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6. An Unexpected Friend

It was Thursday. Three days since they'd discovered fresh boot prints in the abandoned barn, and a full week since the attack that left Carly Sage despoiled and Dimitri Belikov stolen from his wife and home.

Thanks to a slight lift in the weather, the travellers had managed to cover another hundred miles along the southern trail, but their progress meant little to Rose. They'd found no further sign that Dimitri had passed this way, and even though she refused to admit it aloud, Rose was beginning to fear she might never see her husband again.

'I'll get more water,' she announced flatly as soon as the evening meal was done, taking the empty stew-pot from beside the fire and making for a chattering mountain stream that passed behind their camp - swollen to the width of a small river thanks to the recent rainfall.

Mr O'Hara watched after her with a frown. The deputy was growing quieter with every passing day - that oppressive, prickling kind of quiet you might sense just before a storm - and Christian knew it was only a matter of time before she exploded. Or imploded. He wasn't sure which option would be worse.

'Stinking Rebs!' As soon as Rose was out of sight of the camp she threw the tin-pot to ground and kicked it into the stony shallows of the stream - cursing the men who had taken her husband.

Anger was easier to express than grief, and she expressed it freely; skirts hitched up to her knees; water arcing through the air with every sweep of her foot; the pot making a satisfying sploosh-clink sound every time it skidded to a new resting place.

'You're behaving like a child.'

She stopped, panting. Dimitri's voice spoke so clearly in her mind he could have been standing just beyond that nearest tree.

'That's why you love me,' she retorted aloud.

'Yes, I love you, Roza,' he replied. His eyes would have been smiling, even if he was scolding her. 'Don't ever forget that.'

'I'd never!' She was shocked he would even suggest it.

'I know.' There was a warm sensation on the top of her head - just where he would have rested his chin. 'And remember, Roza, I might not be here with you but you're not alone. You don't have to do this alone.'

She turned, almost expecting to see him behind her, but all she saw was the distant glow of the campfire with two tents silhouetted beside it. Faint strains of music and the occasional burst of laughter carried towards her on the breeze, and Rose conceded that her husband was probably right. Sulking in the dark wasn't going to help her find Dimitri any faster, but a night of warmth, rest and good company might be just the thing to lift her spirits - and give her the courage to start her search again in the morning. Hastening to retrieve the abandoned cooking pot, she filled it to the brim with fresh water and returned to the ragtag band who awaited her by the fireside.

For the sake of convenience and propriety, Mr O'Hara and his colleagues occupied the larger of the two tents, while the women's smaller one (supplied by Adrian and Eddie) was pitched opposite. Returning to her place beside Sydney Sage, Rose rugged up in a cocoon of blankets and let herself be drawn into the relaxed, cheerful mood around the fire.

Mr Sarcone was seated on a folding chair, one leg slung over the other as he strummed a lively rhythm on his guitar. A few feet away from him, a partially inebriated Mr Barnes bellowed out the words to a familiar tune - his voice raised loud and brash - changing each refrain of 'Sweet Betsy' to 'Sweet Sydney' in a bid to steal the lady's focus away from the book she was reading.

At some point over the past few days, Dean Barnes had finally made the connection that Sydney was a Miss and not a Mrs, and, having nobody waiting for him back at home, his favourite pastime was trying to commandeer the pretty young nurse's attention in any way possible. His current attempt was failing miserably but he continued on unperturbed, belting out the dubious adventures of Sweet Sydney and her lover Ike with great gusto;

Long Ike and Sweet Sydney got married of course,
But Ike getting jealous obtained a divorce;
And Sydney, well satisfied, said with a shout,
"Good-bye, you big lummax, I'm glad you backed out."

Sarcone joined in with a rousing harmony at the end of each verse, and Christian observed their antics with quiet amusement - the pipe dangling from his lips generating more smoke than the campfire.

'Would you like me to be your Long Ike, Sweet Sydney?' Mr Barnes called out suggestively when the song was done. 'My mother didn't christen me Ike, but I assure you I am very long!'

He looked to the men either side of him for congratulations at his rapier wit; winning himself an encouraging smirk from Mr Sarcone and a jaded shake of the head from Mr O'Hara.

Sweet Sydney lowered her book and fixed Mr Barnes with a beady stare, acknowledging him for the first time that evening.

'No thank you, you big lummax.'

Barnes stalled, surprised and aggrieved by the rebuff, but nobody paid him any mind - their attention diverted by a rare and unexpected sound.

