I'm in a good mood so I figured I would double post :3

Just because I forgot to mention this before, I have all the chapters for the story written, so I'll be posting every day unless I get busy with work. I'm sorry if the characters are OOC, but I had to shift them a little to better fit 1875. I hope it doesn't ruin your enjoyment of the story :)

That being said, I hope you enjoy it! Thank you, everyone, for the reviews, I greatly appreciate them :)

"Rosemarie."

I paused in my wandering of the garden and looked over at my mother. She sat beneath the oak tree, staring up at the leaves. Janine was an unusual woman, dressed in men's trousers and jacket. Her fiery red hair was pinned back, but a curl would always break loose and hang in front of her face.

Janine was an unmoving force; she had to be to stand next to my father and not bend to his will. They loved each other despite how often they disagreed.

I turned and walked to her, brushing my hand over the flower bushes as I went. "Yes, dear mother?" I snarked, grinning at the glare she directed at me.

"Leave that attitude for your father," she scolded and then smiled. "Or better yet, save it for your husband."

I blanched. "If that's what you wish to discuss, then I'm sure I would have a more productive time aggravating Christian."

She laughed, the sound so light and full of warmth. "You will have to choose a suitor one day, you know."

"That day isn't today," I remarked and sat on the ground beside her. We were in our own garden, and I had foregone my corset, preferring to wrap my chest instead so I was more easily able to move. If I tied my hair up and wore a loose blouse, I could pass as one of the boys still.

"It might be some time before you consider your options, but it's good to already be aware of what to look for in a future husband."

I bent my knee and rested my elbow on it, cupping my cheek in my hand. "And what's that?"

"You need to find someone that won't make you change who you are."

"Rose?"

A voice called my name, but it wasn't my mother's; despite all my attempts, she refused to call me anything except my full name. Waking up felt impossible, the mattress too comfortable and the quilts too warm.

The sound of heavy steps moved closer. "If she doesn't wake soon, I'll make her."

My eyes snapped open, fear pulsing through my body at the male's voice. Nothing good ever followed one of them being near when I slept. I sat up quickly, holding the quilts close to me as I searched for the knife I had hidden under my pillow, but found none.

"Rose," the voice called my name again, and I realised it was Dimitri. He was crouched by the mattress, eyes watching me carefully.

Spiridon was also in the room, a permanent scowl on his face and an ire directed at me. He was not fond of me.

"It's best you leave so I might help her dress," Rebecca broke the silence of the room, brushing her hands on the apron tied around her waist.

I held the quilts closer to my body, blocking any view they might have. The fire had died down to embers, but there was enough light from the rising sun to see in the house. I watched as Dimitri's expression shifted, though it was unreadable what he was thinking; he stood back to his full height and nodded.

"We'll wait outside. Thank you for your hospitality." He dipped his head towards Rebecca and then marched to the door. "Outside," he aimed at Spiridon.

Chills ran down my spine again; the man filled me with uneasiness. He scoffed and snatched a roll of bread off the table. "Don't take too long. We don't have time to waste waiting for her to get dolled up."

As soon as they had left, Rebecca huffed, "Some men." She walked up to me and held out a hand. "I have some clothes for you and some things to take with you," she offered, smiling down at me. "From what I hear, you have a long journey."

I brushed my hands down the simple brown skirt and riding jacket; it was light enough to be comfortable to ride in but still kept me covered. The style was dated compared to what I was used to wearing back home, and it reminded me of what my mother wore.

I hadn't dreamt of her in months.

"And the last touch," Rebecca smiled, placing a hat on my head. It was a light brown, in contrast with the colour of my hair. "Very lovely indeed," she complimented.

I looked at myself in the mirror again. With how I looked, I could almost pretend the last two months never happened. "Thank you, Rebecca. You didn't have to go through so much trouble for me."

"It was no trouble," she assured me, "that young Russian gentleman did most of the walking. I just told him where to go."

I paused. Dimitri had gathered the clothes for me?

Rebecca pulled me from my thoughts and handed me a brown satchel. "There are some undergarments in there and the ointment I used last night. Try to clean the wounds if you can."

I swallowed, grateful she hadn't asked questions about how I gained the whipping; I didn't know how much Dimitri had told her about why I was in such a state. She went back into the kitchen and handed me a canister of water and some food wrapped in a clean cloth.

"The bread will be easy for you to eat, but only in small portions until you can stomach more," she instructed in a stern tone. "And keep an eye on those boys out there. While I can trust the tall one, I don't know about the others."

