Welcome back after the break - I hope you've all had a relaxing Christmas/New Year's :)

When we last saw Rose, she was travelling east from Santa Fe in search of Dimitri & the mysterious Sergeant Forrest. I think it's time to give her a bit of hope, don't you?!

(Note: There is a highly offensive word in this chapter. I apologise for using it, and hopefully you will be able to forgive me considering its use in this context/time-period.)

10. Any Creed or Colour

DEAR ROSE (STOP) MY SOURCES HAVE TURNED UP OVER SIXTY FORRESTS CURRENTLY SERVING WITH THE CONFEDERATE FORCES (STOP) MOST ARE ENLISTED MEN THOUGH WE DID FIND A DOZEN OFFICERS AS WELL (STOP) OF THOSE THERE ARE FIVE SERGEANT FORRESTS (STOP) TWO EACH FROM GEORGIA AND VIRGINIA AND ONE FROM TENNESSEE (STOP) I WILL GET BACK TO YOU WITH FULL NAMES AND REGIMENTS AS SOON AS I'VE VERYIFIED THE RECORDS (STOP) STAY STAFE (STOP) ABE (STOP)

The telegram was burning a hole in Deputy Belikov's coat-pocket as she pressed eastward for Fort Smith. It was only another fifty miles to the union fort in Arkansas. All Rose had to do was make it through this last stretch of Indian Territory, then she could stop at the army telegraph office and contact her father for an update. It had been a long and troubled journey chasing Dimitri more than halfway across the country, but now, for the first time, Rose felt like she was finally catching up.

'Dammit to hell!'

The deputy drew her horse to a halt, gazing at the trail ahead (or, more rightly, the lack of a trail ahead). The Arkansas river had broken its banks, and it's cold, gushing waters cut a dark line across Rose's path from north to south as far as the eye could see.

'I'm afraid you'll have to turn back, miss,' a stranger approached on foot to speak with her.

The man appeared to be a trader of some sort. He was travelling with an older man and a woman, who were both watching her warily from their places by a small cooking fire - their two covered wagons set up end-to-end to shelter them from the biting winter wind.

'River's the highest I've seen it in ten years,' he informed her gruffly. 'No way of crossing safely. We're heading back to the last mining town to wait out the week before trying again. You're welcome to travel with us if you like. My wife would appreciate the company...,' his eyes dropped to the pistol at Rose's hip and the rifle holstered in easy reaching distance on the saddle, 'and we can always do with a bit of extra protection on the road.'

'I'm afraid I can't,' Rose frowned in reply. 'I need to get to Fort Smith and I can't spare another week's delay. Which way is it to the next ford?'

The trader shook his head.

'Don't be foolish, girl. There's not another crossing for at least fifteen miles - and there's no guaranteeing that one will be passable either. You're crazy if you think you can make it to the fort in these conditions! You'll drown... or freeze.'

Rose stood her ground. Dimitri felt so close she could almost smell his aftershave, and she wasn't going to let a little flood throw her off the scent.

'Call me crazy if you like. Just tell me which direction to go and I'll get on my way.'

The man sighed in resignation.

'Will you at least let us feed you before you go off and get yourself killed?' his brow wrinkled in fatherly concern. 'And if there's anything you need for supplies, I'm sure we can settle on a fair price.'

Sometime later the deputy set out again; buoyed by the fullness in her belly and the warmth she'd received from the fire and the unexpected company.

It was slower traveling away from the trail. Rose stuck to the river as far as she was able, but there were long stretches where the trees grew so densely along the swollen riverbank that she either had to bring her horse to a walk to navigate the difficult terrain, or range out of sight of the water for clearer ground - at the risk of losing her way.

By the time she found the ford it was already mid-afternoon. The river still travelled swiftly here but it was shallow enough for a horse to walk across, so Rose urged her mount carefully into the murky, frigid water and - after a tense minute or so - made it to safety on the other side.

The danger was not over, however. The deputy's trousers had been drenched to the knee in the crossing, and suddenly all of her plans and schemes to find Dimitri shrunk to one simple goal - getting herself and her horse warm and dry as quickly as possible.

Finding a suitable place to make camp, she had just lowered herself stiffly from the saddle when she paused; sniffing the air like a hound.

Smoke. And charred rabbit.

Rose had been so focused on taking care of her own bodily needs that she'd failed to notice the thin wisp of smoke rising above the tree-line only a short distance away from her. Somebody must be cooking nearby. Now that she was paying close attention, she was able to make out the sound of muted voices carrying just above the gurgle and hiss of the river behind her. Men. Two, maybe three.

For a fleeting moment she hoped that - by some miracle - fate had led her directly to Dimitri and the rebels who had taken him, but then she remembered Abe's telegram. If that information was reliable, Dimitri would be well east of here by now. Whoever was out there were strangers, and they may not take kindly to their privacy being disturbed.

