He held her there until the tightness in both their shoulders eased. When she finally stepped back, her eyes were dry but hard, no longer the eyes of someone ready to run. "I fight too," she said simply. Calder studied her for a long moment, then nodded once.
"All right."
The rest of the day passed in tense quiet. Calder cleaned the rifle and checked the other ammunition, setting some aside where it could be grabbed fast. Naya moved through the cabin with new purpose, sharpening the kitchen knife on the whetstone and tying her hair back out of her face like she meant to be ready.
That night, when they lay down, she didn't just curl near him. She pressed close, seeking not just warmth but something steadier. Calder held her without hesitation this time, his hand tracing the length of her braid as if to promise he wasn't going to let her be taken. Sleep came slow.
But when it did, it was the deep kind that comes after a decision has been made. In the morning, Calder saddled the horse early and showed Naya how to load the spare rifle. She listened carefully, her hands sure as she worked the lever. "They come back, you stay inside," Calder said.
"But you keep this ready." She nodded, gripping the rifle. When she set it back down, she stepped close to him and kissed him. Not like the hesitant kiss by the fire, but with quiet certainty, like she was sealing an unspoken pact.
Calder rested his forehead against hers and let himself breathe her in. The smell of smoke and soap and a faint trace of stew still on her hands. When she pulled back, she said only one word. "Stay."
"I will," he said.
For the first time, he realized he wanted to fight if it meant keeping her there. The wind picked up the next afternoon, carrying a low hiss through the cottonwoods along the creek. Calder was in the yard stacking wood when he saw them again. Two riders on the same trail, this time coming faster.
He went inside, his voice calm but clipped. "They're back." Naya was already standing by the table, the rifle leaning against her chair. Her braid was tight, her face set.
She didn't ask what to do. She just nodded, took the rifle, and moved to the corner of the cabin where she could see the door but stay out of sight. Calder stepped back outside and waited. He didn't call to them this time.
He let them ride close enough that the dust from their horses settled in the yard. The older man reined up first, face harder than before. "We told you we'd be back," he said. Calder leveled his rifle across his arm.
"And I told you to ride on."
The younger man shifted in his saddle, his hand near the butt of his pistol. "She's coming with us. You can stand aside or you can stand in the way."
Calder's voice was steady. "She stays here."