Can you do that for me? I do not know how to do that anymore.

Yes, you do.

You trusted Ruth when she wrapped your ribs.

You trusted Hannah a minute ago with your broken fingers.

You told me the whole truth last night when you could have just as easily told a lie.

That is different.

How is it different? Because trusting a woman to patch me up is hard enough.

Trusting a man to keep me safe.

Her voice broke.

The last man who swore he would protect me is the very one who sent Virgil Cain.

The words hung in the air, heavy as stones.

Caleb felt every bit of their weight and made no move to push them aside.

I know, and I know there is not a thing I can say that will fix any of this.

Words from men come cheap, so I am not going to ask you to believe mine.

” He knelt down in front of her, looking her square in the eye.

“I am going to ask you to watch.

You watch what I do, and then you can decide for yourself.

” She studied his face the way she had learned to do, searching for the crack, the lie, the violence hidden just beneath the surface.

He let her look.

He had absolutely nothing to hide.

All right, she whispered.

I will watch.

Good.

Now, we ought to think about getting you moved.

Moved where? Ruth’s house in town is too out in the open, but there is an old line cabin about 2 mi north of here, tucked up in the hills.

It used to be a shelter for shepherds.

Nobody ever goes up there in the summer.

It is not much, but it is hidden.

You want me to run away? I want you somewhere Cain cannot find you if he decides to pay this ranch a visit.

And what happens to you if he shows up here and I am gone? He will know you hid me.

He will make you tell him where I am.

He will certainly try.

Caleb, stop talking like you are made of steel.

You are not.

I have seen what Virgil does to men who stand in his way, and I have seen what he does to women.

His voice was low, but hard as iron.

I am not letting that happen again.

Their eyes locked.

Something passed between them that neither one of them could put a name to.

Something more than just gratitude, more than attraction, something far deeper than two weeks of knowing each other should allow.

But trouble has its own way of telling time.

Sometimes you can learn more about a person in 5 days of crisis than you do in 5 years of an ordinary life.

I am not going to the line cabin, Maggie said, her voice firm.

Maggie, for one thing, I spent 3 years on the run from Douglas, hiding, trying to make myself disappear.

And all it got me was face down in the dirt, waiting for my life to end.

She stood up, wincing from the pain, but holding steady.

If Virgil Cain comes to this ranch, I want to be right here.

I want to look him straight in the eye.

I want him to see that I am not broken.

You have got four cracked ribs and three broken fingers, but your backbone is working just fine.

Ruth’s voice floated in from the kitchen.

She has got a point, Caleb.

Have you been listening this whole time? I am 58 years old.

I own a restaurant and I raised four children.

I have been listening in on other people’s business since before you were even a thought.

In spite of everything, Maggie let out a laugh.

It was a small sound and a painful one.

She pressed a hand to her side right away, but it was a genuine laugh.

It was the first real one Caleb had heard from her.

It changed the entire look of her face.

“Fine,” Caleb said as he stood up.

“You can stay, but we are going to do this my way.

” “Tom, take the horses out to the back pasture.

If anyone rides up, it will look like the place is empty.

” “Ruth, can you get a message to the sheriff?” quietly.

My nephew delivers eggs to the jail house every Tuesday.

That is today.

You tell Yates that Douglas Coulter’s wife is right here.

She is alive and she has proof of federal crimes.

If Yates is half the law man he says he is, he will know what to do.

And if he is not, Maggie asked.

“Then we will find out who Emmett Yates really is.

” Ruth was out the door in less than 10 minutes, carrying her basket of eggs and biscuits, looking for all the world like she was just making a routine delivery.

Tom moved the horses.

Hannah was already just a cloud of dust on the northern road.

That left Caleb and Maggie all alone in the house with a rifle, a revolver, and whatever was heading their way.

Caleb checked every single window and every single door.

He loaded the rifle and placed it near the front entrance.

Then he checked the chambers of the revolver.

“You know how to use one of these?” he asked Maggie.

“Douglas taught me back before things went sour.

He said a wife on the frontier ought to know her way around a firearm.

” Funny how that turned out for him.

“I was thinking the same thing.

” She held out her good hand.

“Give me the revolver.

Your fingers are broken on your right hand.

