We need to leave before dawn.

Where will we go? My cabin.

It’s about 15 mi outside of Deadwood off the main trails.

Few people know of its existence, and those who do aren’t likely to tell Wilks.

Thea nodded, a weariness settling over her at the thought of more travel, more running.

I’ll be ready.

Nathan hesitated.

then said in a softer voice, “I’m sorry, Thea.

I promise to protect you, and so far I’ve just led you from one danger to another.

” “Don’t apologize,” she said firmly.

“You’ve done more for me than anyone has in years.

Whatever happens, we’ll face it together.

” A look passed between them, something deeper than the polite distance they had maintained since their hasty marriage.

Then Nathan nodded.

“Together,” he agreed.

Try to get some sleep.

I’ll wake you before dawn.

They left lead in the gray hours before sunrise, taking a different wagon and team borrowed from Frank Holloway to avoid recognition.

Nathan had plotted a roundabout route to his cabin, avoiding the main roads where Wils’s men might be watching.

It’ll take most of the day, he warned Thea as they set out.

The trails rough in places.

Rough was an understatement.

The path Nathan chose took them through dense forest and across rocky streams, up steep inclines where they had to get down and walk alongside the wagon to spare the horses, and through meadows so overgrown that at times the trail seemed to disappear entirely.

They spoke little during the journey, both alert for signs of pursuit.

By midday, they had climbed high enough to look back over the hills they had traversed, the mining camp of Leed, “Now just a smudge of smoke in the distance.

You think we’re being followed?” Thea asked during a brief stop to rest the horses.

“Not yet,” Nathan replied, scanning the horizon.

“But Wilks is persistent.

We need to reach the cabin before nightfall.

” The afternoon brought them into territory that seemed even more remote.

the forest thicker, the underbrush more dense.

Nathan navigated with the confidence of someone who knew these hills intimately, occasionally pointing out landmarks.

A lightning struck tree, an unusual rock formation that meant nothing to Thea, but clearly guided his way.

As the sun began its descent toward the western horizon, the forest opened up to reveal a small clearing.

Nestled against the hillside, partially sheltered by a stand of pines, stood a cabin.

It was modest one story, built of solid logs with a stone chimney at one end, but well-maintained, with a small corral for horses, and what appeared to be a garden plot, now overgrown with the season’s neglect.

It’s not much, Nathan said, watching Thea’s face for her reaction.

But it’s solid and it’s private.

It’s perfect, she replied honestly.

After days of hotel rooms and stage coaches and wagons, the little cabin looked like a haven of peace.

Nathan helped her down from the wagon, then began unloading their few belongings while Thea stretched her legs, walking around the clearing to get a better sense of their new refuge.

The cabin’s interior was simple but comfortable, a main room with a stone fireplace, a sturdy table and chairs, shelves lined with books that surprised Thea with their variety.

A doorway led to a smaller room that held a bed and chest of drawers.

Everything was neat and clean, if a bit dusty from Nathan’s absence.

“I don’t come here as often as I’d like,” he explained as he brought in their bags.

“Usually just a few days between freight runs.

” “You built this yourself?” Thea asked, running her fingers along the smooth wooden mantle.

Most of it had help with the chimney and some of the heavier work.

Nathan moved efficiently around the space, lighting lamps as the evening shadows lengthened.

There’s a spring just down the hill for fresh water.

The storeroom should have enough provisions to last a while.

Thea noticed there was only the one bedroom.

Nathan followed her gaze and quickly said, “I’ll take the main room.

There’s a cot I use when friends visit.

The sensitivity of the gesture touched her.

Despite their legal status as husband and wife, he was careful to respect her privacy and comfort.

“Thank you,” she said simply.

They settled into a domestic routine with surprising ease.

Nathan tended to the horses and brought in firewood while Thea located provisions in the storm and prepared a simple supper.

They ate at the wooden table, the lamp casting a warm glow over their faces as darkness fell outside.

“You think we’re safe here?” Thea asked, breaking a comfortable silence.

“For now,” Nathan replied.

“Even if Wilks learns about this place, it’s defensible.

One approach, good sight lines.

” He saw her expression and added gently, but it likely won’t come to that.

Once he realizes you’re legally my wife, he’ll have to accept it.

Will he, though? Thea set down her fork.

He strikes me as a man who doesn’t accept defeat easily.

No, Nathan admitted.

He doesn’t, but neither do I.

There was a quiet determination in his voice that reassured her.

Whatever came next, she wasn’t facing it alone.

After supper, Thea insisted on washing the dishes while Nathan brought in more firewood for the night.

When he returned, he found her standing by the bookshelf, examining his collection.

“Quite a library for a frontier cabin,” she observed.

“Thorough Emerson Shakespeare.

My father was a school teacher before the war,” Nathan explained, setting down the wood by the fireplace.

“Reading was important in our house.

Mine too, Thea said, a wistful note entering her voice.

My father used to read to us every evening Shakespeare in winter, wordssworth in spring.

You must miss them very much.

Every day, she acknowledged.

But it gets easier with time.

The sharp pain fades to a more manageable ache.

Nathan nodded, understanding in his eyes.

That’s been my experience, too.

Another moment of connection, of shared experience.

Thea was beginning to realize how many such moments had accumulated between them in the short time they had known each other.