I bit back my smile. While I agreed that Spiridon wasn't trustworthy, the others had all been kind. Still, I nodded, "I will. Thank you."

Rebecca pulled me into a tight hug and then saw me off. Dimitri was waiting outside, his horse saddled and ready. Again, when he looked at me, his eyes widened, and then his expression became blank.

"Are you ready?" he asked, holding a hand out to me. "We have a long ride ahead of us."

Excitement stirred in my chest—I was finally heading home. I took his hand, mine dwarfed in his. "I'm ready."

I never expected a wide-brim hat to make such a difference during the day. Women wore brightly decorated bonnets and hats that gave little reprieve from the sun. But just the slight shade my hat provided stopped my face from feeling as if it were pressed to a flame.

We maintained a constant pace for the day's ride; as much as I enjoyed riding horses, I found myself bored quickly. The scenery hardly changed, and it all looked the same. Ivan and Eddie both provided some entertainment in the form of light conversation, but they were quiet now. Dimitri didn't speak.

I sat in front of him again. I hated sitting side-saddled; my riding skirt provided better coverage than my old ripped skirts, but not enough to sit properly. I need breeches like my mother wore. And maybe my own horse.

I noticed that Dimitri held his arms out further from me than he had the day before. It was barely a difference, but his elbows no longer brushed against me, and he sat further back so his chest wouldn't touch my back. I had been using him to maintain my balance and had to hold on to the horse's mane instead.

One of the rolls Rebecca gave me sat in my lap, half picked at since we left her home. I was eating slowly so as not to upset my stomach.

"Let's stop here," Dimitri announced suddenly, surprising me.

I hadn't realised I was falling asleep; I jolted forward and almost lost my balance. Dimitri's hand had quickly steadied me, though my bread hadn't been so lucky.

"Damn," I cursed. I turned to thank Dimitri but found his eyes already focused on me. There was a strange expression on his face, but I couldn't decipher it. Again, he quickly schooled his features and returned to the stoic stare.

He dismounted and helped me down, pointing to a small shaded patch created by a rock formation. "Rest over there."

It felt like an order and made me bristle. I wasn't one of his men to just order around, but the notion of sitting was appealing. With a huff, I did as he said and sat in the shade.

The sun was high in the sky, and the heat reached its peak. I hadn't realised just how warm it was under the rays until I had escaped them. I removed the satchel slung over my shoulder and began to unbutton the riding coat; it would be useful at night, but during the day, it was sweltering.

The blue blouse Rebecca had dressed me in was lightweight; the limited breeze able to move through it.

"You realise that if we keep going this pace, it will take twice as long to get back," Spiridon complained. Nothing ever pleased him.

Dimitri shook his head and remained focused on his horse. Ivan laughed and walked towards me with his horse's reins loosely gripped in his hand. "Speak for yourself, Spiridon. I much prefer this pace." He lowered himself to the ground and glanced back at me, "We were riding day and night to find you, so this is like a holiday."

Curiosity got the better of me. "How did you find me?"

"As far as I know, Zmey did a lot of the leg work to find out that you were no longer in the city. Once he had a general direction, Dimitri was called in to do the rest."

"So, my father knows it was one of his guards who kidnapped me?" I asked, watching Dimitri out of the corner of my eye to see if he would add anything to the explanation.

Ivan nodded, "Yes. They were paid off by one of his enemies."

I had guessed as much—Abe had so many. It was ironic that the guards Abe forced me to have were the ones who tried to harm me.

"How long until the next town?" I asked. Even if Ivan had claimed he liked the pace, I preferred to get out of the desert as quickly as possible.

Dimitri didn't turn as he answered, "Over a day's ride. Unfortunately, we will have to find somewhere to camp tonight." His tone was strained, as if he was annoyed.

I shrugged, not bothered by sleeping outside after how often I had previously. "Anything is better than that shed," I replied without thinking. I doubted I said it loud enough for them to hear, but Ivan had.

He leaned closer with a question in his eyes. "Why were you in there?"

"Ivan," Dimitri interrupted with a warning in his eyes, "we need to keep moving."

He sighed and winked at me, "Whatever you say, oh, fearless leader." Ivan stood up and offered me his hand; I enjoyed Ivan's company, especially his playful nature. It made the situation less tense than it would have been without him.

It was becoming a practised art, Dimitri lifting me onto the saddle and him climbing up behind me. I usually wouldn't allow someone to help me; I was more than capable myself, but his horse was just so tall.