Making a quick assessment of her situation, Rose realised she only had two choices; slip away before she was noticed - or reveal herself to the strangers while she still had the advantage of surprise. Deciding on the latter, the deputy tied her horse to a nearby tree and drew her rifle from its holster on the saddle. If the mystery campers were friendly she might be able to share their fire, possibly trade them something for information about Dimitri or Sergeant Forrest. And if they were hostile?... Rose cocked her gun and crept soundlessly towards her prey.

'Gentlemen.'

Deputy Belikov stepped out into the clearing and three pairs of eyes darted wildly towards her.

'No sudden movements please,' she advised. 'You... show me your hands.'

The young man who was kneeling over the rabbit on the fire pivoted slowly - raising his hands to show that he was unarmed. Large, black hands; strong, wind-chafed and calloused.

'If you're going to shoot, get on with it,' the dark-skinned youth looked up at her fearlessly - his body unmoving but his eyes flashing with contempt. 'Better aim right though, missus, 'cause none of us is going back to the plantation without a fight.'

Plantation? Rose suddenly remembered a bounty poster she'd seen displayed at the last mining settlement; a four-hundred dollar reward for the capture and return of '2 NEGRO SLAVES' - escaped from a cotton plantation just south of the Texas border.

Pity and anger welled up in the deputy's chest as she considered the injustice of a world where one man could place a monetary value on the life of another. How could anybody think that was acceptable?

'I'm not here to take anyone back to a plantation,' Rose clarified quickly, though she kept her gun raised, 'and I'll only shoot if one of you tries to harm me. Now, can I lower the rifle so we can all talk like civilised folk?'

After a tense silence, the man by the fire nodded in agreement and the others followed suit.

Rose lowered her weapon slowly - checking for any sign of deceit or resistance - then disappeared to retrieve her horse. A minute or two later she returned to sit with the group, and set about loosening her bootlaces as fast as her stiff fingers would allow.

'Ford,' she explained, wringing two small puddles of water from her trouser cuffs then setting her boots by the fire to air.

Disappearing behind her horse, Rose found her winter day dress and pulled it on over her head; taking a moment to finger the smooth, glass bead that hung from a ribbon around her neck. If Abe's parting gift was meant to be a good-luck talisman, then perhaps fate had led her to cross paths with these runaway slaves for a reason?

A sudden gust of wind reminded the deputy that she should return to the warmth of the campfire. Tucking the necklace safely beneath her collar, Rose heaved her heavy suit-coat on for extra warmth then kicked off the damp trousers and stockings that from beneath her skirt. With a fresh pair of stockings balled up in her pocket, she emerged from behind the horse to retrieve her boots and lay the other items out to dry.

'Need a blanket, missus?'

Rose looked up from re-tying her bootlaces to see the youngest of the three men by the fire holding out a threadbare rug, which he'd taken from around his own shoulders. He looked to be in his mid-teens; slighter in build than his companions, underfed and not dressed anywhere near warmly enough to be camping out in December. Even so, he was willing to offer Rose - a white woman and a stranger - his most valuable possession.

'It's Rose, not missus,' she corrected quickly, not wanting to be addressed like she was the wife of a rich slaveholder. 'And thank-you for offering, but I'm fine. It's already generous enough you allowing me to share your fire, Mr...,' she let the last word dangle, fishing for a name.

'Don't tell her anything,' the first man warned sharply.

They were already taking a big risk allowing a stranger into their camp and he didn't want to give away any information that might lead to their capture and punishment.

But clearly the younger boy disagreed.

'I'm Nic,' he stood awkwardly, removing his hat out of respect.

His voice was deep but cloudy - as though it had not long broken and was still settling into its new timbre.

'Sorry about my brother. Denis just wants to keep us safe. You won't tell anyone about us will you?'

Rose walked across to shake the boy's hand (much to his surprise).

'It's a pleasure to meet you, Nic,' she told him warmly. 'You and your brother have nothing to fear from me. I won't breathe a word of our meeting to anyone.'

The deputy glanced down at their joined hands and frowned when she noticed a strip of white cloth peeking out from beneath the young man's sleeve.

'What's that on your arm? Are you wounded?'

She reached out curiously but Nic pulled away, cradling his left hand protectively to his chest.

'Dog bite,' Denis advanced, standing protectively beside his little brother. 'They set the hounds on us a couple of days ago. Nic only made it because Lev wrestled the cur off him and took care of it before the rest of the pack caught up,' he nodded to the silent young man by the fire, who didn't acknowledge them in any way.

While Denis was clearly the leader of the group, Lev was the most physically intimidating of the three. His clothing hugged tightly to his broad shoulders and hard-muscled chest, and there was something raw and bitter in his expression that made Deputy Belikov hope she wouldn't have any reason to fight against him.

'Who set hounds on you?' Rose looked at him in dismay, horrified that these men - barely more than boys really, about the same age or younger than herself - were being hunted down like animals, just because they wanted the right to be free.