After a week of eerie, troubled silence, Deputy Belikov was laughing. Side-splitting, cheek-streaming laughter. She wasn't even sure what she was laughing at, but it felt so, so good.

'What?' Mr Barnes asked, offended.

'Nothing, you big lummax!' she choked, then caught a smile twitching at the corner of Sydney's lips and burst into another irrepressible fit of mirth, giving up on all possibility of conversation and retreating her head under the blankets until the paroxysm had subsided.

By the time Rose re-emerged, Barnes had wandered off into the darkness to relieve himself, Sarcone was humming a haunting ballad as his fingers slid thoughtfully over the guitar's strings, Christian had nodded off in his chair, the pipe still hanging precariously from the edge of his mouth, and Sydney was in the same position as before, nose buried in her book.

Getting up to stretch her legs, the deputy returned to her tent a short while later balancing a hot cup of coffee in each hand.

'You know, that song got me thinking...,' she handed one of the drinks to Sydney and resumed her seat, wrapping her fingers around her own cup for warmth. 'I'm not saying that you do have a Long Ike in your life at the moment, but if you do have one... and if it's who I think it is, I wonder how he's going right now?'

They hadn't spoken of Adrian since the barn, but Rose had noted her companion's unusual mood swings over the past few days and wondered if Mr Ivara might be the cause of the trouble.

The nurse eyed Rose suspiciously over the rim of her coffee cup then lowered it to her lap, keeping her gaze averted in its depths.

'I wouldn't rightly know,' she answered quietly. 'Probably halfway through a bottle of spirits by now.'

A frown flitted over Deputy Belikov's face. Adrian had been a heavy drinker, smoker, gambler and philanderer when she'd first met him, but from all accounts - and what she'd witnessed with her own eyes - he was a reformed man. On the other hand, he did still own the largest drinking and gambling establishment from Sacramento to Salt Lake City, so it would be difficult to convince Sydney that Mr Ivara was the embodiment of innocence. She decided to take a different tack.

'He spoke to me before we left Cottonwood Ranch,' Rose divulged. 'About you.'

Anger pinched at Sydney's lips and cheekbones.

'He didn't!'

'Well, he did... and maybe you should hear what he had to say,' the deputy pressed on quickly. 'Mr Ivara said that he tried to convince you not to join me on this journey - not because he thought it was his place to tell you what to do, but because he was afraid for your safety.'

Rose knew from the other woman's expression that she was treading on thin ice.

'He begged me to keep you safe so he could prove himself to you when we return. I believe his exact words were I need her to know I'm not a total pig, and something about being willing to do anything to deserve your love.'

Sydney's mouth quivered, though it may have been out of anger not sentimentality.

'I'm still not sure why you're avoiding Adrian, but from what I can tell he's hopelessly in love with you. Maybe when all of this is over you can... give the matter some more thought. Just... have a conversation with him? Give him a chance to show you his intentions are serious?'

The blonde woman's chest heaved once or twice then she leaned in closer to Rose.

'I don't think I'll be taking any advice about Adrian Ivara from you, Mrs Belikov, considering the two of you already have a history together.'

A sound in the darkness alerted them that Dean Barnes was returning, and Sydney lowered her voice to a coarse whisper.

'Don't misunderstand me, deputy. I realise that you are worried for your husband and you're clutching at any opportunity to keep your mind busy, but will you please stop interfering in my personal life. I'm here to repay my debt to Sheriff Belikov, not to be a pawn in your ridiculous match-making schemes.'

Barnes could have passed by the other side of the fire to get to his tent but he took the longer route so he could share a final word with his reluctant sweetheart.

'Are you sure you won't reconsider my offer, Sweet Sydney?' he pressed, his words slurring together ever so slightly. 'I have a property in Denver - with a pretty ranch-house just waiting for a woman's touch. Your touch-...'

'For crying out loud! Won't you both give it a rest?!' Sydney sprang up and stormed away from the fire, leaving Mr Barnes confused, Rose severely peeved, and Christian prising open his sleep-drugged eyelids to ask Sarcone what on earth he'd missed.

Half an hour later, the campfire was beginning to die down and Raphael Sarcone set down his guitar to prepare for bed.

'Mr O'Hara looks beat,' he announced to anyone who was listening. 'You want first watch, Barnes? I'll take over at midnight.'

