Robbery.
Burned homesteads.
Murders.
The men were surrounded.
The scarred leader reached for his gun.
Elias shouted.
"Don't!"
The man drew anyway.
The gunshot came almost simultaneously with Elias diving from the porch.
The bullet tore through Elias's coat.
He hit the ground.
Before he could recover, one of Cole's deputies struck the outlaw's gun hand.
The weapon fell.
Within moments, the gang surrendered.
Silence returned.
Nielli ran from the cabin.
"Elias!"
"I'm fine."
She grabbed his coat.
"You were shot!"
"The coat was."
She looked at the hole.
Then at him.
Her eyes filled with tears.
"You scared me."
Elias didn't know what to say.
Aiona approached more slowly.
She looked at the torn coat.
Then at Elias.
"You said you'd stay."
"I did."
"You nearly broke that promise."
Elias smiled faintly.
"I wasn't planning on getting shot."
"That is a terrible excuse."
Then Aiona stepped forward and embraced him.
Elias froze.
He had forgotten what it felt like to be held by someone who was simply relieved he was alive.
Slowly, his arms came around her.
For the first time in years, he didn't feel like a man waiting for the moment he would have to leave.
He felt wanted.
The following weeks were quiet.
The outlaw gang was taken away.
The land claim was secured.
The valley returned to normal.
But Elias did not leave.
He kept working.
He rebuilt the northern fence.
Replaced the damaged posts.
Repaired the barn.
Expanded the garden.
He fixed the gate again.
Nielli teased him that he had become obsessed with fences.
Elias told her a good fence prevented bad surprises.
She laughed.
"You just like having an excuse to stay."
Elias didn't deny it.
One cold morning, he drove the final post into the ground.
Aiona walked toward him carrying two cups of coffee.
She handed him one.
"The last post?"
Elias looked along the fence.
"Last one."
She nodded.
"So your work is finished."
He knew what she meant.
The trail south was open.
Ranger was ready.
His saddlebags were packed.
He could leave whenever he wanted.
Aiona looked toward the horizon.
"You could go."
"I know."
"You always said you were going south."
"I did."
She turned toward him.
"Then why haven't you?"
Elias looked at the cabin.
Smoke rose from the chimney.
Nielli was outside feeding the horses.
The place was warm.
Lived in.
Real.
He thought about ten years of empty roads.
Ten years of sleeping alone.
Ten years of believing that distance was safety.
Then he looked at Aiona.
"I was wrong."
She waited.
"About what?"
"About what safety means."