'Does it even matter?' Denis shrugged, moving back to the fire to turn the rabbit on the coals. 'Soldiers, planters, vigilantes after the bounty money - or just wanting to check if we have red blood the same as the rest of you... Whoever it was, we lost them. They might catch up to us again, and next time they might win, but we're free for now and that's all that matters.'

Following his brother's lead, Nic sat down again and beckoned for Rose to take the spot beside him, but she shook her head. Instead, she went to fetch Sydney's medial satchel from the horse and returned to kneel by the youngest boy's side. The deputy took his hand carefully and - after some coaxing - he allowed her to examine the wound on his wrist and bind it in a fresh dressing.

'So where will you go?' Rose glanced up from her work, directing the question to Denis. 'Is there anywhere that's safe for you?'

There was a snort of derisive laughter from Lev - the first sound he'd made since Rose had arrived.

'Who said we want to be safe?' he said darky, staring into the campfire's flames with a hard expression.

Rose felt confused.

'What he means is, we didn't escape to be safe...,' Denis explained. 'We escaped to be free - and to fight for the freedom of our brothers and sisters still suffering in bondage.'

A new earnestness lit his expression, which reminded Rose of Mason.

'Fort Smith is recruiting blacks to join the Union army,' Denis continued, 'to fight against the Confederates who enslaved us. We're on our way to sign up.'

'Fort Smith?' the deputy's ears pricked up at the name. 'That's where I'm headed too. I'm only this far south because the main trail was flooded and I had make a detour.'

Nic leaned forward eagerly to catch her attention.

'Why don't you come with us then?' he suggested. 'We could all...'

'No,' Denis refused bluntly. 'Her horse would only draw unwanted attention, and if anybody sees us with a white woman there'll be big trouble for us - and for her. It's too dangerous.'

'But...,' Nic complained.

His brother shot him a warning glare, but the argument didn't escalate any further thanks to an interruption from Rose.

'Actually, I think travelling together might be a good idea,' she said, thinking aloud. 'I was hoping to push on a few more hours this afternoon and make it to the fort by tomorrow evening, but my horse could do with a rest and so could I.'

It was a three day journey to Fort Smith by foot - a longer delay than she wanted to make - but if Rose joined the men just for one day, she'd have the luxury of a solid night's sleep knowing the camp was well guarded, allow her horse a break from the urgent pace they'd been keeping, and still reach her destination only a day later than planned. Also - most importantly - she deeply admired the three runaways for their courage and resilience, and wanted to help them in any way she could.

'I won't be a burden,' she added, seeing Denis narrow his eyes in suspicion. 'I can pull my own weight. I have supplies I can share on the way; food, drink, spare bedding if anyone needs it,' she looked to Nic, hoping he would accept an improvement to the thin scrap of cloth he was huddled under. 'I've got weapons too, and if we do get attacked I'll stand and fight with you.'

'I still don't like it,' the furrow between Denis' eyebrows deepened. 'We don't know anything about you except your name. You could be a spy. You could be planning to betray us.'

Rose tried to ignore the insinuation that she might be a traitor.

'Look, I realise you have no reason to trust me, but we're heading in the same direction and I thought maybe we could help one another... But if you'd rather we just went our own ways...'

'She's got food, Denny. Just let her come with us... please?'

There was a rustle in the trees behind them and a scraggly youth emerged into the clearing; buttoning his too-short trousers and walking right up to the white woman to introduce himself.

'Name's Arthur, miss,' he grinned. 'Got any rum?'

The deputy was furious with herself for not considering that there might be anybody else nearby - even if was just a boy who had gone to relieve himself in the bushes - but the cheeky expression on Arthur's face quickly eased her tension and she grinned right back at him.

'No rum. But I could spare a bit of whiskey if you're interested?'

'She's in,' Lev announced from the other side of the fire, the stranger suddenly worthy of his attention.

'She's in?' Nic asked his brother hopefully.

Denis deliberated a moment or two longer then nodded.

'She's in.'

Between Denis' rabbit, a selection of canned goods Rose had purchased from the traders earlier that day, and a half-bottle of whiskey between the five of them, their late lunch turned into quite a feast.

Nic and Arthur spent the whole meal quizzing their guest about her home town and the adventures she'd had on her journey, while an ever solemn Denis asked probing questions about the nature of Rose's business at Fort Smith and her fighting skills, should they be required. (Lev was too busy savouring his food and drink to bother talking much.)

The group bonded quickly - sharing stories about their families and friends, and the latest scraps of news they'd heard about the war. There was even one moment of uproarious laughter when Rose and Lev both spied the last, lonely bean in the cooking pot and engaged in a fork and spoon battle to decide who would win the prize. Lev got the bean, but Rose felt like she was the winner when she noticed that their childish antics had made Denis finally crack a smile.

Some time later, the talking shifted to the subject of Sheriff Belikov, and a hush fell over the gathering as Rose told her story.

