Jake Carlson was still smiling when the arrow struck the dirt between his boots.
His smile disappeared.
The arrow vibrated in the ground.
Dust settled around it.
Nobody moved.
Blake turned toward the house.
Nia stood in the doorway.
Barely recovered.
Too thin.
Still pale from dehydration.
But the bow in her hands was steady.
A second arrow was already drawn.
Jake Carlson stared at her.
“Put that down.”
Nia's expression did not change.
“Leave.”
Jake's younger brother laughed nervously.
“She can't even stand straight.”
The arrow shifted toward him.
He stopped laughing.
Blake stepped sideways, no longer between Nia and the men.
“Nia.”
“I am fine.”
“You are absolutely not fine.”
“Then make them leave quickly.”
Despite the danger, Blake almost smiled.
Jake glanced between them.
“This your woman now, Mercer?”
Blake's expression hardened.
“She doesn't belong to anybody.”
Nia's eyes flickered toward him.
Jake noticed.
“So that's how it is.”
“No,” Blake said. “How it is, is you're trespassing.”
Jake took one step forward.
Nia pulled the bowstring slightly tighter.
“Another step,” she said quietly, “and the next arrow will not land in the dirt.”
Jake stared.
Something in her voice convinced him.
He raised both hands.
“We don't want trouble.”
Nia replied, “Then stop bringing it.”
Silence.
Jake backed toward his horse.
His brothers followed.
Before mounting, Jake looked at Blake.
“This isn't finished.”
Blake said, “It is if you're smart.”
Jake smiled coldly.
“You know me better than that.”
The brothers rode away.
Nia kept the bow raised until the riders disappeared behind a ridge.
Then her shoulders dropped.
The bow slipped.
Blake ran.
Her knees folded before he reached her.
He caught her against his chest.
“You can barely stand.”
Nia closed her eyes.
“You saved me.”
“That doesn't mean you have to kill yourself returning the favor.”
She opened her eyes.
“So I saved you.”
Blake stared.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then he laughed once in disbelief.
“You are the most impossible woman I've ever met.”
“Is that bad?”
“No.”
His expression softened.
“I'm beginning to think it's very good.”
He carried her inside.
Nia protested.
“I can walk.”
“You proved your point with the arrow.”
“Blake.”
“No.”
“I dislike being carried.”
“You didn't complain the first time.”
“I was unconscious.”
“Exactly. Much easier.”
Nia gave him an irritated look.
Blake grinned.
That afternoon, he made her rest.
But trouble did not leave his thoughts.
The Carlson brothers had been terrorizing scattered ranches for months.
Small thefts.
Threats.
Missing cattle.
Nobody could prove enough to bring territorial law down on them.
Blake had resisted them before.
Now they had seen Nia.
That worried him more than anything.
“They will return,” Nia said that evening.
Blake looked up from the table.
“You heard me thinking?”
“You are very loud when worried.”
“I wasn't talking.”
“Exactly.”
He leaned back.
“Jake doesn't like losing.”
“Then he must be unhappy often.”
Blake laughed.
“You really aren't afraid of anyone, are you?”
Nia became serious.
“I am afraid of many things.”
“Like what?”
“Being sent away.”
The answer erased his smile.
Nia looked down.
“I know how to fight something I can see. I don't know how to fight people deciding I no longer belong.”
Blake leaned forward.
“Nobody is sending you anywhere.”
Her gaze lifted.
“You cannot promise that.”
“Yes, I can.”
“This is your ranch.”
“Exactly.”
“That is why you can change your mind.”
Blake understood.
She wasn't accusing him.
She was protecting herself.
“Nia.”
He waited until she looked at him.
“You stay because you want to stay. If you ever leave, it will be because you choose to. Not because I throw you out.”
Her throat tightened.
“What if people object?”
“People object when it rains, when it doesn't rain, when horses cost too much, when beef costs too little, and probably when the sun comes up five minutes early.”
Nia almost smiled.
Blake continued.
“I stopped organizing my life around people's opinions a long time ago.”
“Why?”
“Because they weren't helping me live it.”
That answer stayed with her.
Over the next two weeks, Nia regained almost all her strength.
Blake stopped treating her like a patient.
Mostly because she threatened to shoot another arrow near his boots if he did not.
She began working with the horses.
That surprised him most.
One young mare refused nearly everyone.
Nia stood quietly beside the corral fence for almost an hour before entering.
She did not reach for the horse.
Did not corner her.
Simply waited.
Eventually the mare approached.
Blake watched from the barn.
“How'd you do that?”
Nia stroked the mare's nose.
“I did nothing.”
“Exactly. That's apparently where I've been going wrong.”
“You always try to control them.”
“They're horses.”
“They are frightened horses.”
“Same difference.”
Nia looked offended.
“It is not.”
Blake smiled.