The chances of being robbed by roadside bandits this far away from the main trails was slim, but they were moving deeper into Shoshone Indian territory and the travellers had agreed to take turns at playing lookout to ensure everyone's safety and peace of mind.

Dean Barnes shrugged in agreement but Sydney Sage had other ideas.

'No. I'll take first watch,' she amended. 'Mr Barnes has been drinking and cannot be trusted to stay alert. I have some reading to catch up on anyway, so I'll take a longer shift. Mr Sarcone, I will wake you at one.'

The plan met with everybody's approval. Goodnights were shared (Rose and Sydney's being rather a chilly one), and within minutes, four weary bodies were curled up in their tents asleep, while one remained awake and watchful with a book open on her lap; occasionally getting up to stir the fire and peer out into the darkness.

Something awoke Rose from her slumber and she glanced around warily. The moon had climbed higher in the sky. The fire was low but still alight. There were a volley of snores coming from the gentlemen's tent across the way, but something felt out of place...

Sydney! Where was Sydney? The deputy sat up in a panic, then made a conscious effort to calm her breathing when she saw a familiar figure returning from the direction of the stream; the cooking-pot heavy in her arms.

'Coffee?' Rose asked blearily, watching the other woman set the pot over the fire.

She did wonder vaguely as to why Sydney had gone to fetch more water. There had been plenty left over after she'd made their night-cap only a few hours earlier.

Miss Sage looked uncomfortable.

'No.'

The deputy yawned, her mind still heavy with sleep.

'Are you having a bath?'

It was absurd to be having a bath outdoors in the middle of a cold winter's night, but she couldn't figure out why else Sydney would need a full pot of water.

'No.'

Lord Almighty, this woman could be irritating sometimes.

'Well, what are you doing, then?' Rose demanded a straightforward answer. '...What have you got there?' she frowned curiously, noticing that Sydney was holding one hand behind her back with forced casualness.

'I'm doing my washing,' Miss Sage responded at last.

An awkward silence followed.

'Washing... at midnight?'

The nurse had clearly gone off her rocker.

'Washing,' Sydney emphasised the word meaningfully.

'Washing?' Rose was still at a loss.

Sydney looked to the heavens and sighed.

'You know. The monthlies. Washing.'

The deputy's eyebrows shot upwards in understanding.

'Aahhhh. Washing.'

She looked away to allow Miss Sage some privacy, and once the soiled cloths had been set to soak in the warming water, Sydney came to sit with her companion by the fire.

'I was dreading this ever since I realised we might be away for longer than a few weeks. Thank goodness the dressmaker in Argenta supplied plenty of linens or we'd both be stuck tearing up petticoats to absorb the flow,' she declared softly. 'When are you due?'

'Due?'

For some reason Rose thought of the due date for Lisa's baby and wondered how her best friend was faring.

'Your menses. What date?'

The deputy winced.

'I don't really... have them. Not for over a year.'

It was Sydney's turn to look confused, but she quickly donned her professional nurse's manner.

'It is unusual but not unheard of for a woman of your age to experience early menopause...'

Rose looked horrified. She'd only heard the word spoken once before. When she had her first blood, Alberta explained to her that it would happen again every month until her child-bearing years were over, at which point she would go through 'the change' - a new state of being that came with hot flushes, night sweats and an irritable temper. Rose told her foster-mother that she must have been going through the change ever since they'd met. Alberta smacked Rose with a wooden spoon and revoked her dessert privileges for a week.

'But that isn't the only possibility,' Miss Sage assured her hurriedly. 'Poor diet can have an effect.'

Even wrapped in blankets it was obvious that Rose was not lacking in nutrition.

'...Or perhaps a reaction to stress?' the nurse suggested. 'Did something significant happen around the time that your menses ceased?'

There was a heavy silence before Deputy Belikov replied.

'The bridal six.'

Last year's incident at the chapel - when Lisa's forced wedding to Victor Dashley ended with the deaths of Natalie Dashley, Mason Ashford, Reverend Karp, and three of Mr Dashley's manservants - had been widely publicised in the papers. Some bright spark had coined the killings the bridal six, which always annoyed Rose because in actual fact it should have been the bridal seven. Nobody seemed to remember that Madam Kiroy had also been murdered earlier that day for trying to prevent the atrocity from occurring.

'Of course,' Sydney nodded grimly. 'I should have realised.'

'That's right. You were there, weren't you?'