'It's been two months and two days since my husband was taken,' she spoke quietly, feeling the loss of him as strongly as ever, but also a sense of relief - like talking about Dimitri aloud made him feel more real, somehow. 'If I just knew he was safe it would be so much easier, you know?' she trailed off, her eyes becoming lost in the campfire as her fingers twisted at the wedding band on her left hand.

'I know,' a deep voice echoed hers, and Rose glanced up in surprise to see Denis hold her gaze for a long moment before looking away again.

'It's Tamara,' Nic explained afterwards, when the others had broken off into their own conversation. 'Denny's girl. She was with us when we escaped from the plantation, but then this happened...,' he held up his wounded arm, 'and she got separated from the group. 'I'm not sure if the dogs got her or if she's still in hiding somewhere. We heard a rumour about a place up in the mountains where people like us can go for refuge. I hope she made it there, but we'll probably never find out now.'

Rose glanced across at Denis and her feelings were torn in two directions; sorrow for his loss, but also gratefulness that her situation was different. Of all the families and loved ones that had been split apart by this war, Rose felt like one of the lucky ones. Dimitri might be gone, but at least she had a solid lead on where he might be and the means and freedom to keep searching until he was found.

The afternoon was wearing on when Denis stood up and announced that he would take first watch while the others got a few hours' sleep. They'd planned to travel by night - to decrease their chances of being spotted by Confederate troops, vigilantes, or any natives that populated this region of Indian Territory - and it was important for everyone to rest up before departing.

Rose shared out what bedding she had between them all, then, while the others were bunking down, excused herself to answer a pressing call of nature. Ranging away from the camp for privacy, she lifted her skirts and crouched in the bushes; completing her business in record time so she could hurry back to the warmth of the campfire. When she was done, Rose fished in her pocket for a folded page of the Santa Fe Gazette and smiled with morbid satisfaction as she tore the 'WAR NEWS' column in half and used it to wipe herself dry. The smile faded a few seconds later, however, when she heard the sound of a twig cracking sharply behind her.

The deputy startled and froze, her stomach rolling with fear. She didn't think Nic, Arthur or Denis would consider harming her, but perhaps Lev might be troubled enough or desperate enough to kill her for her horse and belongings?

But it wasn't Lev's voice that hissed in her ear.

'Gotcha, traitor.'

Before she could react, Rose's left arm was yanked behind her back - pushing her weight forward and restricting her movement - while another hand slid roughly around her throat, preventing her from turning to see her attacker.

'You like black men, do you, whore? Well I think I'm going need to remind you what a white man feels like.'

The stranger dug his fingers deeper into her neck - releasing her arm so he could unbutton his trousers.

Rose's mind flew to the image of Carly Sage in the barn (and a much earlier memory of being forced upon by her 'sweetheart' Jesse), but she didn't feel afraid. She felt angry. Very, very angry.

Armed with all the skills Dimitri had taught her (and some she had invented herself), Deputy Belikov collapsed forward so swiftly that her attacker overbalanced; losing his grip slightly as he pitched over the top of her. With a gasping breath, Rose wrenched the man's hand away from her neck and used the momentum of his falling body to flip him over so he landed heavily on his back.

The deputy's breathing was harsh and laboured as she gazed down at the person who'd just attacked her. He was young - no older than Dimitri - with piercing blue eyes and thick, sandy-brown curls that flicked up softly from beneath his slouched forage cap. If she'd seen him riding past on the Santa Fe Trail in his smart, grey cavalryman's uniform, she probably would have even thought him handsome. But not now.

The Confederate soldier looked up at her dumbly for a moment then his eyes sharpened with anger and contempt. Cursing loudly, he scrambled to stand up but Rose moved quicker; pinning the soldier's right arm to the ground with her knee, and taking some degree of pleasure from grinding his elbow into a sharp stone that was poking up from the dirt beneath him.

'That's not the way you speak to a lady, soldier,' she jabbed her knee in a little harder; drawing a small knife from her boot and flicking open the brass and deerhorn casing to extend the blade.

Alberta's unusual choice of wedding gift had drawn quite a few raised eyebrows, but Rose had been glad to receive something so beautiful and practical - though never more glad than now.

'Get off me, nigger lover,' the grey-coated soldier snarled, groping awkwardly for his holstered pistol with his free arm and attempting to take aim.

Denying him any advantage, Rose slashed out with her knife; blood springing thickly from the deep cut that opened on the back of his hand, and a series of expletives spewing from his mouth. With that injury, he wouldn't be firing a weapon anytime soon.

They both startled as a gunshot rang echoed in the background and the deputy's heart tightened out of fear for her companions. She knew she had to finish this fight quickly so she could go and aid the others.

'Time to give up, soldier,' Rose fended off a wild swing as the bleeding man tried to use his gun as a club. 'My name is Deputy Belikov and I'm arresting you for assault with intent to rape.'

She would have been quite happy to just kill the bastard, but she was a trained deputy sheriff and the law required her to mete out justice, not revenge.