“I know.”
They began falling into rhythms neither acknowledged.
Morning coffee.
Feeding horses.
Work.
Dinner.
Evening on the porch.
Nia repaired things Blake had ignored for years.
Blake built shelves because she complained nothing had a proper place.
She planted medicinal herbs near the house.
He teased her about turning the ranch into a garden.
She accused him of being afraid of vegetables.
Then came the first trip into town.
Nia hesitated when Blake suggested it.
“Why?”
“We need flour.”
“You need flour.”
“We need flour.”
The word struck her.
We.
She said nothing.
Blake noticed but did not comment.
They rode together.
The settlement consisted of a general store, blacksmith, saloon, church, several houses, and a sheriff's office.
People stared when Nia arrived.
Blake saw every look.
His shoulders tightened.
Nia noticed.
“Do not fight everyone.”
“I wasn't planning to.”
“You were thinking about it.”
Blake sighed.
“Still loud?”
“Very.”
Inside the general store, conversation stopped.
The owner, Mr. Talbot, looked surprised.
“Mercer.”
“Talbot.”
His eyes moved to Nia.
Blake said, “This is Nia.”
Talbot nodded awkwardly.
“Ma'am.”
Nia nodded.
They collected supplies.
Then two women whispered near the fabric shelves.
One spoke louder than necessary.
“Wonder where he found her.”
Blake stopped.
Nia touched his arm.
“No.”
He looked at her.
She shook her head.
“Do not give strangers control over your temper.”
Blake breathed out.
“Fine.”
As they left, Nia said quietly, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For wanting to.”
He smiled.
Outside, a deputy approached.
“Mercer.”
“Yeah?”
“Carlsons were asking about you.”
Blake's expression changed.
“What'd they want?”
“Didn't say. Sheriff's been watching them.”
Nia listened.
The deputy lowered his voice.
“Be careful.”
That night Blake checked the barn twice.
Nia saw him.
“They frighten you.”
“For you.”
“I can defend myself.”
“I know.”
“Then why?”
Blake struggled to explain.
“Because knowing you're strong doesn't mean I want danger near you.”
Nia stared.
No one had ever separated her strength from her right to be protected.
People had always assumed if she could endure hardship, she should.
Blake believed endurance did not mean she deserved more pain.
That difference mattered.
Three days later, trouble arrived in another form.
Dark clouds gathered over the mountains.
Blake looked up while repairing a fence.
“Storm.”
Nia stood beside him.
“The horses know.”
They did.
The animals were restless.
By late afternoon, wind ripped across the ranch.
Dust disappeared beneath sudden rain.
Lightning cracked.
Blake began securing the barn.
Then Nia counted the horses.
“Thirty-two.”
Blake froze.
“There should be thirty-three.”
“The gray gelding.”
He looked toward the damaged western fence.
“Damn.”
Thunder boomed.
“We wait,” Blake said.
Nia stared at him.
“The horse will panic.”
“So will we if lightning kills us.”
“He could break a leg.”
“Nia.”
She had already grabbed her coat.
“You saved me when the desert could have killed you too.”
“That is not an argument I enjoy hearing used against me.”
She walked toward Thunder.
Blake swore.
Then grabbed his hat.
“Fine. But you stay near me.”
Nia looked back.
“You say that often.”
“Because you ignore it often.”
They rode into the storm.
Rain transformed dust into mud.
Lightning illuminated the desert in violent flashes.
They followed broken tracks west.
Finally Nia pointed.
“There!”
The gray horse had become trapped among rocks.
Blake dismounted.
Together they calmed the terrified animal.
They freed the reins caught around brush.
Then another thunderclap exploded overhead.
The gelding bolted.
Nia jumped sideways.
Her boot slipped.
The muddy ground collapsed beneath her.
“Nia!”
She slid down the steep slope.
Blake threw himself after her.
Branches tore at his sleeves.
He reached the bottom seconds later.
Nia was trying to stand.
“I'm fine.”
“You say that at very inconvenient times.”
He pulled her upright.
She winced.
“Ankle?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
Lightning flashed.
For several seconds Blake simply held her.
Too tightly.
Nia noticed his hands shaking.
“Blake?”
He looked down.
Rain streamed from his hat.
“I thought—”
He stopped.
Nia waited.
“I thought I was going to lose you.”
“You barely know me.”
Blake stared at her.
“That stopped being true a while ago.”
The storm roared around them.
Nia's breath caught.
Blake reached up and touched her face.
Then withdrew his hand, as if afraid he had gone too far.
But something had changed.
Nia knew it.
Blake knew it.
Neither was ready to name it.
Not yet.
Above them, lightning split the sky.
And somewhere beyond the ridge, unseen by either of them, three riders watched the Mercer ranch from the storm-dark horizon.
The Carlson brothers had returned.
---