Rose had been secluded in the hours after Mason's death - suffering from shock and unable to leave her bed - but Dimitri told her later how Doctor Sage and his daughter Sydney had been called to attend to the wounded.

'It was... a shocking situation,' the nurse frowned at she recalled the event. 'I'd witnessed plenty of serious injuries before, of course, but I'd never seen burns as extensive as that, or a woman stabbed so brutally...' she cut off suddenly, eyes widening with embarrassment when she remembered that it was Rose herself who had stabbed Natalie Dashley (in the defence of Mason Ashford according to Sheriff Peterson's official report). 'I'm sorry. That was insensitive.'

Rose shook her head.

'It's alright. It was a long time ago. I'm a deputy now. I've had to kill people for my job. You learn to deal with it.'

'I don't think you'd ever really forget though,' Sydney was facing Rose but looking past her into the distance, her fingers knotting in her skirts.

'Of course not,' Deputy Belikov felt the conversation was getting too close to home and decided to steer it in another direction. 'But your job's not easy either. My kind make the messes and your kind are the ones who get stuck cleaning them up. That day at the chapel for instance... What you did taking care of the survivors was admirable. Mr Ivara said his gunshot wound was so severe he might have bled to death if it weren't for you.'

Miss Sage made a very unladylike sound.

'It was barely even a flesh wound. I've never had such a ridiculous patient in my life.'

'Why? What happened?' An evil thought popped into Rose's head. 'Did he cry? You have to tell me!'

Adrian had always glossed over the finer details of the story, which meant it was probably embarrassing, and therefore the deputy very much wanted to know the truth of it.

'No, he didn't cry - though the behaviour he demonstrated was far more deplorable in my opinion.'

'Oh yes?' Rose invited her to continue.

The nurse hesitated a moment - not wanting to break the sacred bond of physician-patient confidentiality - then conceded to spill the beans.

'The bullet caught his vastus medalus... the inner thigh just above the knee,' she explained when the deputy looked at her blankly. 'Apparently, Mr Ivara had administered himself a full bottle of brandy to ease his pain before I arrived on the scene. When I approached his bed to clean and dress the wound he... he kept on insisting I remove his trousers so I could take a better look at the affected area.'

A smile spread slowly across Rose's face.

'And what did you tell him in return? I bet it was good!'

Miss Sage looked prim.

'I said, whatever problem he had in his pants he could keep it to himself, and then I got out my scissors and sheared off both his trouser-legs at the knee.'

The deputy's smile broadened.

'And then what happened?' she asked with a cheeky gleam in her eye, but she'd already pushed her luck as far as it would go.

'Nothing happened, deputy,' Sydney instantly clammed up, silently rebuking herself for having said so much. 'Now, I'm sorry to leave this scintillating conversation, but I must attend to my washing before Mr Sarcone wakes for his guard duty and figures out what I am doing. It's bad enough we have to spend every waking and sleeping moment in the presence of those... uncouth creatures,' she nodded to the men in the opposite tent, 'but I simply could not tolerate it if any of them were to learn of my present condition.'

The blonde woman was already on her feet and motioning towards the fire when Rose - feeling oddly nervous - found her voice to ask a final question.

'Um... Sydney?'

Miss Sage looked back sharply.

'Yes?'

'In your medical opinion, do you think my... situation is reversible?'

The nurse smoothed a hand over her neatly-pinned hair, her expression doubtful.

'I only ask because my husband and I hope to have a family one day,' Rose dipped her eyes to her hands, '...when we're together again.'

Sydney glanced across to check that the menfolk were still sleeping soundly then stepped closer to answer, her voice unexpectedly tender.

'The female body is a wonderful and mysterious thing, Mrs Belikov, and I'm afraid there is much we don't yet know about it's workings. I am unaware of any simple solution to your problem, but there are specialists in Boston and New York who deal with cases such as yours. When we get back to Saint's Town I'd be happy to ask my father to write you a letter of referral if you'd like?'

A week ago, when Rose imagined her future all she could see was a dark wall extending on and on forever. Just now, a small door opened in that wall and a crack of light shone through it.

'I'd like that,' she answered quietly, and when she looked up at the strange, stern woman before her, she was surprised to see a friend.

There was no rain that night. Instead, a continuous drizzle of sleet blew in from the snow-peaked Sierras to the west; coating the ground in a layer of watery ice and leaving patches of glistening white melting between the endless tufts of grass that sprung up along the trail. Despite the slippery conditions, the horses performed admirably and a good distance was covered before the travellers halted at midday.