The man's eyes bugged wide and then he laughed in delight.

'The boys are going to love this!' he smirked.

Seized by a new burst of energy, the soldier rolled unexpectedly and wrenched his good arm from beneath Rose's knee. Rising up on all fours, he lunged out violently to strike her with the barrel of his pistol.

He failed to make contact, however; flinching in surprise as Deputy Belikov let out a guttural cry and buried her blade in the side of his neck.

Dropping to the ground, the man scrabbled at his collar in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but it was no use and he knew it.

Rose knew it too.

She turned towards the campsite - mentally armouring herself for the fight to come - except a tug at her skirt detained her.

'Get off me,' she snapped, her eyes flaring with self-righteous anger as she spun around to defend herself.

The deputy had been expecting to beat off another weak attack, but when she looked down at the soldier lying at her feet, she was startled by the change in him.

Moments ago, the man's face had been cold, arrogant and determined. Now his handsome features were drawn with suffering, and his eyes shadowed with fear and regret.

'Let go of me,' Rose demanded quietly.

She felt no fear of him - only pity.

Letting go at last, the young man half-rolled onto his side and reached for his coat pocket.

'Ma,' he choked on the word, tapping the pocket feebly.

Rose's heart sank as she realised his meaning.

'You got a letter for her, soldier?' she asked sternly, crouching down to acknowledge his final request.

The man's behaviour towards her may have been despicable, but war did strange things to people and this was still somebody's son or husband or brother. Whoever he was leaving behind deserved to hear of his passing.

The soldier nodded once, groaning as the small movement sent a shock of pain through his body.

Rose reached out cautiously and unbuttoned his pocket to find a letter inside; the sloping script so heavy in places that the ink had bled right through the page.

'I'll see that she gets this,' the deputy slipped the letter into her own pocket, glancing over her shoulder when the sound of fighting at the campsite was punctuated by a scream of rage.

Time was up. She needed to go.

The soldier made a strange gurgling sound and the deputy turned to look at him once more, unable to make out what he was trying to say.

'I don't understand,' she frowned, leaning in a little closer.

'Sorry, ma'am... I'm sorry,' he whispered, his jaw trembling as tears of pain and regret slid down his cheeks.

'Me too,' Rose answered sadly, then hurried away to help her friends.

The fighting noises were already subsiding as Rose approached the campsite, and when she finally emerged into the clearing there was only silence.

'Denis. Report,' she demanded, her eyes darting around the scene of carnage that confronted her.

There were two Confederate soldiers on the ground. The man closest to Arthur had been stabbed in the chest with a kitchen knife - more than once apparently. Lev was standing over the other one; his eyes wild and a little frightened as he stared at the fist-sized rock that was clenched in his hand, dripping with blood.

Denis didn't answer, though - his whole focus on the boy that was cradled in his arms.

'The other one got away,' Nic explained in a small voice, and seconds later Rose was at his side; pressing her hands to the gaping bullet wound on his left arm - a few inches below the shoulder joint.

'My medical bag,' she called urgently to Arthur, who broke from his trance and ran to fetch the satchel.

'I tried to protect him,' Denis looked like he was going to be sick. 'I wasn't fast enough.'

Arthur arrived with the medical supplies and Rose did what little she could - dousing Nic's wound in alcohol and binding it with clean bandages. The deputy didn't know much about fixing gunshot wounds (she was normally the one causing them, not treating them), but she saw that the bullet had gone right through the arm and out the other side, which was a good sign. If they could just stem the bleeding he might be in with a chance. Whether he'd be able to keep his arm or not was another question.

'How are any of you even alive?' Deputy Belikov asked as she wrapped her warmest blanket around Nic's shoulders. 'Those soldiers were trained and armed. How did you overpower them?'

It was Lev who answered her.

'White men have called us docile and stupid all our lives. I guess they weren't expecting us to fight back.'

Rose shook her head slowly, too appalled to respond, but Nic didn't allow her time to dwell on the matter.

'You all need to go,' he reminded them. 'The other one got away, remember? He'll be back with friends and if you're still here...'

Everybody knew what that meant.

'I know what you're thinking and I won't hear of it,' Denis squeezed his brother's hand fiercely. 'We're not leaving you behind.'

'But you have to,' Nic shrugged. 'I can't keep up with you, and even if I could, they'll never let me sign up as a Union soldier with my arm like this. Just go, Denny. Fight for both of us. I'll be fine,' he finished bravely, jutting out his jaw to show just how fine he was.

'But...'

'He's right. You and the others should go,' Rose laid her hand lightly on Denis' arm to give him some of her strength. 'I'll stay and take care of him... Nic?' she dropped her eyes to the injured boy. 'You said something about a refuge in the mountains. How far is it from here?'

Nic looked uncertain.

'We don't know for sure,' Arthur chimed in, 'but the rumours say it's somewhere on the lower slopes of the Ouachita Forest - about forty miles south-east of here,' he pointed out the general direction.