They stayed up a while longer, talking softly by the fire.

Nathan told her more about his freighting business, the routes he traveled, the people he met.

Thea shared stories of her life in Boston, her education, her dreams before her parents’ death had altered her path so dramatically.

“It’s getting late,” Nathan finally said, noticing Thea trying to stifle a yawn.

“You should get some rest.

It’s been a long day.

” “Yes,” she agreed, suddenly shy about retiring to his bedroom while he slept in the main room.

“Good night, then.

” “Good night, Thea.

” In the small bedroom, Thea changed into her night gown and slipped under the quilts on the bed, breathing in the unfamiliar scent of the cabin with smoke, pine, and a subtle hint of something she was coming to recognize as uniquely Nathan.

Despite her exhaustion, sleep was slow to come as her mind replayed the events that had brought her to this place, this moment.

A week ago, she had been preparing to marry a stranger, a man old enough to be her father, chosen for her without regard for her feelings.

Now she was married to a different stranger, a man closer to her own age, who had risked his business and possibly his life to help her escape a fate she feared.

What strange turns life could take in the span of a few days? And what new turns might lie ahead? With that thought drifting through her mind, Thea finally surrendered to sleep.

Days at the cabin fell into a peaceful rhythm.

Nathan spent the mornings tending to necessary chores, repairing a loose shingle on the roof, mending the corral fence, ensuring their security.

Thea took charge of the domestic sphere, cleaning the cabin’s interior, preparing meals from the stored provisions, and even discovering an old journal where she began keeping track of their supplies.

The bookkeeper in her, unable to remain idle.

They were cautious about venturing far from the cabin, aware that Wilks’s men might still be searching the hills.

Nathan occasionally scouted the surrounding area, always returning before dark with reports that showed no signs of pursuit.

“He can’t keep men in the field indefinitely,” Nathan reasoned during supper on their fourth evening at the cabin.

“Sooner or later, he’ll have to accept that you’re beyond his reach.

” I hope you’re right, Thea replied, though she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that Bartholomew Wilks was not a man who accepted defeat easily.

As days turned into a week, they grew more comfortable with each other.

The initial awkwardness of their arrangement gave way to a genuine companionship.

They discovered shared interests, books, music, a dry sense of humor that surfaced in their conversations.

Nathan taught Thea to build a proper fire, while she impressed him with her knowledge of astronomy, pointing out constellations from the cabin’s doorway on clear nights.

Yet beneath this growing friendship, Thea sensed something else developing an awareness that manifested in stolen glances, in the brush of hands when passing a plate or cup, in conversations that lingered late into the evening.

More than once she caught Nathan watching her with an expression that made her heart beat faster, only to have him quickly look away when she met his gaze.

Their marriage might have begun as an arrangement of convenience, but Thea was beginning to wonder if it might become something more.

The question was whether Nathan felt the same or if she was simply projecting her own growing feelings onto their situation.

On the 10th day at the cabin, Nathan announced that he needed to make a trip into the nearest settlement, a small trading post about 5 miles distant.

“We’re running low on coffee and flower,” he explained.

“And I want to see if there’s any news about Wilks.

Will you be all right here alone for a few hours? I’ll be fine,” Thea assured him, though the thought of being alone in the remote cabin was slightly unnerving.

Just be careful.

Always am, he replied with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

After Nathan departed, Thea busied herself with chores to keep her mind occupied.

She was in the garden plot clearing weeds and planning what might be planted come spring, when she heard the sound of approaching horses more than one, by the cadence of hoof beatats.

Her first thought was that Nathan had returned with company, but something instinct perhaps told her otherwise.

Moving quickly but quietly, she retreated to the cabin, closing and barring the door behind her.

Through the window, she watched as three riders emerged from the trees into the clearing.

She recognized none of them, but their manner alert, weapons ready, spreading out to approach the cabin from different angles, marked them clearly as Wilks’s men.

How they had found the cabin, she couldn’t guess, but they were here now, and Nathan was miles away.

Thea’s heart pounded in her chest as she considered her options.

The cabin had no back door, only the windows, which were too small for a grown person to climb through.

Nathan kept a rifle above the fireplace, but she had no idea how to use it effectively.

She was essentially trapped.

One of the men dismounted and approached the door while the others maintained their positions, watching the cabin’s windows.

Mr.s.

Wilks, the man called, “We know you’re in there.

Mr. Wils sent us to bring you home.

” Thea remained silent, her mind racing.

These men didn’t know about her marriage to Nathan.

They still thought of her as Wilks’s weward fiance.

“No need to be afraid, madam.

” The man continued in what he probably thought was a reassuring tone.

“Mr. Wilks ain’t angry.

He just wants you safe and sound back in Deadwood.

” When Thea didn’t respond, the man’s voice hardened.

“Drake kidnapped you, madam.

That’s a hanging offense.

You come with us now.

tell folks what really happened and maybe he won’t swing for it.

The implied threat was clear.

Either she went with them willingly or Nathan would pay the price.

But she knew returning to Wilks meant condemning herself to the very fate she had fled and likely wouldn’t save Nathan anyway.

Wilks would never forgive the man who had stolen his bride.

“I’m not Mr.s.

Wilks,” she called through the door.

“I’m Mr.s.

