The ride up the mountain was difficult during the day, but at night, it was treacherous. More than once, Dutch felt the horse’s hooves slip off the side of the trail. He held tight and rode slowly, finally making his way to the top. He hitched his horse a ways away from where the shack used to be, not knowing what or who he’d run into. He’d seen brief flashes of light as he rode the trail, making him think there would be a fire, but so far he hadn’t seen anything.

Dutch crept over to where there was a line of trees that separated the area where the security shack had been and where the miners usually ate their lunches and congregated in the morning before they set to work. He peered through the trees, staying hidden from whatever could be on the other side. There was a fire, its flames hidden by the trees and the remnants of the shack. Beside it were four men.

Dutch crouched as low as possible and moved along the line of trees, trying to catch a glimpse of faces. He wanted to be prepared for what he was walking in to. He recognized Ab as his hair was a dead giveaway. So much so that Dutch briefly wondered why the man didn’t cut it. It was long and looked as if he never combed it. He wore hats but none of them hid the mess on his head. The man they’d met the other day, Jack Apple, was there, along with a man Dutch hadn’t met and Wade. It was all Dutch could do to keep from jumping out of his hiding place and attacking Wade. Instinctively he knew it had been him that had lit the wick.

He watched for a while, not seeing much. The men were standing around talking, sharing some food. It looked like someone had stopped by Edwin’s and grabbed a few meals. Just when he started to get impatient, Holden appeared by his side. “Not yet. They’re about to get to the good stuff.”

Dutch rolled his eyes. Holden had always been a little less than sophisticated when he talked, even for a derelict. He liked to try to turn most things into a joke, and more often than not, it came out as him sounding like he wasn’t up to the task he’d been given. Dutch knew better though. He knew Holden and his ways. The two had been a team for many years. He turned to where his old friend was watching the other men through the trees. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Holden looked back at him.

“And don’t even say, ‘tell you what?’ because I know you can hear what I’m thinking, and even if you couldn’t, you already know what I meant,” he whispered.

His friend seemed to fade from view for a moment, right there in front of him. “What are you?”

The look in the man’s eyes was terrifying and reassuring at the same time. “Everything I did, I did to protect you and my daughters. As for what I am, I’m not sure there’s a good answer for that. I can tell you I was sent here to return to my former duties, protecting you and my daughters.”

“Do they know? Can they see you?”

Holden shook his head. “They don’t need me like you do, and unless they do, they won’t be able to. There have been a few moments when I’ve given one or both of them a word of advice, but nothing more than a voice in the wind.”

Sudden understanding settled over Dutch. He remembered a few times when Nessa had seemed off and then suddenly wasn’t. Plus, she’d mentioned a voice the other day.

“You have to help her get back to New York,” Holden explained. “Everything is arranged. If she can manage to stay out of the Whyos’ way for a day or two, the plan I had in place for this situation before they left so abruptly should come to fruition. She needs to go back though. It’s what’s best for everyone.”

Dutch nodded. “I will. First thing tomorrow, I’ll head to the house on the hill, and I’ll tell her everything she needs to know.” Quickly returning his attention to the men around the small fire, Dutch saw Ab and Jack, the man in the duster exchanging packages—packages that he’d never seen before—and then he saw small bags of what looked like silver. That was easy to understand. The part he didn’t get was when Ab handed one of the bags directly to Wade.

Rachel moved around the clinic, collecting linens and soiled clothes for her to take out and wash in the tub. Though she didn’t enjoy that particular chore that came with the job, she was looking forward to the way that working the cloth against the board helped her to think. It was one of the few chores at the clinic that required nothing but muscle, so her brain would be free to wander. And wander it did.

She heated the water, and after pouring it in the tub, she set to work, her mind immediately going to the conversation with her father last night after Dutch’s abrupt departure from supper. He didn’t think that Freddie was the right man for Rachel. Told her that he was nothing more than a hooligan, and that he’d wind up getting her into trouble. Rachel had tried to explain how Dutch had already impacted her life positively, but he wasn’t hearing any of it. Even Nessa and Kara had tried during dinner. Her father’s displeasure with the man Rachel was falling in love with had been palpable around the table.

Rachel moved the linens to the rinsing tub and started to wring them in her hands. She twisted and turned the fabric until her hands were red and raw before she hung them on the line that stretched from the back of the cabin across to a tree beside where the creek began. Rachel tried hard not to break down in tears. She knew that she was falling for, or rather already had fallen for, Dutch. The moment she saw him that night behind the mercantile, she’d known she’d see him again. Known that there would be more to their relationship. That he’d be significant in her life and not just for saving her from whatever that one group of outlaws had had planned for her. She turned back to her pail but ran smack into a broad, hard chest.

Rachel knew immediately it was Dutch. Her arms lifted of their own volition and wrapped around his back, hugging tight to his body. As a sense of peace washed over her, erasing all the doubt her father had planted, she whispered against his chest, “I’m learning that you have a knack for timing.”

He laughed and it vibrated through his chest where Rachel had her ear pressed against his skin. The sound filled her with a sort of hope. “Happy to be of service.” Rachel melted against him as his arms came up and around her back, returning her embrace, and they stood there holding each other.

“Want to tell me what happened?”

Rachel lifted her head and let her hold on him loosen. She looked up at his face and shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

Dutch’s eyes were dark. “It’s not nothing. Let me help.”

Rachel shook her head again. “What are we doing?” She had no idea where the words had come from. Her mouth hadn’t even conferred with her brain before saying them. They’d just come out.

Dutch looked taken back. Rachel was horrified. She tried to pull away. Started to mumble apologies and things like never mind. But Dutch held her, letting her wiggle but not escape. Rachel appreciated that he let her fight. It made her feel like she had some control over the situation. She squirmed until the fight in her died and she stood, encircled in Dutch’s embrace, embarrassed and downtrodden.

Dutch moved one hand from her back to her waist and the other to her chin, where he lifted her face to meet his gaze. He was breathing heavily, and Rachel’s heart started to beat faster. Her mouth ran dry, and her cheeks got hot as her hands got sweaty. She went to lift them, to place them on his chest, but thought better of it as he leaned toward her and used his grip on her waist to slowly pull her closer. Rachel held her breath as he moved even closer, anticipation growing thick between them. He was going to kiss her, and she suddenly realized that she was going to let him. Not only let him, but she wanted him to. With a rush of sudden bravado, Rachel wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him to her, her lips crushing against his.

Dutch had been waiting for her to push him away or to tell him to back off, but none of that happened. Instead, one second he was dreaming of what it would feel like to have his lips on her softer ones again, and the next second it was happening. The instant he registered what was happening, he took over the lead, moving his lips against hers and pulling her body close to his, all thoughts being consumed by the fire that raged between them.

Dutch gently pulled away, wanting to gasp for breath but knowing that breathing would never be the same ever again. Breathing used to be easy, carefree. Not anymore. Now he knew he’d need her in order for his lungs to feel full. He knew what he needed to do. He had no idea how she’d react, but he was doing it anyway. He pulled in a deep breath. “What I’d like to be doing is marrying you.” Finally answering her question, he ran a hand down the side of her cheek. “Rachel, would you do me the immense honor of becoming my wife?”

The smile that slowly formed on her face warmed his body in a different way than their kiss had. Happiness, pure and complete, filled him as he pulled her in for a tight hug and lifted her off the ground, twirling her around as she nodded and said, “Yes,” softly but excitedly.