'Then it's decided,' Rose said firmly. 'I'll take Nic on my horse to find the refuge... And you three get your cabooses out of here. Those uniforms are cavalry,' her eyes flicked to the dead soldiers on the ground, 'which means there'll be horses tied nearby. If you leave now and keep riding through the night, you might even make it to Fort Smith by dawn.'

Lev and Arthur looked at one another hopefully, but Denis still resisted.

'But what about your husband, Rose? You should be looking for him, not helping us.'

The deputy shook her head - brown eyes gazing into brown eyes.

'Dimitri would never leave an innocent to suffer if it was in his power to help. I know he'll understand.'

It was nearly morning when Deputy Belikov squeezed her charge's hand to wake him. The injured boy groaned softly as he lifted his head off Rose's back, gripping his good arm tighter around her middle when he realised that he could have fallen from the saddle in his sleep.

'Are we there yet, Rose?' Nic asked, his voice masked with pain and weariness.

The deputy turned her head to check on him, and the unfocused look in his eyes made her urge the horse on faster, although she didn't know exactly where it was they were meant to be going.

'I think we're close,' she lied, flashing him a smile of encouragment. 'Look. The forest is just up ahead. All we have to do now is find the refuge.'

Nic peered over her shoulder and sighed in relief, seeing a blanket of densely wooded peaks rising up from the darkness less than a mile in front of them.

He rested his head down again on Rose's shoulder and closed his eyes - too exhausted to do anything but deliver his whole trust into the hands of this woman who had put her own life on hold to help him... This white woman whose fierce compassion and unshakable belief in protecting the weak and helpless had rendered her colour-blind.

With one ear listening out for any changes to Nic's breathing, Rose kept her eyes on the way ahead. She didn't dwell on the fact that the forest was so vast they might take days to stumble across the mountain refuge (if it even existed). She'd decided several hours ago that if fate wanted her to save Nic from being captured by Confederate soldiers, then fate could damn well stay on her side until she'd gotten him to safety.

They reached the tree-line a short time later, and the deputy paused briefly before turning her horse's nose due east - following her gut and skirting along the northernmost edge of the forest.

Over the next hour, the world around them began to transform as night turned into day. The shadowy landscape gradually lightened; the soft, early morning light glinting on the surface of a sprawling lake to their left, and winking through the low hanging clouds that hovered like smoke over the treetops.

'What's that?'

Nick had woken again and was pointing off to something that seemed to be drifting above a tree-covered ridge to their right.

The deputy squinted, her eyes struggling to focus after a whole day and night without sleep. It was probably just mist... but if it was smoke?

'We should take a closer look,' she nodded, veering off towards the green sea of oaks and firs in search of civilization.

As soon as they stepped foot into the forest, the first thing Rose noticed was the change in temperature. Her face and hands felt instantly cooler, and she sucked in a deep breath of air; inhaling the musky scent of damp pine needles and decaying leaf litter that carpeted the forest floor.

It was darker here too - the trees-trunks so tall and close together that it seemed like the travellers were walled in on all sides. With visibility so poor and any number of unknown dangers ahead, Rose decided they would fare better if she carried on by foot. Sliding down from the horse, she took the reins loosely in one hand and guided the beast and its fragile cargo deeper into the forest; checking her compass regularly to maintain their chosen course and following the rising contour of the earth beneath her feet as it gradually delivered them to higher ground.

'I don't feel so good,' Nic murmured, less than half an hour into their trek.

The deputy stopped abruptly, grabbing the boy's leg as he swayed slightly in the saddle and noting with dismay that his arm had started bleeding again.

'Hang in there, Nic,' she pleaded with him, taking the brandy bottle from the medical bag and pushing it into his hands - hoping it might be enough to dull the pain. 'Just a little while longer and we'll be there.'

But the injured youth had no interest in the bottle - his eyes locked fearfully on something over Rose's shoulder.

Alerted to the fact they were in danger, Rose closed her hand over the pistol at her hip and turned slowly; her brain sifting frantically through all the possibilities of what might be waiting behind her.

It wasn't what she expected.

Their path was blocked by an Indian. A female. Shorter and slighter in frame that Rose, with an ageless kind of face that could have placed her anywhere between ten and twenty years old. Despite her small size, the girl looked as fierce as a full-grown warrior brave. Her black eyes flashed with hostility, and if her menacing expression wasn't enough to intimidate the outsiders, the bow and arrow in her hands certainly had the desired effect.

Friend.

Rose signed hurriedly, Christian's hand signing lessons mercifully flooding back to her.

If anything, the Indian girl's expression actually darkened. Her bow had been pointed at the ground, but now she lifted her aim to line up with the deputy's feet.

Rose didn't need to hear an answer in English to know that her offer of friendship had been refused. Still, she couldn't just turn and leave. Nic needed rest and medical attention as soon as possible, and maybe this girl knew something that could help them.