Drake.

We were married by Judge Wilson in lead 10 days ago.

The certificate is filed with the territorial office.

There was a pause as the men outside process this information.

Then the spokesman laughed a harsh unpleasant sound.

Nice try, madam, but Mr. Wilks says different.

Now open this door before we have to break it down.

Thea stepped back from the door, her mind working frantically.

The men outside seemed determined to take her by force if necessary.

Nathan wouldn’t return for hours yet, and even then he would be outnumbered 3 to one.

A sharp crack split the air as one of the men began using an axe on the door.

The sturdy wood would hold for a while, but eventually they would break through.

Thea’s eyes fell on the rifle above the fireplace.

She had never fired a gun in her life, but perhaps she didn’t need to.

Perhaps the mere threat would be enough to buy time.

She reached up and took down the weapon, surprised by its weight.

Holding it awkwardly, she moved to the window nearest the door, where she could be seen by the man with the axe.

“Stop right there,” she called, her voice steadier than she felt.

“I have a rifle, and I will use it.

” The man paused, glancing toward the window where she stood.

His eyes widened slightly at the sight of the weapon in her hands.

“Now, madam, don’t do anything foolish,” he said, lowering the axe slightly.

“The foolish thing would be continuing to break down that door,” Thea replied.

“I’ve told you the truth.

I am legally married to Nathan Drake.

I will not be returning to Deadwood with you or anyone else.

The three men exchanged glances, clearly uncertain how to proceed in the face of armed resistance.

Thea took advantage of their hesitation to press her point.

Mr. Wilks has been misinformed about my situation.

If he wishes to contest the marriage, he can do so through legal channels, but I will not be coerced.

” The leader of the group frowned, then gestured for his companions to fall back toward their horses.

This ain’t over, madam, he called.

Mr. Wils wants you back, and what Mr. Wils wants, he gets.

Not this time, Thea said firmly, though her arms were beginning to ache from holding the rifle steady.

With a final warning glare, the man mounted his horse, and the three riders departed the clearing, disappearing back into the trees.

Only when they were completely out of sight did Thea lower the weapon, her hands shaking with delayed reaction to the confrontation.

She replaced the rifle above the fireplace, then sank into a chair, her legs suddenly weak.

She had stood up to Wilks’s men, had bluffed her way through a dangerous situation, but she harbored no illusions that this was the end of the matter.

They would be back, perhaps with more men next time.

When Nathan returned later that afternoon leading a pack mule laden with supplies, Thea met him at the door with the full story of what had transpired in his absence.

“I should never have left you alone,” he said, his expression darkening with anger and concern as he listened.

“Did they threaten you, hurt you?” “No, they were oddly polite considering they were trying to kidnap me,” Thea replied.

But they’ll be back, Nathan,” they said as much.

Nathan nodded grimly, unloading the supplies with quick, efficient movements that betrayed his tension.

“We need to leave tonight.

If they found this place once, they’ll return with more men.

” “Where can we go?” Thea asked.

“Lead isn’t safe, and neither is Deadwood.

There’s a ranch about 20 m north of here, owned by a friend from the war, Tom Sullivan.

He’d give us shelter while we figure out our next move.

Nathan paused in his work, fixing Thea with a serious gaze.

I’m sorry, Thea.

I thought marriage would protect you, give you legal standing against Wilks, but it seems he’s determined to ignore the law entirely.

It’s not your fault, she assured him.

You’ve done everything possible to help me.

Not everything, Nathan said quietly.

Not yet.

There was something in his voice, a resolve, a determination that both reassured and concerned Thea.

What was he planning? They worked quickly to prepare for departure, packing only essentials that could be carried on horseback rather than by wagon.

The plan was to travel light and fast, using the cover of darkness to slip away undetected.

As night fell, they made final preparations.

Nathan loaded his pistol and rifle, securing them for easy access during the journey.

Thea changed into the split riding skirt for easier travel on horseback.

Just before they were ready to depart, Nathan took something from a hidden compartment beneath a floorboard, a small leather pouch that clinkedked with the unmistakable sound of coins.

“Emergency funds,” he explained, tucking it inside his vest.

should be enough to get us a fresh start if needed.

A fresh start, Thea echoed.

The words carrying more weight than perhaps Nathan intended.

Was that what they were doing? Starting fresh together, or simply continuing to run until circumstances forced them apart? They left the cabin under a cloudy sky that obscured the moon and stars good conditions for traveling unseen.

Nathan led the way, guiding his horse on a path that avoided the main trails, while Thea followed on a gentle mare he had deemed suitable for her limited riding experience.

The night was cool, the forest alive with the sounds of nocturnal creatures.

They rode in silence for the most part, alert for any sign of pursuit.

Occasionally, Nathan would reach back to touch Thea’s arm, a wordless gesture of reassurance that she found unexpectedly comforting.

They had been riding for perhaps 2 hours when the sound of distant hoof beatats caused Nathan to signal a halt.

They waited, motionless in a stand of trees as the sounds grew closer.

“Four riders moving fast,” Nathan whispered.

“Could be Wilks’s men.

Could be just travelers.

Should we hide?” Thea asked, her voice barely audible.

Nathan considered for a moment, then nodded.

“Better safe than sorry.

This way.