The lunch-time meal was usually a hurried affair, but today they all sat talking around the small cooking-fire for nearly an hour. By this time tomorrow, the three surveyors would be splitting off from the main trail south to commence their trek into the foothills of the Sylvania Mountains, leaving Rose and Sydney to continue on southwards alone. Needless to say, the women were bombarded with more information and advice than they could possibly remember.

'You should carry a gun, Miss Sage,' Barnes counselled, taking his own from its holster and lining it up with an imaginary target. 'If an Indian comes your way, you be sure to shoot him dead - before he sees you and plants an arrow in your chest.'

The man jerked his wrist up as he pretended to pull the trigger, making a sharp cracking noise with his mouth that made Sydney jump.

'I don't think you should be worrying about that, miss,' Sarcone disagreed. 'I doubt an Indian would want to kill you. He'd sooner drag you home with him and make you his bed slave. If I were you, I'd be carrying two guns.'

'I will not be taking, wearing or shooting a gun!' The look on Sydney's face was downright frightening. 'I'm a nurse. I'm trained to heal people, not kill people... Get that thing away from me!' she raised an arm to ward off the pistol that Dean Barnes was holding out for her to try.

Mr Barnes persisted.

'Come on. It's easy. I'll teach you how.'

'Leave it, Barnes,' Deputy Belikov cautioned him. 'The lady doesn't want a gun - and she doesn't need one. I'll be there to protect her.'

Sarcone scoffed.

'A fight between an Indian and a white woman! What are you going to do? Scratch his eyes out?'

Unlike Sydney, Rose was carrying a gun, and she settled her hand on the holster, challenging Mr Sarcone to insult her one more time.

'Ooh. I'm so scared,' he mocked.

'Careful, gentlemen,' Christian warned, an irritating smirk appearing at his lips. 'The deputy here also has a nasty reputation when it comes to hair-pulling.'

He didn't tease Rose as relentlessly as he once would have, but every now and then he dropped in a jibe to rile her up a bit. At least when she was angry at him, it meant she wasn't worrying about Dimitri, and a kicking, cussing Rose was a lot more fun to be around than the serious stranger she was becoming.

'...But if you do come into contact with any Indians in your travels, Miss Sage,' Mr O'Hara added more seriously, 'resorting to violence is not the only option... You could always just talk to them.'

'And how do you expect us to do that, Mr I-have-an-answer-for-everything?' Rose demanded rudely. '...What in the hell?!' she pulled away when Christian unexpectedly grabbed her hand.

'Hold still, dammit,' he strained to keep a grip on her, manipulating the position of her hand so that her index and middle fingers were pointing up to the sky, the remaining two fingers tucked beneath the thumb. 'There,' he forced her hand up to head-height, just beside her right ear.

'Get off me, Christian!' she was still struggling against him.

'Friend,' he said, like it was meant to mean something.

As soon as he let go, Rose immediately dropped her hand and shook it vigorously to rid herself of any residual man-germs, but Mr O'Hara caught her arm again and formed the shape a second time.

'Friend!' he repeated firmly. 'My father taught me Indian sign language when we first travelled west to negotiate with the Cheyenne, and it's a skill that has saved my life on more than one occasion. When we make camp tonight I can set you up with some basic vocabulary to practice together. You're an intelligent, educated woman, Miss Sage. I'm sure you can pick up at least thirty words before we part ways tomorrow. Rose... you can just aim for ten.'

His eyes lit up at her reaction.

'Why don't we begin right away?' Sydney was eager to broaden the already-vast frontiers of her knowledge. 'What do you suggest we learn first?'

Rose was not as enthusiastic. 'How about the sign for you're an insufferable pig,' she glared at their tutor.

Mr O'Hara rubbed his chin in thought.

'Well, I could teach you that phrase, but I fear it would be too advanced for a simple, gun-toting yahoo like yourself. Perhaps we should start with something easier.'

With a cry of indignation, Deputy Belikov launched herself at the man, but Christian was taller and faster; barking with taunting laughter as he hot-footed it out of striking range.

Uff.

Mr O'Hara stopped abruptly, clutching the back of his head then looking at his hand in confusion. Dirty ice-crystals were sliding from his fingers and down his neck as the poorly-packed slushball melted on impact. 'Hey!' he frowned at Rose, but she was staring at Sydney Sage in shock and admiration.

