Mikayla approached the barn, noting the horses where still hitched, Lucas's rifle still beside the seat. She heard voices coming from in the barn, voices that did not sound happy. Pulling the rifle off the wagon, she did her best to hide it under her apron. The butt of the gun stuck out oddly at her waist, but she held the picnic basket in front of her to conceal it. Mikayla has picked up a sixth sense living in Charlottesville alone as a young woman, and she was getting a strong sense of danger.

Pushing open the barn door, she saw three men surrounding Lucas, one of them with a drawn gun. It was the man who had grabbed her at the general store soon after she'd arrived in North Fork. Simpson? Simmons? Something to that affect.

Plastering on a fake grin she declared, "Oh! Lucas dear, you didn't tell me we had company, I only brought enough lunch for one!"

The men turned, confusion on their faces, but upon seeing the young, beautiful woman, Simmons face turned sinister. "Why, hello ma'am. I must say McCain, that woman of yours just gets more tempting, doesn't she?" He sneered.

Lucas's face turned to stone. "What do you want, Simmons?"

The man rolled his eyes, "Lucas McCain, the man who has it all. I'm sick of you thinkin you run this town. You ain't nothin." He spat at the ground by Lucas's feet, pointing his gun towards him. Mikayla was slowly inching closer to Lucas, as all the men's eyes were watching Simmons.

"Somebody needs to knock you down a peg, and I think it's gonna be me," Simmons laughed, cocking the gun.

"What are you going to do, Simmons? Kill me? In front of all these witnesses?" Lucas saw Mikayla's movement. Why was she here? She could get hurt. He had to keep Simmons talking and get Mikayla to run. But as his eyes met hers, she tilted the picnic basket, showing him a glimpse of the revolver inside and his rifle tucked at her waist. What was she doing?

"It's perfect, Lucas. A lovers quarrel. They'll say the wife you barely knew killed you in a jealous rage, then turned the gun on herself. Or maybe the other way... I haven't quite decided which of you is going to be the villain in my retelling," he laughed, raising the gun to Lucas's forehead.

"Say goodbye, McCain."

Mikayla shouted, surprising the men, she tossed the revolver to Lucas and pulled his rifle from the folds of her skirt, tucking it into her shoulder and pointing it at the men. Lucas fired, hitting Simmons in the hand, he screamed in pain, dropping his gun. The other men reached for their holsters, but Mikayla said sternly, "I wouldn't do that." They held up their hands in surrender.

"Mikayla, tie their hands with rope, we'll take them in to Micah." Lucas instructed. She handed him the rifle and did as he said, then they put the men in the back of the wagon and returned to town. Simmons insisted he only meant to scare Lucas, but his pleas to be released were met with silence from McCain. After talking to Micah and seeing to the men being put behind bars, Lucas and Mikayla quietly rode home. Pulling into the yard, Lucas gently helped her down and finally asked, "are you alright?"

She nodded, frozen in place. He began to unhitch the team and told her, "maybe you should go in and lie down?"

"I'd prefer to stay here until we're both safely inside the house," she said pointedly. He nodded, leading the horses into their stalls and hanging up their tack, he solemnly followed her to the house. She went to the kitchen, pumping some water. Lucas saw her hand shaking as she poured the water into a cup at the table, and he moved behind her, steadying her hand with his.

"It's alright." He murmured into her ear, his chest pressed gently against her back as he set the water down on the table in front of her. She closed her eyes, leaning back into him, she began to sob.

"Whoa, Mikayla? It's okay, your safe." He soothed, running his hands down her arms, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair. Being this close to her was driving him crazy. He turned her around, slowly, looking down into her wet eyes.

"They could've killed you, Lucas!" She exclaimed, her tears spilling. "And just when we... when we've been getting on so well." She sniffed, looking down towards the floor. He was still incredibly close, and she instinctively laid her hands on his chest, fiddling with a button on his shirt, not daring to meet his gaze.