” He led them deeper into the trees to a small ravine where they dismounted and guided the horses down to a position hidden from the trail.

They crouched together beside the animals, Nathan’s arm around Thea’s shoulders to keep her steady on the uneven ground.

The riders passed above them on the trail, moving at a steady clip.

Through the branches, Thea caught glimpses of dark shapes against the night sky.

Whether they were Wilks’s men or innocent travelers was impossible to tell, but the danger passed without their position being discovered.

“That was close,” Thea breathed as the sound of hoof beatats faded into the distance.

“Too close,” Nathan agreed.

We need to be more careful.

From here on, we’ll stay off the trails completely.

The rest of the night’s journey was slower and more difficult as a result, picking their way through dense forest and across rocky terrain.

By the time the eastern sky began to lighten with the approach of dawn, they had covered perhaps 15 mi, not as far as Nathan had hoped, but a significant distance nonetheless.

We’ll rest here for a bit, he decided as they reached a small clearing beside a stream.

Give the horses a chance to drink and graze.

We should reach Sullivan’s ranch by midday.

They dismounted, both stiff from the long night in the saddle.

Thea’s legs trembled as she tried to stand, unaccustomed to so many hours of riding.

Nathan caught her elbow steadying her.

All right, he asked, concern evident in his face, even in the dim light of early dawn.

Just tired, Thea assured him.

And sore in places I didn’t know could be sore.

That drew a soft chuckle from Nathan.

Riding gets easier with practice.

You did well for your first long journey.

Thank you for saying so, though I’m sure I was a hindrance.

Never that,” he said with a warmth that sent a pleasant shiver through her despite her exhaustion.

They settled beside the stream, drinking the cold, clear water and sharing a simple breakfast of jerky and hard attack from Nathan’s saddle bags.

As they ate, the sky continued to brighten, revealing their surroundings a peaceful glade that showed no signs of human presence save their own.

How well do you know this friend we’re going to? Thea asked, breaking a comfortable silence.

Tom, we served together in the 7th Michigan, saved each other’s lives more than once.

Nathan’s eyes took on a distant look, as they often did when he referenced the war.

He came out west before I did, established the ranch about 5 years ago.

Good man.

Solid.

And he’ll take us in just like that, without question.

Nathan confirmed.

That’s the kind of bond we share.

Thea nodded, a paying of something like envy touching her heart.

What would it be like to have such certainty in another person’s loyalty? The only person she had ever trusted so completely had been her father, and he was gone.

After a short rest, they continued their journey, now traveling in daylight, but still avoiding the main trails.

The landscape began to change.

The dense forest giving way to more open country rolling hills covered in grass and scattered stands of trees.

In the distance, mountains rose against the horizon, their peaks still capped with snow even in summer.

Sullivan’s ranch is just beyond that ridge, Nathan said, pointing ahead around midday.

Another hour and we’ll be there.

They were crossing an open meadow when the shot rang out.

Nathan’s horse reared, nearly throwing him while Thea’s mayor skittered sideways in alarm.

“Get down!” Nathan shouted, already sliding from his saddle and pulling Thea from hers.

They crouched low in the tall grass as another shot whistled overhead.

“Who’s shooting?” Thea gasped, her heart hammering in her chest.

Don’t know yet, Nathan replied grimly, drawing his pistol.

But they are ahead of us between us and Sullivan’s ranch.

Wils’s men likely.

They must have guessed our destination somehow.

Nathan’s eyes scan the ridge where the shots had originated.

We need to get to cover.

See that stand of trees to our left? When I say go, run for it.

I’ll cover you.

What about you? I’ll be right behind you.

He squeezed her hand briefly.

“Ready, go!” Thea ran, crouching low in the grass, her skirt catching on the undergrowth as she moved.

Behind her, she heard Nathan fire two shots toward the ridge, providing cover for her retreat.

She reached the trees and pressed herself against the largest trunk, breathing hard, watching anxiously for Nathan.

He appeared moments later, moving in a zigzag pattern that made him a difficult target.

Just as he reached the treeine, a shot rang out and he stumbled, clutching his left arm.

“Nathan,” Thea cried, rushing to him.

“I’m all right,” he grunted, though his face was pale.

“Just grazed me.

” Thea could see blood seeping between his fingers where he gripped his upper arm.

“Let me see,” she insisted, helping him deeper into the cover of the trees.

The wound was indeed a graze, painful, and bleeding freely, but not life-threatening.

Thea tore a strip from her pedicote and bound it tightly around Nathan’s arm to staunch the flow of blood.

“Thank you,” he said, his eyes meeting hers with an intensity that made her breath catch.

“Your steady under pressure, Thea Drake.

” The use of her married name sent an unexpected warmth through her despite their precarious situation.

“What now?” she asked, glancing toward the ridge where their attackers lurked.

“We can’t go forward, and going back means open ground where we’d be easy targets.

” Nathan checked his pistol, grimacing as the movement pulled at his wounded arm.

We need to circle around, try to reach Sullivan’s ranch from a different direction.

And the horses, they’ve bolted, but they’ll likely head for the ranch on their own.

Sullivan will recognize mine and know something’s wrong.

The hope that help might be coming was small comfort as they began making their way through the woods, keeping to dense cover as much as possible.

