Nora smiled as she came out of the shop where she had been working. "Miles, it's good to see you!"
"You too," Miles agreed, hugging her. "You look good with the short hair."
"You like? I thought I could use the change."
"It suits you," Miles nodded.
"Come on around back so we can talk," she said. She led him to the back of the shop where any conversation would be over shadowed by the black smith on one side and the paper mill on the other. "So why did you come all the way out here? We're almost at the edge of the Republic."
Miles hated to break that smile of hers. But this had to be done. By him and no one else. "Nora, I have important news."
"From Bass?" Her eyes sparkled. "Is he calling us home?"
"No." Miles licked his lips. "No, but it did come from Philly. See, the militia came by my bar."
"What did they want?" Nora asked quietly.
"They wanted to hang new posters," Miles explained. "They left the wanted list behind and…oh, hell. Just look for yourself."
Nora took the list from him. "I'm sorry," she murmured.
Miles frowned. Then he remembered his name was before hers. "Yeah, it sucks," he agreed. "Could be worse though."
"True. At least he wants you alive." Nora smiled at him. "It must mean he still cares."
"Nora…keep reading."
Nora skimmed the list. As her eyes fell on her name, she dropped it. "Miles…that was my name. That was my maiden name."
"I know," Miles agreed quietly.
"Oh god, what have I done?"
"Nothing, Nora."
"I just…why is he so mad at me? What did I do wrong?"
"Believe me, this has nothing to do with you," Miles insisted. "This…this is all Bass."
Nora shook her head. "No, no, no. This is all my fault." Miles watched as she began pacing. "I wish I could just talk to him. I…we…I made him so angry. I never should have left."
"Nora, he was beating you! He pointed a gun at us and he was damn well prepared to use it!"
"None of this wouldn't' have happened if I had let him in!"
Miles grabbed her. "It was never your fault. I don't give a damn how drunk Bass was. He had no right to ever lay his hands on you like that." He looked her right in the eye. "It is not your fault."
"It damn well feels like it," she hissed.
"It might. But that doesn't make it true."
"Then explain something to me," she said with tears in her eyes.
"What?"
"Why does my husband want me dead?" she sobbed.
"I don't know," Miles sighed. "I just don't' know."
Nora ripped herself from his arms. "Damn it, Miles! I have nothing now! NOTHING!"
"That's not true," Miles argued.
"Isn't it?" Nora pointed at the crumpled piece of paper on the ground. "Because I have lost my home, my children and now my own husband doesn't care if I live or die. You look at that list and tell what exactly I have left."
"You've got me!" he sanpped. "And I know that's a piss poor excuse for what you used to have but damn it, Nora. You've got me."
Nora allowed him to pull her into a hug. "I just want him to love me again," she sobbed quietly into his shoulder.