For the first time since he'd found her, he let himself think past tomorrow, past the fence repairs, past watching the horizon for riders, and pictured a life where she was here because she chose to be, not because she had nowhere else to go. Outside, the night was quiet again, but it wasn't the fragile quiet of fear. It was the kind that came after a line had been drawn and held. The next morning, Cole saddled the horse before the sun was fully up. The air was cool, the sky pale, and the sound of boots on the porch brought Nia outside.
"You go," she asked, her voice calm but watchful. "Into town," Cole said. "Best we end this before it starts again. You coming?" She hesitated for just a heartbeat, then nodded. "I come?" They rode in together, slower this time, not hiding.
When they reached town, people turned to watch just like before, but Cole didn't look away. He tied the horse in front of the sheriff's office and helped Nia down, keeping his hand on her back as they walked inside. The sheriff, a man in his 50s with a tired face, looked up from his desk. "Merrick," he said, then glanced at Nia. "Heard some talk." "You heard right," Cole said.
"Three boys, Klay Jensen, and two others, came to my place at night. Tried to spook my stock, threatened her." The sheriff leaned back in his chair, letting out a slow breath. Clay's been trouble before. I'll ride out, speak to his old man. Make sure it don't happen again.
Talking's not enough, Cole said flatly. If they set foot on my place again, it won't be words next time. The sheriff studied him, then nodded. I'll make it clear. His gaze shifted to Nia.
You want to press charges? Nia stood straighter. I want them stay away, she said. I want a man take my clothes, my food, my name. The sheriff nodded again, slower this time.
Reckon we can make that happen. I'll put it down in writing. By the time they left, Cole could feel some of the tension ease from Nia's shoulders. Outside, she stood for a moment, looking down the street. The same men who had whispered the last time were there, watching.
This time, Nia didn't look away. On the ride home, she was quiet, but not in the same weary way as before. When they reached the cabin, she slid down from the saddle and turned to face him. "You make it safe," she said simply. Cole untied the parcels from the saddle and set them on the porch.