Nathan moved more slowly than before.

the wound in his arm clearly causing him pain, though he did his best to hide it.

They had been traveling for perhaps an hour, working their way around the ridge in a wide arc when they heard voices ahead.

Nathan signaled for Thea to stop, then crept forward to investigate.

When he returned, his expression was grim.

Three men making camp in a clearing just ahead.

They’re between us and Sullivan’s ranch, and from their conversation, they’re definitely Wilks’s men.

Can we go around them? Not easily.

The terrain opens up beyond the clearing.

We’d be exposed.

Nathan sat heavily on a fallen log, fatigue evident in the lines of his face.

We’ll have to wait until dark and try to slip past them, then.

The prospect of spending hours hiding in the woods with Nathan injured and their supplies limited to what they carried in their pockets was daunting.

But Thea saw the sense in his planned daylight movement would be too risky.

They found a sheltered spot beneath a rocky overhang, hidden from view by thick underbrush.

Nathan insisted Thea take the more comfortable position, leaning against the rock wall while he sat alert at the entrance to their makeshift hideout, his pistol ready.

As the afternoon wore on, Thea noticed Nathan growing paler, his movements more stiff.

When she checked his wound, she found the makeshift bandage soaked through with blood.

“You’re still bleeding,” she said, worry creeping into her voice.

It’s not as bad as it looks, he assured her, though his eyes were unnaturally bright.

Just needs a proper cleaning and bandaging once we reach Sullivan’s.

Thea wasn’t convinced.

She knew enough about wounds to recognize the early signs of fever, the flush on his cheeks, the slight tremor in his hands.

The grays might not be deep, but infection was a constant danger in field conditions.

You need rest, she insisted.

I’ll keep watch for a while.

You don’t know how to use the pistol, Nathan objected.

Then teach me, Thea replied firmly.

Quickly before you’re too weak to do so.

Something in her tone must have convinced him of her determination, for he nodded and proceeded to give her a brief lesson in handling the weapon, how to check if it was loaded, how to aim, how to fire.

Just point and squeeze the trigger gently, he instructed.

But Thea, promise me you’ll use it only as a last resort.

If someone approaches, wake me first.

I promise, she said, accepting the weight of the pistol with a solemn nod.

Nathan settled back against the rock wall, his injured arm cradled against his chest.

Despite his obvious intention to remain alert, exhaustion and blood loss soon took their toll and his eyes drifted closed.

Thea watched him sleep, concern growing as she noticed the sheen of sweat on his forehead despite the cool shade of their hideout.

The afternoon crawled by with excruciating slowness.

Occasionally Thea would hear voices or movement from the direction of the clearing where Wilks’s men had made camp, but no one approached their hiding place.

As the shadows lengthened with the approach of evening, Nathan stirred, his eyes opening with a clarity that suggested the rest had done him good.

“How long was I asleep?” he asked, sitting up straighter.

“A few hours,” Thea replied, returning his pistol.

No sign of anyone searching for us.

Nathan checked the weapon automatically, then tucked it back into his holster.

It’ll be dark soon.

We should be able to move then.

His color was better.

Thea noted with relief, though he still moved with a carefulness that suggested pain.

The fever hadn’t progressed, at least not noticeably, which was a small mercy.

As Dusk settled over the forest, they prepared to leave their shelter.

Nathan insisted on leading the way.

Despite his injury, guiding them through the growing darkness with an assurance that spoke of years spent navigating these hills.

They moved slowly, carefully, each step measured to avoid making noise that might alert the men in the clearing.

They had nearly made it past the camp, could see the glow of the campfire through the trees to their right when disaster struck.

Thea’s foot caught on an exposed route, sending her stumbling forward with a startled cry before she could catch herself.

The noise, though brief, was enough to alert the men in the clearing.

“What was that?” a voice called, followed by the sound of movement men rising, weapons being readied.

Run!” Nathan whispered urgently, pushing Thea ahead of him.

“Straight ahead.

Don’t stop.

” They abandoned stealth for speed, crashing through the underbrush as shouts, and then footsteps followed behind them.

Thea’s heart pounded in her ears as she ran, branches whipping at her face and arms, her skirt tangling around her legs.

Nathan stayed close behind her, occasionally glancing back to gauge the pursuit.

The forest began to thin, giving way to open grassland the edge of Sullivan’s ranch property.

Thea realized with a surge of hope, if they could just reach the ranch house.

A shot rang out behind them, then another.

Nathan grunted, stumbling slightly but keeping his feet.

“Keep going!” he gasped, pushing her forward.

They broke from the treeine into open ground just as the moon emerged from behind a cloud, illuminating the landscape.

In the distance, perhaps half a mile away, Thea could see lights the windows of a house, their destination so tantalizingly close.

Almost there, Nathan encouraged, his breath coming in harsh gasps now just a little further.

Behind them, their pursuers emerged from the forest as well, shouting to each other as they spotted their quarry in the moonlight.

More shots followed, kicking up dirt at their feet, but miraculously missing them as they ran.

They were perhaps halfway to the ranch house when Nathan suddenly staggered, falling to one knee.

Thea skidded to a stop, turning back to him in alarm.

“Go,” he urged, trying to rise, but failing.

“Get to Sullivan.

Tell him what’s happened.

” “I’m not leaving you,” Thea insisted, kneeling beside him.