'Listen,' she began, holding her hands away from her gun so she wouldn't appear to be a threat. 'My friend is hurt. We heard there's a refuge somewhere in this forest. A safe place. Can you show us the way?'

She threw in a few signs for hurt, help, you and guide, praying to God that she'd remembered the actions correctly and didn't just accidently say something nasty about the girl's mother.

The Indian narrowed her eyes and raised her bow in line with Rose's chest; making a sharp gesture with her chin that unmistakably meant - Leave... NOW.

Rose had never liked being told what to do, so she planted her feet and stayed.

'We've come a long way,' she met the girl's eyes unflinchingly. 'Please, take us to the refuge. Or tell us how to get there. I can pay however you want; food, money, supplies...'

That seemed to antagonise the archer even further and she drew back on the string; aiming between Rose's eyes.

'Go away. There is no room for you here,' she commanded, and Rose blinked in surprise, realising that the girl had spoken in English.

Somehow, that fact annoyed the deputy rather than comforted her. If the girl understood that they were only here because Nic was wounded, and that they would happily reimburse her for her time, then why was she still refusing to cooperate?

'We're not leaving,' Rose declared, standing taller and thrusting her jaw out to show she wasn't afraid of the arrow that was pointed at her head. 'Now, if you won't assist us, I'd appreciate it if you got out of our way. My friend needs help, and we are going to find that refuge with or without your permission.'

'You think you deserve to take refuge with my people?' the girl started to range forward, one step at a time, keeping her aim trained on Rose but letting her eyes wander to the black man half-slumped in the saddle a few paces behind.

'Why should we take him?' she challenged. 'He is too weak to be of any use to us. He will only lie around and use up our valuable resources, and then he will probably die.'

Rose held back the urge to leap out and strangle her with her bare hands.

'Our refuge is not for the weak,' the girl continued, tossing her long, dark hair for emphasis. 'We only welcome those who are strong enough contribute back to the group. He cannot contribute, so he is a burden. I think you would be a burden too,' she glanced the white woman up and down with an arrogant curl to her lips. 'Look at all your fancy clothes and gear. You wouldn't survive a day out here without your city things... And I guarantee you're too big and slow to get past m-...'

She had been planning a longer speech, but the words were stolen from her mouth as Deputy Belikov dropped like a stone then sprung forwards; tackling her enemy around the waist and using her full body-weight to pin the smaller woman to the ground.

'Bigger than you, maybe, but I'm not slow,' she hissed, ducking to one side as the arrow that had been nocked to the string flew wild.

The Indian girl cursed in her own language and, in a fit of fury, managed to wallop Rose over the shoulders with the wooden arc of her bow.

Rose grunted at the force of the strike, but ignored the sharp blossom of pain across her shoulder-blades; landing a flurry of blows to the girl's exposed ribcage that caused her to drop her bow and curl up to protect herself.

'I don't want to fight you...,' the deputy blocked a renewed attack from the enraged woman beneath her; sitting heavily over the native's thighs and slapping her hand away when she tried to reach for her knife. '...But I will fight if you continue to stand in my way.'

The Indian girl spat in Rose's face, and the slight distraction gave her the advantage she was looking for. Twisting onto her side, she scrabbled for the quiver of arrows that had been knocked askew on her shoulder - planning to use one as a dagger - but Rose stretched out to the opposite side and grabbed the discarded bow. Laying it horizontally across her adversary's chest, the deputy pressed the curve of the bow firmly against the other woman's throat; applying just enough pressure to prove she meant business.

'So, how do you want this to end?' Rose demanded, her voice shaky from the fight but her eyes steady and determined. 'Do you want to die here, or do you want to show me the way to the refuge so I can get help for my friend?'

The look on the young girl's face screamed that she would never, ever submit, but a soft sound to Rose's left made her look up and she quickly released the pressure she'd been exerting on her enemy's windpipe.

'I think she's proved she's strong enough to join the tribe, don't you Jacado'ahhaemay?'

An Indian brave emerged from the forest, with three others melting out from the trees behind him.

The young man's appearance was so striking it almost took Rose's breath away. His face was a perfect marriage of flawless, copper skin, sharp cheekbones, a firm chin, and soft, brown eyes that studied the two strangers with interest, not malice. The Indian's dark, glossy hair was twice the length of Dimitri's - parted in the middle and falling in two long plaits either side of his face - and as he approached the women on the ground, his presence carried a sense of strength and calm that brought the short-lived battle to an immediate end.

'She might be strong enough, but the man on the horse isn't,' the girl wriggled out from under Rose and stood facing the newcomer with her hands on her hips. 'We shouldn't let him in.'

The brave shook his head.

'That is not our decision to make, and you know it.'

Rose was on her feet by now, moving back towards the horse so she could protect Nic at the first sign of trouble, but the Indian brave stood in her way; looking into her eyes and speaking slowly but clearly in English.