"We're okay, Mikayla. I would've never let them hurt you." He said hoarsely. "I won't let anyone hurt you," Lucas declared, running his hand down her side, he wrapped one arm around her waist, tilting her chin up with his other hand. Gazing into her eyes he could see fear, which he assumed was from the days events, but in her heart there was more, a fear of losing him. She didn't know when exactly it had happened, but suddenly she had realized Lucas was someone she did not want to be without.

He stared down at her intensely, a warmth spread down through her body to her toes. His breathing had quickened, and she could see his face soften, his eyes flitting to her lips. His look of concern changed to one of desire, and he bent his face down towards hers, catching her lips with his own. He slipped his other arm around her waist, her hands ran up his chest, gripping his collar she pulled him closer. He felt like his whole body was electrified, and he pressed her against the table at her back, his kisses becoming more passionate. She let out a satisfied sigh, prompting Lucas to scoop her up, sitting her on the table. Her legs wrapped around his waist as their kisses became urgent, their greedy hands caressing each other's bodies.

Hoofbeats broke his concentration and Lucas stepped back, confused. Hearing light footsteps on the porch, he turned away, trying to regain his composer. Mark came busting through the door, excitement on his face.

"Pa? Are y'all alright? Micah told me some men jumped you and I should head right home! But you got 'em, right Pa? Micah said they're in the jail now?" Mark's excitement turned to confusion and he asked, "Why are you sitting on the table, Mikayla?"

She was frozen, breathing heavily, her hand to her swollen lips, still remembering his touch. Swallowing hard she said shakily, "Um, I just needed to rest a bit. We had an... eventful day." She slid off the table, brushing her skirts she smiled sweetly at Mark, "how was school?"

His face fell, "not nearly exciting as what happened here," he responded, going over to his bed to unpack his books.

Mikayla glanced over at Lucas, still standing with his back to them. Oh yes, it had certainly been an exciting afternoon. His heart rate was slowly returning to normal, and Lucas turned motioning to Mark, "we have some barn work to do before dark, better get to it." Mark walked out the door and Lucas followed, as he put his hat on his head he turned, seeing Mikayla staring after them he nodded at her. She smiled shyly at him, glancing at the floor.

Clearing his throat he said, "We won't be too late."

Her eyes met his and she spoke sweetly and boldly, "I look forward to continuing our... exchange, Lucas."

His eyes widened, and she smiled at him again, almost seductively. Or was he reading into things? Following Mark out to the barn, Lucas's thoughts were going a mile a minute, mostly focused on a certain chestnut haired beauty.

"Pa? You've been trying to get milk out of that one teet for ten minutes," Mark said, looking at Lucas oddly.

Lucas blushed, shaking his head, "sorry son, I've got a lot on my mind."

Mark smiled sheepishly, "like Miss Mikayla?"

Lucas raised his eyebrows at the boy, "what makes you think that?"

Mark shrugged, going back to brushing his horse. After a while he declared, "Pa, I'm real glad Mikayla is here."

"Me too, son."

Looking at Lucas, Mark said honestly, "I like that she makes you so happy, Pa."

Lucas smiled, and they heard Mikayla calling that supper was ready. Heading into the house, the little family sat around the table, Mark was telling Mikayla about his first time milking the cow where more milk ended up on him then in the bucket, and Lucas watched her listening intently, laughing at all the right parts. She felt Lucas's eyes watching her, and glanced across the table with a small smile.

"Well, I'm real tired," Mark said, faking a yawn. "I'm gonna go to sleep."

"Now?" Lucas looked at him oddly. What was the boy up to?

"Yeah, Pa. I think I'll turn in after supper is cleaned up." He helped Mikayla clear the table, then got ready for bed. "Well, Goodnight," Mark called, settling into his bed.

Mikayla shrugged at Lucas, walking into their bedroom. Lucas scratched his head, glancing at Mark as he entered the bedroom, catching a smirk on the boy's face. Lucas gave him a stern look, and Mark sank under the covers.

Lucas closed the door, turning to see Mikayla undoing her hair, her curls falling down her back. His stomach flipped as she turned and grinned at him, sending feelings through his body he hadn't experienced in a long time. Suddenly nervous, he awkwardly began undoing the buttons on his shirt.