In the moonlight, she could see fresh blood staining his shirt, not from his arm, but from his side.

One of the shots had found its mark.

“Thea, please.

” Nathan’s voice was strained with pain and urgency.

There’s no sense in both of us being caught.

“Then well be caught together,” she replied firmly, helping him to his feet.

She wrapped her arm around his waist, supporting as much of his weight as she could.

“Lean on me.

” They moved forward again, much slower now.

Nathan’s breathing labored as he fought against the pain and weakness of his wounds.

Behind them, their pursuers were gaining ground.

the sound of their footsteps and voices growing louder with each passing moment.

Then, just as Thea was certain they would be overtaken, a new sound reached them, the thunder of approaching hoofbeats, coming not from behind, but from ahead.

Riders moving fast toward them from the direction of the ranch.

Sullivan, Nathan gasped, relief evident in his voice.

It has to be.

The riders, four of them, Thea could now see reached them moments before Wils’s men would have.

They formed a protective circle around Nathan and Thea, rifles raised toward the approaching threat.

“That’s far enough,” one of the riders called a big man with a voice that carried authority.

“This is Sullivan property.

You’re trespassing.

” Wils’s men slowed, then stopped, clearly reassessing their odds against four armed riders.

“We’re here on Mr. Wils’s authority,” one of them called back.

“That woman is his fiance, kidnapped by Drake here.

” “That true, Nathan.

” “The lead rider, Sullivan,” Thea assumed, asked without taking his eyes off the interlopers.

“No,” Nathan replied, his voice weak, but clear.

“Thea is my wife.

We were married in lead 10 days ago.

Judge Wilson officiated.

Sullivan nodded once.

You heard the man.

The lady’s his wife.

Legal and proper.

Now you boys have a choice.

You can turn around and head back to Deadwood with your hides intact, or you can press this matter and leave my property feet first.

Your decision.

There was a tense moment as Wilks’s men considered their options.

Then with muttered curses, they began backing away.

“Mr. Wilks ain’t going to be happy about this,” one called as a parting shot.

“Mr. Wilks can take it up with the territorial court if he has a complaint,” Sullivan replied evenly.

“Now get Only when the men had disappeared back into the forest did Sullivan dismount and approach Nathan and Thea.

” “You look like hell, Drake,” he said.

But the concern in his voice belied the harsh words.

Let’s get you to the house.

Mary’s got a healing touch with bullet wounds.

With Sullivan’s help, Nathan was lifted onto one of the horses.

Another rider dismounted to offer his horse to Thea, choosing to walk the short distance back to the ranch house.

As they set off, Nathan reached out to grasp Thea’s hand briefly.

“Told you we’d make it,” he said with a weak smile.

Yes, you did, she replied, blinking back tears of relief and fear.

Now, let’s get you patched up so I can properly scold you for being shot twice in one day.

His chuckle, though pained, was the sweetest sound Thea had heard all day.

The Sullivan Ranch house was a substantial structure, two stories of solid timber construction, with a wide porch wrapping around three sides.

Light spilled from every window as they approached, suggesting the household had been alerted to expect company.

A woman appeared at the door as they rode into the yard, tall and capable looking, with graying hair pulled back in a nononsense bun.

This, Thea surmised, was Mary Sullivan, Tom’s wife.

Her business-like demeanor shifted to concern as she saw Nathan’s condition.

Bring him straight to the guest room,” she directed, already rolling up her sleeves.

“Janie, fetch my medicine box and plenty of hot water.

” A young girl of perhaps 16, the Sullivan’s daughter, presumably hurried to obey, while Tom and another man helped Nathan from his horse and into the house.

Thea followed closely, unwilling to let Nathan out of her sight after all they had been through.

The guest room was simple but comfortable with a large bed that seemed to dwarf Nathan as he was laid upon it.

Mary Sullivan immediately began cutting away his bloodied shirt to expose the wounds beneath.

Bullet went clean through the side, she announced after a brief examination.

Painful and he’s lost blood, but it didn’t hit anything vital by the grace of God.

The arm’s just a graze, though it needs proper cleaning.

She glanced up at Thea.

You his wife? Thea nodded, finding her voice.

Yes, Theodora Drake.

Mary’s eyes softened slightly.

Well, Mr.s.

Drake, if you’ve got a strong stomach, I could use your help.

If not, there’s coffee in the kitchen.

I’ll help, Thea said firmly, rolling up her own sleeves.

For the next hour, Thea assisted Mary in cleaning, disinfecting, and bandaging Nathan’s wounds.

The bullet wound in his side was indeed a clean through and through, as Mary had said, but it required careful cleaning to prevent infection.

The graze on his arm was less serious, but still needed attention.

Throughout the process, Nathan drifted in and out of consciousness, sometimes gripping Thea’s hands so tightly during the most painful moments that she feared her fingers might break.

When they had finished, Nathan lay pale but resting comfortably, a light sheet drawn over his bandaged torso.

Mary wiped her hands on a clean towel, nodding with satisfaction at their work.

“He’ll be weak for a while from the blood loss, but he should heal well enough with proper care and rest,” she told Thea.

“Your husband’s a strong man, your husband.

” The words still sent a flutter through Thea’s chest, though they had been legally married for over a week now.