'That's enough, children,' Sydney announced demurely, wiping her damp gloves on her skirt. 'We have lessons to attend to.'

White-man. Indian. Peace. River. Yes. Go. Horse-rider. Trade.

The girls practiced for half an hour before the decision was made to press on with the afternoon's ride. Sydney excused herself to attend to her personal needs - disappearing to the far side of the spring they had camped by to remain out of sight of prying eyes - and the others set about readying the horses so they could be on their way as soon as the nurse returned.

'Miss Sage has been gone for a while,' Dean Barnes observed, when they were all ready to leave. 'Do you think I should go and check on her?'

He hoped to have a moment with the lady alone - to apologise for his drunken behaviour the night before, and to renew his offer of a union - be it marriage or simply one glorious night to remember.

'No. I'll go,' Rose said firmly, handing her reins to Christian and heading off briskly to retrieve the missing nurse.

A set of footprints along the spring's muddy bank made it easy for Rose see which way Miss Sage had gone, and when she rounded a fir tree by the water's edge, her eyes fell on the familiar blue puff of Sydney's skirts and the soft gleam of ash-blonde hair bowed low to the ground.

What on earth is she doing? Rose stopped and squinted. Sydney was crouched by the water to rinse her linens, but her posture was unnaturally still; her head turned to the side, staring at something out beyond the deputy's line of sight.

'Rose?'

The plaintive, desperate note in Sydney's voice made Deputy Belikov's stomach roll over, and a flash of tawny-gold springing from behind a cluster of rocks had her heart hammering against her ribs.

It was the biggest cat Rose had ever seen. A lone male - bold and hungry. Muscular shoulders and hips propelled the mountain lion forwards with powerful, loping strides; each sinuous movement bringing it one step closer to its prey.

'Sydney!' Rose shrieked, snatching her pistol from its holster.

Not again. She couldn't lose somebody again.

There was no time to hesitate. She just lifted her arm and pulled the trigger.

Sydney screamed.

The cat screamed.

Rose didn't scream. She was running - faster than she thought she could. Swooping down over the bloody mess of fur and tangled limbs, and tugging at the big cat's shoulders until she managed to drag it away from the body trapped underneath.

'Did I hit you? Did it hurt you?' her hands slid fretfully over Sydney's blood-soaked neck and torso, searching for the site of the wound.

Not again. Not again. Not again.

'Stop, Rose,' Miss Sage clutched weakly at the deputy's wrists. 'I don't think it's my blood.'

Rose followed her gaze, shuddering in relief and disgust when she saw what her bullet had done to the animal's neck. Everything is alright, she told herself over and over - even though she didn't really believe it. Everything's going to be okay.

'Miss Sage!'

'Deputy Belikov!'

Panicked voices shouted out from the distance. The men were on their way.

'Where are you?'

'Are you hurt?'

'Rose?' Sydney was struggling to sit up; her voice raw and unguarded, her eyes bright with fear. 'I'm so glad you came to check on me.'

A deep and wordless sorrow haunted the deputy's expression.

'Me too,' she whispered in reply. 'Me too.'

Rose took one more look at the body of the wildcat and realised she needed to be far, far away from this place.

'Come on. Let's get out of here.'

She helped Sydney up from the rust-tinged mud and gripped her friend's hand tightly as they made their way towards the approaching voices.

That afternoon there were no jokes from Mr O'Hara, no complaints from Mr Sarcone, and no romantic overtures from Mr Barnes. They all rode in silence, travelling in close formation and keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings.

Nobody wanted to admit how close they had come to losing Sydney that day, but Miss Sage herself was not the type of person to dwell on her own misfortunes. If anything, she was less concerned about her own brush with death and more concerned about making up for lost time on the road; pushing to the front of the group and setting a brisk pace that saw them cover a further fifteen miles before sundown.

Deputy Belikov, however, was very concerned. She hovered at Sydney's flank every step of the way, and refused to let the woman out of her sight even after they'd made camp for the evening.

'You can stop watching me now,' Sydney peeked out at Rose from the toasty depths of her bedding, already half-succumbing to the welcome pull of sleep. 'I'm fine. Honestly.'

'I know.'

Rose didn't turn away.

Sydney tossed to find a comfortable position then settled and stilled, cracking one eye open.

'It's getting kind of creepy.'

The deputy rubbed her own eyes tiredly.

'Alright, alright... Just don't go sneaking off in the night and getting yourself killed. I promised your sister I'd bring you home safely. And Adrian Ivara.'

