“Did it?”
“No.”
Iona stared into the flames.
“My father was a leader among our people.”
“Is he alive?”
“I don't know.”
“What happened?”
“Men came.”
She paused.
“They burned our camp. Some were killed. Others scattered.”
Nathan's hands tightened.
“I'm sorry.”
Iona looked at him.
“Don't say that unless you mean it.”
“I mean it.”
She nodded.
“I believe you.”
The words meant more to Nathan than they should have.
Days passed.
Then one morning, Nathan rode into Dry Creek.
He returned with bad news.
“There are men asking about you.”
Iona stood.
“Who?”
“Don't know.”
“Why?”
“They think I stole you.”
Iona's expression hardened.
“They think I belong to them.”
Nathan shook his head.
“You belong to yourself.”
She looked at him.
“Then why are they coming?”
“Because some men cannot understand a thing they cannot own.”
That night, the attack came.
A gunshot shattered the window.
Nathan pushed Iona to the floor.
“Stay down.”
Another bullet struck the wall.
Nathan crawled toward the rifle.
Iona grabbed his arm.
“How many?”
“Three. Maybe four.”
“I can help.”
“No.”
“I know how to shoot.”
“I know.”
She pulled a pistol from beneath her blanket.
Nathan stared.
“Where did you get that?”
“Your saddlebag.”
“You stole my gun?”
“I borrowed it.”
Despite the bullets striking the walls, Nathan almost laughed.
Then the back door exploded inward.
A man entered.
Iona fired.
He dropped.
Two more men appeared outside.
Nathan returned fire.
The fight lasted less than a minute.
When silence finally returned, one attacker was dead, another wounded, and the third had fled.
Nathan stood breathing hard.
Iona lowered the pistol.
“You saved me,” she said.
“You saved me too.”
She looked down.
“I suppose we are even.”
“No.”
Nathan stepped closer.
“We're not.”
“Why?”
“Because I don't want to be even with you.”
She looked into his eyes.
Neither moved.
Nathan finally said, “I want you safe.”
Iona's voice became quiet.
“And after I am safe?”
Nathan had no answer.
Then the wounded attacker groaned.
Nathan turned away.
The moment was gone.
But neither forgot it.
The Price of a Name
The following morning, Nathan rode to Dry Creek with the captured outlaw tied behind him.
The town gathered quickly.
The man confessed that the attack had been ordered by Silas Vane, a wealthy cattle buyer who had been involved in the prisoner auction.
Nathan knew the name.
Everyone did.
Silas owned half the businesses in Dry Creek.
He also owned men who did his dirty work.
Nathan entered the sheriff's office.
Sheriff Amos Reed listened to the confession.
Then he sighed.
“You understand what happens if you accuse Vane?”
“He gets arrested.”
The sheriff shook his head.
“You're assuming the law works that way.”
Nathan leaned forward.
“Then what good are you?”
The sheriff looked ashamed.
“I have children.”
Nathan understood.
Fear had bought silence.
Nathan left.
Outside, Iona waited.
“What did he say?”
“He won't help.”
“Then we leave.”
Nathan shook his head.
“Where?”
“Anywhere.”
“They'll follow.”
“Then we keep moving.”
Nathan looked at her.
“I don't want to run.”
“You have a better idea?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
He hesitated.
“Marriage.”
Iona stared at him.
The town noise seemed to disappear.
“You want to marry me?”
“No.”
She blinked.
Nathan quickly added, “Not because of the reason you're thinking.”
“That does not improve the situation.”
He almost smiled.
“Listen.”
He explained.
Vane's men could claim she was under Nathan's control.
But if they were legally married, any attempt to take her would become a direct assault against his household.