I shoot with my left.

” He looked at her.

She stared right back as steady as a rock.

He handed her the gun.

She checked the cylinder, felt its weight, and cighted down the barrel.

Her grip was sure, and her stance was natural.

Douglas Coulter had taught his wife very well, and now that lesson belonged only to her.

Six rounds, she said.

Six rounds.

She placed the revolver on the table next to her, where she could grab it in a second.

Then, let us hope I only need one of them.

The afternoon crawled by long and hot.

The July heat leaned against the little house.

Caleb sat by the front window watching.

Maggie sat at the kitchen table.

They did not speak much.

There was not much left to say.

The words had all been said.

Now it was all about waiting and watching and being ready.

Close to 4:00, a plume of dust appeared on the south road.

A rider is coming, Caleb said.

Maggie’s hand immediately went to the revolver.

Just one rider.

Virgil does not ride by himself.

I know.

They both watched as the dust cloud got bigger.

Caleb raised the rifle.

Maggie pulled back the hammer on the revolver with her thumb.

The click it made was loud in the quiet house.

The rider came into view.

It was Sheriff Emtt Yates, all alone, riding at a slow pace.

the badge on his chest catching the afternoon sun.

Caleb did not lower his rifle.

He could be leading them right to us.

He could be.

Maggie did not lower the revolver either.

Yates came to a stop at the gate.

He lifted both of his hands with his palms facing out.

Mercer, I am by myself.

Ruth sent me.

Can we talk this out like civilized folks, or are you planning on shooting me right off my horse? That depends on what you came here to say.

I came to say that Douglas Coulter and two of his men are down at the hotel in Elkbend right now asking everyone in town about a woman with dark hair.

And I came to say he paused for a moment.

I came to say I am tired of being afraid of the wrong people.

Caleb glanced over at Maggie.

She met his gaze.

A decision was made between them without a single word.

He lowered the rifle.

She lowered the revolver.

Come on inside, Sheriff Caleb called out.

We’ve got a lot to tell you and not much time to do it.

Sheriff Emtt Yates sat down at Caleb’s kitchen table, holding his hat in his hands with the look of a man who had been carrying a heavy burden for far too long.

Maggie sat across from him, the revolver still close by.

Caleb stood by the window, his eyes still fixed on the road.

“Start talking, EMTT,” Caleb said without turning around.

Douglas Coulter rode into Elkbend this morning with two men.

One of them, a big fellow with a scar on his neck, went into Miller’s store first, acted all casual, asking about any strangers that might have passed through.

Miller did not say much, but his wife sure did.

Yates rubbed his face with his hand.

She told them a young ranch hand had ridden through before sunrise, riding hard, said something about a woman he heard on the North Trail.

Maggie’s hand tightened on the table’s edge.

Coulter came to my office next, polite as you please, on a Sunday morning.

He showed me a photograph.

Said his wife had gone missing.

Said she was delicate and prone to imagining things.

Yates looked over at Maggie.

Is that you? That is his story of me.

What is the real story? The real story has four cracked ribs and three broken fingers which his man, Virgil Kaine, gave me right before leaving me to bleed out on a dirt trail.

Yates was silent for a moment.

I figured it was something like that.

A man shows up with two armed riders looking for his delicate wife.

That is not concern.

That is a hunting party.

So why did you send them south? Caleb asked.

Because something about it just did not feel right.

And because Ruth Callaway marched into my office two hours later with a basket of eggs and a look that could turn milk sour and she told me exactly what was going on.

He turned his attention back to Maggie.

Mrs.

Coloulter Ruth says you have some evidence.

Federal crimes running whiskey to the reservations.

I did have evidence.

My husband’s men took the original papers when they caught me, but I had already mailed copies to a Dr.

Hannah Price right here in the territory.

She is riding to get them as we speak.

When? Tomorrow evening.

Maybe sooner if she pushes her horse hard.

Yates let out a long, slow breath.

That is a problem.

I sent Coloulter south, but that road ends at Keller’s Creek.

He will figure that out by sundown, and he will double back.

By morning he will be back in town asking much harder questions and I will not be able to send him on a wild goose chase a second time without showing my hand.

Then we have tonight, Caleb said.