At any other time, Sydney would have made a defensive reply or shut down completely, but now her eyes welled with tears and she rolled over quickly to hide from her friend's gaze. One of the people Rose just mentioned had been on her mind almost constantly since the attack this afternoon, and - to her shame and confusion - it wasn't Carly.

Sleep did not come easily for the nurse or the deputy, and when Mr O'Hara woke at midnight to begin his watch-duty shift, he saw a woman sitting up by the fire.

'Rose?'

Christian approached tentatively, crouching in front of her and running a worried glance over her rigid posture, furrowed brows and vacant, staring eyes.

'What's up, soldier?' he asked quietly, watching on in surprise and pity as Rose's face crumpled - a pair of fat, glistening tears rolling unheeded down her cheeks, followed by another and then another.

The man sat quickly and put an arm around her shoulders, drawing her into a firm embrace and allowing her to weep without interruption or judgement.

In a little while the crying stopped.

'Do you want to talk about it?' Christian removed his arm and turned a little to face her.

The loss of the arm - even if it belonged to Christian O'Hara - set Rose off on another bout of crying and this time the deluge lasted even longer. When the tears stopped for the second time, Mr O'Hara was wise enough to leave his arm where it was.

'I think Dimitri is dead.'

Rose stared into the fire, and Christian followed suit.

'Why?'

She took a shallow gulp of air before answering.

'Well, the signs are hardly optimistic... He took a bullet to the head, Christian,' she turned to look at him, and her face betrayed the true extent of her despair. 'His own family didn't want me to go after him - Yeva told me outright that this search was hopeless. According to Aunt Rhonda, my future is too bleak to even speak of. The only evidence we've had that he is still alive is those bootprints we found a few days ago, and there's no guarantee they were even his. And today Sydney nearly died on my watch... Maybe I should stop acting like a child - hoping he's alive despite everything that's happened - and just accept the truth.'

There was a long silence.

'Does he feel dead to you?'

Rose stalled, then shook her head.

'Then there's no reason to give up yet,' Christian said it like a fact.

The deputy looked up at the starless midnight sky and blinked hard.

'But what if... what if he's alive and so badly injured he dies before I find him?... Or what if I find him and he's so hurt that he doesn't remember who I am anymore?'

She was about to break down again, but Mr O'Hara stopped her in her tracks.

'Not possible,' he shook his head decisively.

'How do you know?' she almost pleaded.

There was another silence as Christian weighed up something in his mind then finally decided to speak.

'Do you want to know something I've never told anybody before?'

Nod.

He loosened his hand from around Rose's shoulder - testing to see that it was no longer required - then retrieved his arm.

'Last summer I was working a survey mission up north towards the Washington-Utah Territory border,' he paused to scrounge around in his pockets for his pipe, striking a match on the ground beside him then holding it over the bowl of the pipe and puffing several times to light the tobacco.

'I remember,' Rose filled the lull. 'Lisa wrote to me and said you'd been delayed - something to do with the terrain, wasn't it?'

'Yes and no.'

There was a sudden glow as the charred top-layer of tobacco ignited, and a smoky apple scent filled the air.

'It was the final day of the job. I was taking one last look around before re-joining my colleagues to head home, when I came across a wild blackberry bush - well, I thought that's what it was, but I must have identified it incorrectly.'

He looked into the fire, his right hand never idle - the match he'd just used to light his pipe flicking and rolling over the back of his fingers.

'I remember being... graphically ill. Within ten minutes I was on my hands and knees, and after that I didn't have the strength to even drag myself away from the pool of my own shit and vomit. I don't know how long I lay there, but eventually my vision started to fade, and that was when I remembered her. Lisa.'

Rose wrapped her arms around her knees and clung on tightly.

'I saw her face before me - as clear as day - and I knew I had to see her again. I had to tell her I loved her one more time.'

Mr O'Hara paused to take a long draw of his pipe, his eyes lost in the flames of the campfire.

'What happened then?' Rose prompted softly.

'Damned if I know,' he glanced in her direction with a brief, dry smile. 'The next thing I remember was waking up in a strange bed with a whiskery old Mormon woman watching over me. She fed me some soup and I fell asleep again. When I was finally well enough to speak I begged her to tell me where I was. I don't know how I did it, but I managed to walk fifty miles in three days - apparently I turned up at the front gates of the settlement demanding to see my wife at once, or I'd burn the place to the ground.'