She looked down at Nathan’s sleeping face, struck by how vulnerable he seemed in repose, the usual alertness and strength temporarily absent.

“Come,” Mary said gently, touching Thea’s shoulder.

“You need food and rest yourself.

He’ll sleep for a while now with the law denim I gave him.

” Reluctantly, Thea followed Mary to the kitchen, where a simple but hearty meal awaited beef stew, fresh bread, and strong coffee.

Tom Sullivan sat at the head of the table, his weathered face grave as he listened to Thea recount the full story of her near marriage to Wilks, her escape with Nathan, their hasty wedding in Leed, and the subsequent pursuit that had led them to the Sullivan ranch.

Bartholomew Wilks, Tom said when she had finished.

I’ve had dealings with him, not a man who takes defeat gracefully, as you’ve discovered.

Will he continue to pursue us? Thea asked, the fear that had been momentarily forgotten during the crisis of Nathan’s injury returning in full force.

“Hard to say,” Tom replied thoughtfully.

“His men saw you were protected here.

They know I’m not a man to be trifled with, but Wilks himself.

He shrugged.

A man with his resources and temperament might not be so easily discouraged.

What can we do? For now, you’re safe here, Mary assured her, refilling Thea’s coffee cup.

No one crosses onto Sullivan land without Tom knowing about it.

Nathan can recover his strength, and you can catch your breath.

After that, she exchanged a glance with her husband.

Well, one problem at a time.

Despite her exhaustion, Thea found it difficult to leave Nathan’s side that night.

She sat in a chair beside his bed, watching the rise and fall of his chest, listening to his breathing for any sign of distress.

The events of the past days, the confrontation at the cabin, the night ride through the forest, the desperate flight across the meadow played through her mind in an endless loop.

She must have dozed off eventually, for she woke with a start to find pale morning light filtering through the curtains and Nathan’s blue eyes open, watching her.

“You shouldn’t sleep in a chair,” he said, his voice rough, but stronger than she had expected.

Bad for your back.

You shouldn’t get shot.

She countered, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

Bad for everything.

That brought a weak smile to his face.

Fair point.

He tried to shift position and winced.

How bad is it, Mr.s.

Sullivan? Says, “You were lucky the bullet went through clean.

Didn’t hit anything vital.

” Thea poured a glass of water from the pitcher on the bedside table and helped him drink.

But you’ve lost blood and you need rest.

Nathan nodded, settling back against the pillows.

Sullivan’s men.

Did they drive off Wils’s men? Yes, they’re gone.

For now, at least.

Thea hesitated, then asked the question that had been nagging at her.

Nathan, what happens next? We can’t impose on the Sullivanss indefinitely, and Wilk seems determined to.

She trailed off, unsure how to articulate the threat that still hung over them.

“We’ll figure it out,” Nathan assured her, reaching for her hand.

His grip was weaker than usual, but still warm and reassuring.

“Together.

Together.

” Such a simple word, yet it carried so much meaning in that moment.

Thea squeezed his hand gently, a silent acknowledgment of the promise in that single word.

The next few days fell into a quiet rhythm at the Sullivan Ranch.

Nathan’s recovery progressed well under Mary Sullivan’s capable care and Thea’s constant attention.

By the third day, he was able to sit up in bed for short periods.

By the fifth, he insisted on moving to a chair by the window for part of the day.

Thea found herself welcomed into the household routines.

She helped Mary with cooking and mending, learned about ranch operations from Tom, and even assisted young Janie with her studies.

The girl was bright and eager to learn from someone with Thea’s education.

In the evenings, they would gather in the main room after supper.

Tom would tell stories of the war, of his and Nathan’s shared experiences, tales that revealed a side of Nathan that Thea was only beginning to understand.

The quiet competence she had observed in him, she now realized had been forged in the crucible of battle at a young age.

When Nathan was finally strong enough to join them for meals at the table, the conversation turned inevitably to their situation with Wilks.

He’s been quiet these past days, Tom reported.

No sign of his men in the area, according to my hands, who have been keeping watch.

That doesn’t mean he’s given up, Nathan said, his face grim.

Just that he’s rethinking his approach.

What about legal recourse, Mary suggested.

Your marriage certificate should settle the matter, shouldn’t it? In theory, yes, Nathan agreed.

But Wilks has influence with many of the territorial officials, and even if the law is on our side, he could make life difficult in other ways.

Perhaps we should leave the territory entirely, Thea said quietly.

It was a thought she had been considering for days.

Start fresh somewhere Wils has no reach.

The suggestion hung in the air, met with thoughtful silence.

Thea watched Nathan’s face, trying to gauge his reaction.

Was he willing to abandon the business he had built, the life he had established in Dakota territory for her sake.

“Where would you want to go?” he asked finally, his eyes meeting hers with an intensity that made her breath catch.

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

“Denver, perhaps, or San Francisco, somewhere with opportunities.

” Nathan nodded slowly.

Denver is growing fast.

Good place for a freight business.

But Thea, he hesitated.

Is that what you want? To continue our arrangement in a new place? The question caught her off guard, though perhaps it shouldn’t have.

Their marriage had begun as a practical solution to an immediate problem.

Now that they were considering a more permanent future, it was natural to revisit the nature of their relationship.