Tonight and whatever bit of luck the good lord decides to give us.

Yates sat up straighter in his chair.

I am going to be plain with you both.

I have not been a courageous man.

I took this badge because the pay was regular and Elkbend was a quiet town.

I have turned a blind eye to things I should have faced.

Because looking them straight on would have meant trouble for me.

Why are you telling us this? Maggie asked.

Because I need you to understand what it is costing me to be sitting in this chair right now.

He looked her directly in the eyes.

And because Ruth told me something I cannot forget.

She said, “Emtt Yates, you can die a coward or you can live like a man, but you cannot do both.

That woman has been telling me hard truths for 20 years, and I have just been too stubborn to listen.

Are you listening now? Caleb asked.

I am here, am I not? Caleb finally turned away from the window.

All right.

What can you actually do to help? Do on the books.

Not a blessed thing.

Colton hasn’t broken any law in my town that I can stick to him.

He’s just a worried husband searching for his wife who’s gone missing.

His boys haven’t laid a hand on anybody.

I can’t throw a man in jail for being polite.

Now off the books.

That’s a different story.

I have four deputies.

Two of them are good souls.

The other two would sell their own kin for a warm meal so they won’t hear a peep about this.

He took a creased paper out of his coat.

I also got this.

It came over the wire this afternoon from the US Marshall’s office up in Helena.

Looks like someone.

He glanced over at Maggie.

Put in a complaint about illegal whiskey being sold on tribal lands 3 weeks back before you even packed up from Missouri.

Maggie just stared.

I did that.

I sent a letter to the marshall’s office.

I never got a reply.

I figured they just tossed it aside.

They didn’t toss it.

They’ve been putting a case together on the quiet.

This wire here says a federal man by the name of Samuel Harding is on the job and is headed for Montana territory right now.

Yates laid the paper down on the table.

The trouble is headed this way could mean he’ll be here next week or it could mean next month.

The government does things on its own sweet time.

We don’t have until next week.

Caleb stated.

No, you surely don’t.

And that’s why I’m about to suggest what might be the single dumbest thing I’ve ever thought up.

Yates got to his feet.

I’m going to head back into town tomorrow morning when Colton shows up again all full of bluster.

I’m going to let him know I got a tip.

His wife was spotted heading east out toward Fort Benton.

That should buy you another day, maybe two.

And when he figures out I’m lying.

Well, then I suppose I’ll find out if this piece of tin I wear is worth a damn.

Yates settled his hat on his head.

One last thing.

That big fellow with the scar came.

He didn’t follow Colton back to the hotel.

He broke off from the group.

Nobody’s laid eyes on him since noon.

A chill settled over the kitchen.

He’s out there scouting, Caleb said.

That would be my guess.

A man like that ain’t the type to sit around a hotel room waiting for news.

He goes out and makes his own.

Yates walked toward the door.

You lock this place up tight tonight, Mercer, and don’t put all your faith in that front gate.

If Cain is half as good as he looks, he won’t be coming up the main road.

After Sheriff Yates was gone, the quiet in that house was so thick you could feel it.

Maggie sat like a statue, the revolver now resting in her lap, her thumb tracing the handle.

He’s out there, she said.

Cain, right now, moving around in the dark.

Not just yet.

There’s still some light left.

He’ll wait.

You don’t know the man.

I know his kind.

I’ve tracked men just like him, and I’ve had them tracking me.

He has patience.

He’ll want to be absolutely sure of things before he makes his move.

And when he is, that’s when he’ll come.

And I’ll be waiting.

We Maggie corrected him.

We’ll be waiting.

Caleb looked at her.

Then this woman with her fingers busted and bound, her ribs cracked and wrapped, one eye still puffed up half closed, tore all to pieces, but sitting there straight as a post by sheer grit alone.

We, he finally agreed.

They got the house ready.

Caleb dropped the bar on the back door and double-checked the latch on every window.

He put the rifle near the front door and a shotgun he got from his bedroom closet down the back hall.

Tom had gotten back from stabling the horses and Caleb told him to ride to Ruth’s house in town.

I’m not leaving you, boss.

Yes, you are.

If things go bad here tonight, somebody has to know what happened.

Ruth has to know.