Rose made a strange choking sound - somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

'You think that's funny?' Christian's face flared with a hint of the old antagonism, annoyed that she would make light of his private confession.

'It's a little bit funny,' her mouth twisted upwards. 'Even devoid of your senses and covered in your own shit you resorted to pyromania,' a laugh bubbled out of her mouth, and Christian conceded to see the funny side - glad that they could share a small moment of lightness in the midst of all the dark.

'But I'm glad you made it back,' Rose added, more quietly. 'Lis has loved you since the day you pulled her out of that creek, you know. She wouldn't be the person she is now without you in her life.'

She paused, a sly expression creeping around the corners of her eyes. 'I, on the other hand, have always considered you a rude, arrogant, argumentative beast... but maybe,' she drew the word out, 'just maybe, I might finally understand what she sees in you.'

Mr O'Hara gave her an appraising look.

'I suppose you're not a complete waste of air yourself, Deputy Belikov.'

They shared a pair of lopsided smiles before Christian grew more serious again.

'For what it's worth, I know Dimitri loves you more than anything in this world. If I can come back from a severe case of food poisoning and exposure, then he can come back from this. That's what you do for the one you love.'

Rose looked at the man in amazement before dropping her eyes to fiddle with the ring on her left hand.

'Did he tell you he loved me?'

Rose's husband was normally very guarded about his feelings around others, and she sometimes wondered if anybody (other than Lisa) knew the depth of Dimitri's devotion to her.

'Well, not directly,' Christian admitted, 'but given that we were sleeping in adjacent rooms the night you and the sheriff stayed at Cottonwood Creek Ranch last week, it was pretty hard not to overhear him proving how much he loves you!' his eyes danced wickedly and Rose's mouth dropped wide open.

'You... you snooping pig!'

'Hey - I'm the innocent one here!' he shrugged, his expression anything but innocent. 'All I was trying to do was get a good night's sleep, but somebody was enjoying his bread and butter too loudly. I think from that little demonstration alone, we both know that your beloved sheriff will be racing back to your side the very second he is able.'

Rose strongly considered punching the insolent blaggard, but at the last minute she leaned in and hugged him fiercely instead.

'Thankyou... for everything,' she rested her forehead on his shoulder, wrinkling up her nose at the tobacco smell that clung to his clothing.

'Anytime, kiddo,' he wrapped one arm around her back and held her until she was ready to pull away.

Aware that her eyes were beginning to close, Rose crawled the few feet back from the fire to her tent and stretched out beside Sydney.

'Psst, Christian!' she lifted her head to get his attention.

'Mmm?' he wandered over, peering into the tent to find out what she wanted.

'If you tell anybody I cried tonight, I'll kill you with my bare hands.'

Christian was silent a moment, digesting the threat.

'And if you tell anybody I shat myself, I'll set your eyebrows on fire.'

Rose beamed into the darkness, and within a minute of resting her head on the pillow she was fast asleep.

.

Author's Note:

Well that was a long time between chapters - please accept my humblest apologies. Remember to leave a review so I can send you a chapter preview/progress update for Chapter 7 :)

The Sweet Sydney song is based on an actual cowboy ballad of the mid-1800's called 'Sweet Betsy of Pike'. You can read the full lyrics on the website Legends Of America if you feel so inclined (I get a lot of my wild west intel from here - it's an amazing site).

How much would it suck to get your period riding on horseback every day and camping with a bunch of ignorant men at night - before pads/tampons were invented?! Awkward!

I had the idea for Sydrian's first meeting way back at the end of the original DB story so I'm REALLY glad I finally got to include it now! Any guesses as to what Sydney is hiding about her & Adrian? I promise answers in the next chapter.

And some more headway on Rose's fertility issues - what do you think is going to happen with that, I wonder?! :P (*I'll give you some solid Dimitri answers next chapter too - hopefully that will give you a bit of a break from wondering about what's happened to him*)

Man-germs - for the record, they don't exist. In the 1860's 'germs' in general didn't exist (well, they were actually everywhere, but scientists only figured that out around the 1880's). So man-germs is inaccurate on every level. But I still think Rose wouldn't want Christian to hold her hand!

The RoseXChristian scene at the end of the chapter was inspired by a scene between Hawkeye & Hotlips in M*A*S*H - when they finally open up to one another after a life-threatening situation, despite being frenemies for so long. I love writing for this couple (but not as 'a couple' - ew!)