I Thea began acutely aware of the Sullivan’s presence, though they were tactfully pretending absorption in other tasks.

Perhaps we could discuss this privately.

Nathan nodded, understanding in his eyes.

Of course.

Later that evening, when the household had retired and they were alone in Nathan’s room, Thea still insisted on sleeping in the chair beside his bed.

Despite Mary’s offers of a separate room, they returned to the conversation.

“You asked if I wanted to continue our arrangement,” Thea began, finding it difficult to meet his gaze.

“The truth is, Nathan, I’m not sure what our arrangement is anymore.

” “What do you mean?” His voice was gentle, encouraging.

When we married in lead, it was meant to be in name, only a legal protection against Wilks.

She twisted her hands in her lap.

But since then, we’ve faced danger together, depended on each other.

You’ve been injured protecting me and I.

She took a deep breath.

I find that my feelings have become complicated.

Nathan was silent for a long moment, and Thea feared she had said too much.

Then he reached out, taking her restless hands in his.

Thea, look at me.

She raised her eyes to his, finding not the discomfort or rejection she had feared, but a warmth that made her heart race.

When I offered marriage as a solution, I meant what I said about it being your choice about respecting your freedom, he said.

But I wasn’t entirely honest with myself or with you.

What do you mean? From the moment I saw you step down from that stage coach in Deadwood, so clearly unhappy, so trapped, I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

His thumb traced circles on the back of her hand.

I told myself I was just helping someone in need, doing what any decent man would do, but it was more than that.

Thea hardly dared breathe, afraid to break the moment.

As Nathan continued, “These past weeks, getting to know you, seeing your courage and intelligence, “My feelings have become complicated, too.

” A smile touched his lips at the echo of her words.

“If you wanted to dissolve our marriage when this is over, I would respect that.

But if you were willing to see if we could build something real from this beginning, “I would like that,” Thea said softly, her heart so full she could barely speak.

“Very much.

The look that passed between them then was more intimate than any physical touch.

Something was shifting, transforming their marriage of convenience, evolving into something deeper, truer.

” Nathan raised her hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles.

“Then wherever we go next, we go as true partners, husband and wife in more than just name.

” “Partners,” Thea agreed, liking the sound of the word and all it implied.

The next morning brought an unexpected development.

Tom Sullivan returned from a trip to the nearest settlement with a newspaper from Deadwood and a grave expression.

You both need to see this,” he said, spreading the paper on the table where they were having breakfast.

The headline jumped out immediately.

Mining magnate Bartholomew Wils dead.

Nathan took the paper, reading aloud for Thea’s benefit.

Bartholomew Wils, prominent businessman and owner of several productive mines in the Black Hills, was found dead in his Deadwood home yesterday morning.

Initial reports suggest he suffered a stroke or heart failure, though the coroner has yet to make an official determination.

Wilks, aged 58, was a founding member of the Deadwood Business Association and a significant force in the development of the mining industry in Dakota territory.

He is survived by no immediate family.

Silence fell as the implications of the news sank in.

Thea felt a complex mixture of emotions, relief certainly, but also a strange sadness for a man whose life had ended in such solitude with no immediate family to mourn him.

“This changes things,” Nathan said finally, looking up from the paper to meet Thea’s eyes.

“Yes,” she agreed.

“But we still need to decide what happens next.

The threat from Wilks might be gone, but the questions about their future remained.

If you wanted to return to Deadwood, Nathan began cautiously.

You want to? Thea asked, studying his face, he considered for a moment.

My business is there, my cabin, but after everything that’s happened.

He shook his head.

It would be understandable if you wanted a fresh start elsewhere.

Thea reached across the table to take his hand.

Nathan, these past weeks have taught me that home isn’t a place, it’s the people you share it with.

Deadwood, Denver, San Francisco.

It doesn’t matter to me as long as we’re together.

The smile that spread across his face then was like sunrise breaking over the hills.

Together it is then.

Partners, partners, she echoed, her heart full.

They remained at the Sullivan ranch for another week, allowing Nathan to regain his strength fully before undertaking the journey back to Deadwood.

The time was well spent.

Thea and Mary Sullivan developed a warm friendship, while Tom helped Nathan plan for their return and the future of his freighting business.

When they finally departed, it was with promises to visit again soon and an open invitation for the Sullivanss to stay with them whenever they came to Deadwood.

“Take care of each other,” Mary said, embracing Thea warmly.

“And remember, you always have friends here if you need them.

” “Thank you,” Thea replied, blinking back unexpected tears.

“For everything.

The journey back to Deadwood was uneventful, a welcome change.

After their dramatic flight from the town weeks earlier, they traveled by wagon, taking their time, stopping to camp under the stars each night.

These evenings beside the campfire were perhaps Thea’s favorite part of the journey, talking late into the night, learning more about each other, planning their future together.

Their relationship was evolving, growing deeper with each passing day.

The tentative acknowledgment of feelings they had shared at the Sullivan Ranch, blossomed into something more profound.

Nathan’s kisses, once respectfully restrained, became more intimate, more passionate.

Yet he remained mindful of her comfort, never pushing beyond what she was ready for.

We have time, he would say, his blue eyes warm with promise.

All the time we need.

When they finally arrived in Deadwood, the town seemed somehow changed.

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