Again, we rode in silence, leaving me alone with my thoughts. It was strange how close we were for hours, yet I still knew nothing about Dimitri. Or the men he rode with.

I wished I could say he didn't intrigue me. But there was so much about him that made me curious. The fact that he was pleasing to look at definitely helped; I was sure that even dressed as he was, he would gain the attention of all the women at a party.

The thought of him in a suit and dancing with me flashed in my mind—he would be a gentleman; I was sure of it. With his piercing gaze, he would make me feel like I was the only one in the room.

Dimitri clicked his tongue, pulling the reins as he urged his horse to advance, and I forced the image from my mind. He was nothing but a man hired to return me to San Francisco—nothing else.

We didn't choose a place to camp until the sun was low in the sky and settled for a small area that was flat enough. They had obviously slept in the desert many times before, each completing tasks without a word said. I stood awkwardly in the middle of it unsure of what to do.

Dimitri and Spiridon took care of the horses, removing their gear and saddles, and then securing the reins so they wouldn't run off during the night. Ivan seemed to be preparing what the meal of the night would be while waiting for Eddie to start the fire. He was efficient in gathering enough kindling to feed the fire but had failed to light it.

"Dammit," Eddie cursed, struggling to use the flint. He winced as soon as he swore, giving me an apologetic look. "Sorry, Miss."

I couldn't help but laugh. "I've heard much worse." And I had said worse. I gathered my skirt to the side and knelt beside him, holding my hand out for the flint and steel. "Let me try."

"Oh, here we go," Spiridon complained behind us, but I ignored him.

Eddie glanced over his shoulder before passing them to me. The sun had almost set, and the remaining light was limited. I fiddled with some of the dry grass in the pile and then struck the flint above it. It only took a few sparks for a flame to catch; I bent closer to nurse the flame, letting it grow enough to catch the kindling.

"That's impressive," Ivan beamed, "looks like we don't need Eddie anymore." He knocked Eddie's hat down over his eyes.

"Hardly," I scoffed. "I just have a friend back home who has a talent for starting fires, and I learnt some tricks from him."

"Well, now that the fire is going, move aside and let me work." Ivan crouched beside the fire and began to work; I stood up and stepped away. Despite what society expected of my sex, I never had the talent for cooking, nor had I wanted to learn.

With nothing to do again, I stood on the edge of the clearing and busied myself with brushing the dirt off my skirt. Spiridon had taken a spot by the fire, reclined on his saddle and spoke with Ivan and Eddie as they joked together. It was such a different atmosphere from what I had experienced. Part of me wondered if I would enjoy sleeping under the stars for once.

My previous experiences had been while bound and under the watchful eyes of my kidnappers. They kept me chained to the wagon, and each time I shifted, the metal links would clink; they would know the moment I moved.

"Do you need anything?"

My head whipped to the side, surprised to see Dimitri so close; he barely made a sound when he moved. His eyes briefly met mine before they moved to the darkness around us, his hand resting on the gun on his hip.

"I hope you can bear tonight's accommodation. It should only be for tonight," he assured me. I shook my head.

"It's fine, honestly. I wasn't living the life of luxury before, so this alone is an improvement." I was warm, fed, and not having to watch my back every second of the day. I was still hesitant to completely drop my guard, but Dimitri seemed to be protective of me. "How much is my father paying you?"

Dimitri's eyes snapped to mine in surprise. "I–"

"Belikov, you're on first watch!" Spiridon yelled, interrupting whatever Dimitri was about to say.

His lips pressed into a thin line, and Dimitri stepped back. "Please remain close to the camp, Miss Hathaway." He turned from me and walked further into the shadows, disappearing into the shadows.

"Don't worry, Princess, the coyotes won't get him," Spiridon laughed, "but you should watch out. They would enjoy you as a snack."

My hands curled into fists as I stared him down. Spiridon was exactly like the men my father would hire to be mindless guns—exactly like the men who worked on the ranch. While they eyed me with a look of lust, Spiridon just held distaste. I had no idea what I had done to offend him in such a way, but it unsettled me.

"Ignore him," Ivan motioned for me to come closer. He patted a prepared bedroll beside him.

I tilted my head at him in question.

"Dimitri laid it out for you."

When did he do that?

The others had a blanket or just their saddles arranged as something to sleep on, but the bedroll Dimitri had brought for me looked comfortable and warm. I sat down on it, folding my legs to the side and draping my skirt so my feet were covered.

