Keep your distance from the bars. They're desperate men. Norah walked up to the cells with Silas beside her, and together they looked at the two men who'd brought violence to their home. The wounded one, the one Silas had shot, glared back with impotent rage. The other one wouldn't meet their eyes.
"You picked the wrong ranch," Norah said quietly. "The wrong family. We're not easy victims. We're not people who break. And now you'll spend the next decade in territorial prison learning that actions have consequences."
"That's enough, Mrs. Boon," Morrison said. But there was approval in his voice. They left the sheriff's office and stepped into bright afternoon sunshine. That felt different somehow, lighter, cleaner, like the world had been scrubbed of something dark. Silas took Norah's hand and they walked through town together.
And for the first time since arriving in Montana territory, he didn't feel like people were looking at him with pity or judgment. He felt like they were seeing him, seeing them both as people who belonged. That evening, they returned to the ranch to find Tom and several others had not only watched the property, but had done repair work, fixing a section of fence, organizing the barn, leaving fresh supplies in the cabin. A note from Sarah said simply, "Welcome home. We're glad you're staying."
Standing on their porch as the sun set over the western peaks, Silas put his arm around Norah's waist and felt her lean into him, solid and warm and exactly right. We did it, he said softly. We actually did it. Did what? Survived.
Both of us. All the things that should have broken us, James, the rustlers being too small or too big or too damaged to function, we survived them all. And now, he gestured at the ranch, the repaired fence, the evidence of community support. Now we get to live instead of just surviving. About that, Norah said, and something in her voice made him look at her sharply.
She was smiling, nervous, and excited and scared all at once. There's something I need to tell you. Something I've been waiting to say until I was sure. His heart started hammering. What is it?
I'm pregnant, she said simply. About 2 months along, I think. I wasn't certain until yesterday when Sarah mentioned her daughter had the same symptoms during her first pregnancy, but I'm certain now. The world stopped. Pregnant.
A baby. Their child growing inside her. The product of their unlikely union and improbable love. Silas opened his mouth, but no words came out. There were too many emotions trying to escape at once.