'My people call me Cahdus'caht'iti, but you can call me Joshua. You've already met my sister Angeline,' he gestured to the girl who was now sulking under a hickory tree. 'It was a brave choice, risking your life to help your friend. Get up on your horse and I will lead you to the refuge. Our chief will want to meet you and hear your story.'

Relieved beyond measure, Rose did as she was instructed; keeping half an eye on her surroundings as they travelled deeper into the forest (in case she needed to find her way out again), and half an eye on the storm-cloud also known as Angeline.

They'd covered about five miles of hilly terrain when the forest suddenly opened out into a large clearing - with a lake nestled into its far curve and a wide area of furrowed earth that looked like it was used for growing crops.

Rose and Nic looked around in unmasked astonishment as they passed strange, cone-shaped huts that were walled with tight bundles of cane and long grass. There were a few smaller tipis as well - bordered with intricate animal designs - and all through the village, people sat around campfires in their family groupings; wrapped in tanned buffalo robes for warmth as they talked quietly and shared breakfast together.

While nothing about this situation seemed normal to Rose, things got stranger still as Joshua led his guests to the doorway of the largest hut and beckoned them inside.

Near the entrance, a small group of adults relaxed in chairs around a cooking fire, while a few children sat on the ground at their feet. That in itself was normal enough, but what Rose found surprising was that they weren't all Indians. She assumed that the man in the place of honour was the chief, and the native woman beside him his wife, but on his other side was a black woman and her two young children, and opposite them sat an older man who looked to be of mixed white and Indian descent.

'What is this place?' Deputy Belikov murmured under her breath, trying to understand how such a utopia could exist while the rest of the country was crippled by prejudice and strangled by war.

'Father,' Joshua addressed the chief, dipping his eyes in respect. 'We found these travellers seeking refuge near the edge of the forest. The man is wounded and needs the attention of our medicine man. The woman is his protector. She defeated Angeline in order to bring him here. Can they stay?'

The chief ran a critical eye over both the newcomers and inclined his head graciously.

'Bahtenah'win... See to the needs of this one,' he commanded in a soft, regal voice, and the old, pale-skinned Indian rose from his chair; putting one arm around Nic's back to support his weight and leading him away.

'As for this place...,' the chief turned his attention to Rose and gestured for her to take the vacant chair across the fire. 'I am Chief Iwi'nit'uh. My people originally came from Red River country but we were pushed north out of our lands to make way for new settlers. For the same reason, my wife's people were forced further south. We grew tired of being moved around at the whim of others so we formed a new tribe and claimed this land as our own. It is a safe place where we can live beyond the interference of the outside world and keep the sacred traditions of our forefathers - and any man, woman or child of any creed or colour who shares our beliefs may live alongside us in peace.'

Rose felt utterly overwhelmed. The last contact she'd had with Indians was when Pavel was killed. The idea of so many different tribes and cultures living together side-by-side was something she would have never imagined possible.

'Our tribe are the Coo'tsa,' Chief Iwi'nit'uh continued, watching his guest steadily from across the fire, 'and, if you choose it, you shall become Coo'tsa too.'

.

Author's Note:

Howdy readers! Thanks for joining me again for the 2nd half of the story - and welcome to new readers who've just caught up. Super shout out to Martianeskimo - you rock!

I took a few weeks off writing DBCW over Christmas to work on some other writing projects (8 Christmassy one-shots posted on my profile page) but now my brain is back in cowboy land again, so you can expect a chapter every few weeks from now!

Flood - there really was a flood in the winter of 1861-62. It was a freak event that wiped out a heap of towns & cities on the west coast. Technically, Rose is further east by now, but I wanted to use the flooding as an excuse to put her on a collision course with the Unpromised & the Keepers.

The Unpromised - What did you think of Rose's hunting buddies (Denis, Nick, Artur, Lev, Tamara) from BP? Denis' line about 'vigilantes... wanting to check if we have red blood the same as the rest of you' is a reference to the movie 'To Sir, With Love'. I hope the slave/confederate characters in this scene came across as more complex than just good guy/bad guy. Everybody has the potential to be a good or bad person - regardless of their ethnic, cultural, religious or political background.

The Keepers - Aargh - I've been sitting on this reveal for SO LONG & I'm super excited for this story arc to unfold. Did you guess this was coming? I've based The Keepers on the general histories/characteristics/language of the Caddo & Kiowa peoples. SO much awesome still to come :D

Please don't forget to leave me a review/PM & let me know what bits tickled your fancy/any predictions for the upcoming chapters.

Also, I've just made a Facebook page (Llaria6) to keep you updated on my progress between chapters & hopefully generate some conversations about VA/this story/general thoughts about writing fanfiction, etc. - so if you're into FB, pop over to my page & click 'Like'. I'm basically a FB virgin, so open to any suggestions you might have about how to build a page that is relevant & interesting to you.

Do you feel like some Dimitri in chapter 11?!