We sat for a while, making small conversation to pass the time until the food was ready. I slowly picked at mine. Dimitri had returned to the fire and gave instructions to the men for the night; I watched him out of the corner of my eye, unable to look away from him for long.

His stature was tall; the top of my head barely reached his broad shoulders. With the sober expression he always wore, I could understand if people perceived him as a threatening man—I had at first. But I realised Dimitri was more like a gentle giant.

Granted, one that wielded a gun and wasn't afraid to take a life.

He didn't speak more to me, choosing to eat silently, and then he made himself comfortable and went to sleep.

It was a reminder that I was a job to him. He might draw my curiosity, but Dimitri was only there because my father hired him to find me and bring me back. All the choices he made—that made me feel protected—were for the sake of the purse he would gain once we returned.

I didn't understand why, but that realisation made my chest ache.

I climbed under the blanket on my bed, pulling it up to cover my face as I tried to find a comfortable way to sleep.

Why did the thought that I meant nothing to Dimitri hurt so much?

"Hold still, girl."

I jolted awake; a scream caught in my throat. When I opened my eyes, there was no man above me.

It was just a dream.

Slowly, I sat up, and the memory of where I was returned. The fire continued to burn, and the three men awake when I laid down were now asleep. Without their constant chatter, the sounds of the night were prominent.

It had been a two-day ride from the ranch, and the environment barely changed; more shrubs covered the hard earth, and that was it. Sounds of animals more active at night carried across the land; each one tightened the ball of panic in my chest.

A boot scuffed beside me, and I jumped.

"Sorry," Dimitri whispered.

I stared at him with my hand on my chest in surprise. He was no longer asleep; instead, he sat with one knee bent and the other leg stretched out. His gun was in hand.

"What are you doing?" I asked, eyes flicking to the revolver.

He followed my sight, then returned the weapon to his holster. "My apologies; it's a habit." He pulled at his duster until it covered the gun. "I'm on watch. The desert can be dangerous at night."

I frowned. "I'm aware."

"Could you not sleep?" he asked after a moment of silence. There was something different about him when it was just the two of us. Dimitri appeared more at ease.

I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair; it had come loose as I slept, the braid no longer holding my curls together. "Just a bad dream," I replied and hoped he would drop the subject. I didn't feel like discussing the memories I had relived.

My tone must have been telling as he didn't speak again. I tried to distract myself from the silence by focusing on my hair; I brushed my fingers through it, allowing it to hang loosely over my shoulder. I wished it had been the same fiery colour as my mother's; instead, I had gained the almost inky black of my father.

Eventually, I couldn't handle the silence. "How did you end up working for Zmey?" I asked; all sense of proprietary dropped. I was being invasive, but my curiosity knew no bounds.

"Why do you want to know?" Dimitri asked. Those piercing eyes locked with mine.

"A gentleman's reason can be very telling."

"A gentleman," he repeated with a smile that felt the opposite. "My reason is that I owe him for a favour many years ago."

I leaned closer, finding myself more eager for answers. "It must have been quite the favour."

"He saved the lives of my mother and sisters." His eyes dropped, and I found myself missing the attention.

"Oh." I had heard tales of my father's deals—that he was like making a deal with a devil that wore a suit and tie. "And he still has you at his beck and call?"

"Some favours can never be fully repaid."

The fire burned brightly in front of us, and the crackling of the wood was the only sound that followed. Dimitri appeared lost in a memory, and I was wary of pushing for more.

What could my father have done that Dimitri believed earned such a steep price?

"Was your dream about the ranch?"

My breath caught; my body froze. "What?"

"You spoke in your sleep," Dimitri explained in a soft voice—gentle. "You sounded scared."

I looked down at the blanket pooled at my waist, fingers curling around the fleece. "At night, some of the men believed they could take liberties with me."

I heard him inhale sharply. "Miss Hathaway, I'm sorry–"

I lifted my eyes back to his. "They never succeed. The last man that tried, I stabbed him through the heart."

I remember grasping the knife under my pillow and plunging the blade in deep; I didn't hesitate, and I never felt remorse as I watched him die at my hands.

I was more like my father than I was willing to admit.

"That's why I was in the shed," I told him, focusing on the fire again. I was grateful that Dimitri had discovered me when he had; I doubted I had long left to live on that ranch. "I think I shall try to sleep more. Good night, Mr Belikov." I laid back down, staring up at the stars for a minute before closing my eyes again.

There was no response until I felt myself on the edge of sleep. A faint whisper of, "Good night, Rose."