And if Hannah shows up from the south, we need somebody to get her here in a hurry.

But Tom, Caleb put a firm hand on the young man’s shoulder.

This isn’t running.

This is being smart.

I need you where you’ll do the most good.

And right now that’s in town.

Tom worked his jaw back and forth.

He glanced at Maggie, then looked back to Caleb.

You keep her safe now.

That’s the plan.

Tom spurred his horse out just as the daylight began to fail.

Caleb watched until he was gone.

Then he shut and barred the main door.

It’s just us now.

Maggie’s voice came from the kitchen.

Just us.

That evening drug on forever.

Caleb put on a pot of coffee.

Maggie tried to get down one of Ruth’s leftover biscuits, but she only managed about half before her stomach turned on her.

Pain and worry don’t make for a good appetite.

“Tell me about what happened in Kansas,” she said.

“Listen, if somebody’s coming to kill us tonight, I don’t intend to spend my last few hours just sitting in the quiet.

” He poured them both a cup of coffee and sat down across from her.

“I already told you about the Dawsons.

You told me how they ended up.

You never told me what happened next.

After he cuped the warm mug with both hands.

After I rounded up three men from the cattle outfit, I had folks who saw what happened had the proof.

It was a case sealed tighter than a drum.

Everybody said so.

But the cattle company had deep pockets.

Deep pockets by slick lawyers.

Those lawyers got two of the three men off clean.

The third one, the fellow who actually squeezed the trigger, got 5 years.

He was out in 18 months.

He took a long swallow of his coffee.

I went to the judge.

I told him it was a crooked deal from start to finish.

He told me that justice is whatever the court says it is, and I’d better get used to it.

So, you quit.

I laid my badge right on his desk and I walked out of there.

I bought a horse and pointed it west.

I didn’t stop riding till I hit Montana.

He put his cup down.

That all happened 3 years ago.

I haven’t worn a badge since then.

Haven’t had to point a gun at another man either.

I told myself I was done with that life for good.

But you’re not done with it.

Seems I’m not.

He met her eyes across the table.

You want the honest truth? The first thing that went through my head when I found you on that trail wasn’t, “I have to help this woman.

” It was, “Don’t you get mixed up in this.

” I heard it plain as day in my head.

Just ride on by.

This isn’t your fight.

What made you change your mind? You did.

You were laid out in the dirt, your fingers broken and your face all battered, and you still tried to crawl away from me.

You tried to defend yourself when you had absolutely nothing left.

And I thought he trailed off.

I thought about little Billy Dawson hiding in that root cellar, hearing his mother and father die.

I thought about what might have been different if someone had been there for them.

just one single person who decided not to just ride on past.

Maggie’s hand reached across the table.

This time it didn’t hesitate.

Her good hand found his, and she held on tight.

“You were there,” she said softly.

“For me.

You were there.

” His calloused fingers wrapped around hers, roughness against smoothness, warmth against a chill.

Nobody said a word for a good long while.

And in that quiet, something changed between them.

It wasn’t anything big or sudden, just real, like a wall coming down, one stone at a time.

A noise from outside shattered the moment.

Caleb shot to his feet, his hand already on the rifle.

Maggie snatched up the revolver.

“What was that?” she whispered.

He crept to the window, keeping himself flat against the wall and peeking out into the growing darkness.

“Could be a coyote.

Could be Kane.

Another noise.

Another.

This time it was metal.

Scraping metal.

The latch on the barn.

You stay right here.

Caleb said.

No.

Maggie.

For once, just do as I say.

I said no.

If he’s out there, we either face him together or we don’t face him at all.

He wanted to argue with her.

All his old lawman instincts were screaming at him to get the civilian to safety and go handle the danger himself.

But Maggie Colton wasn’t just some civilian.

She was the one they were after.

And she’d decided she was done running.

He had no right to take that away from her.

“Stay behind me,” he said.

“And if I go down, you keep shooting till that gun is empty.

” “You are not going down just in case.

” He lifted the bar from the front door, easing it open just an inch at a time.

The yard was all shades of gray in the fading light, the shapes of things blurring together.

The barn stood about 60 ft away, its big door hanging open just a bit.

He knew for a fact he’d closed that door.

“Cover me from the porch,” he whispered.

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