still marked. Cole's breath came slow. "You sure?" She nodded once.
He didn't rush. He stood still holding her hand and brushed back a strand of her hair that had fallen forward. When he touched her cheek, she didn't flinch. "You're safe here," he said softly. "I know," she whispered.
When he kissed her, it wasn't hard or hurried, just careful, almost testing. She leaned into it, one hand clutching his shirt like she was anchoring herself there. When they finally pulled apart, she stayed close, resting her forehead against his chest. Cole wrapped an arm around her shoulders, holding her still. Neither of them said much after that.
They ate supper quietly and when it came time to sleep, Cole didn't unroll his bed roll on the floor. Instead, he sat on the edge of the cot and looked at her waiting. Nia didn't tell him no. She just slid over enough to make room. They lay side by side in the dim light of the dying fire, not touching at first.
Then, slowly, Nia shifted closer until her head rested near his shoulder. Cole let out a long breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and rested his hand lightly over hers. Outside, the rain softened. The wind carrying the smell of wet earth through the cracks and shutters. For the first time since finding her at the creek, Cole felt the cabin wasn't just a place to guard.
It was a place that might hold both of them if they let it. When sleep finally came, it came easier. And when Cole woke once in the night, reaching for the rifle by habit, he felt Nia's hand still resting against him and let himself relax. The morning after the rain, the sky was washed clean, the air sharp and cool. Cole woke to find Nia still lying beside him, her dark hair spilling across his shoulder.
For a long moment, he just stayed there, listening to the soft rhythm of her breathing. When she opened her eyes, there was no startle this time, only a steady look that made his chest feel tight. "You sleep?" he asked quietly. Nia nodded. "First time," she said.
Cole sat up, pulled on his boots, and went to stir the fire back to life. The cabin smelled of damp wood and last night's ashes, but it felt different now. Lived in, not just a place to wait out trouble. When they finished breakfast, Cole saddled the horse. "I'm riding into town," he said.
Nia's face shifted, the calm she had gained the night before slipping just a little. "You stay here," she asked. "You can come," Cole said, watching her carefully. "Your choice." "But if you do, you stay close to me." She hesitated only a moment before nodding. "I come." The road into town was still muddy from the night's rain, so they rode slow, the horse picking its way carefully.
Cole felt Nia's hands grip the back of his shirt, not in fear exactly, but like she was bracing herself. When they reached the main street, people were out early hauling water, sweeping the front of the stores. Conversation slowed when they saw Nia riding behind him. Cole felt the eyes on them, but he didn't turn his head. He tied the horse outside the general store and helped Nia down.
She kept her chin high, shoulders squared, though Cole could see how tight her jaw was. Inside, the storekeeper looked up from behind the counter, eyebrows raising slightly when he saw who had come in. Cole nodded once. "Need flour, sugar, coffee, nails," Cole said. The man packed the order without comment, though his eyes flicked to Nyan now and then.