Lydia had no idea what time it was, but her growling stomach was what woke her up. At first, she could hardly open her eyes due to the brightness of the sun's glare as it shone through the window. After blinking a few times and squinting, she was finally able to open her eyes wide enough to look around the room.

Last night it had been too dark to see much of anything, and what she could see, she didn't want to take her gaze away from Nicholas' handsome face. But as comfort had filled her, she couldn't help but fall asleep in his arms. There was no place better than that.

But now, she wasn't in his arms, and she wasn't on the couch. She was lying on a soft bed with a quilt covering her. A small fire burned in the hearth, keeping the room toasty warm. She had no clue whose room this was, but she prayed they would allow her to stay here until body aching body recovered.

The scent of biscuits wafted through the air, and her stomach grumbled again. She smiled and thought about what she and Nicholas had discussed last night. She prayed she hadn't been dreaming. Of course, she'd find out soon once she climbed out of bed and searched for the kitchen to feed her hungry stomach.

Lydia threw off the quilt and carefully scooted to the edge of the bed. Her head still hurt, and moving only made it worse. She lifted her hand to the back of her head. Immediately, her fingers touched a bandage. Her thoughts stopped. When had this happened?

Gently, she explored her hair, and remarkably enough, it wasn't crusted over with dried blood. Had she somehow lost her memory of washing her hair and having her head bandaged?

The beat of her heart quickened as worry filled her. This was probably what poor Nicholas had felt while being drugged. However, keeping the Pinkerton agent asleep helped him recover faster. Perhaps she should sleep more, too. Then again, she needed food before that could happen.

Suddenly, the door opened, and Nicholas walked in, carrying a tray of food. When his gaze met hers, he smiled.

"Good morning, my darling Lydia."

Her heart melted from his endearment, and especially from realizing last night hadn't been a dream. They had expressed their feelings, and he wanted her in his life. "Good morning, Nicholas."

He motioned his head toward the bed. "Crawl back into bed so that you can eat your breakfast."

The thudding of her heartbeat increased. "Nicholas, you don't need to—"

"No," he interrupted. "I don't need to, but I want to." He winked.

Her heart continued to melt. This was a dream come true, and she feared it wouldn't last. Good things never lasted long in her life.

She did as he requested and scooted back onto the bed, sitting up against the pillows as she pulled the quilt over her legs. Nicholas rested the tray of food on her lap. Steam rose over the bowl of oatmeal, and next to it were three biscuits. Her stomach growled again.

"Oh, Nicholas." She peered deeply into his eyes. "You are wonderful."

He bent until his face was near to hers. Desire lit his eyes, making her pulse race even faster than before.

"No woman has ever told me that." His gaze dipped to her mouth. "I love it when you say it."

She couldn't decide which she wanted more – to eat or to kiss him. Her grumbling stomach made the choice, and he chuckled and stood.

"I hope you like oatmeal."

"Yes, I do." She took a bite. She'd eaten oatmeal most of her life, but for some reason, it tasted better knowing that it was made from Nicholas' caring hands. "Have you eaten?"

He nodded. "I ate as I was preparing your breakfast."

Lydia tapped her hand on the space beside her. "Stay here with me and keep me company while I eat."

His grin widened, and he sat beside her. "You have more color in your face."

She shrugged. "Considering how much blood I probably lost, I suppose I'm happy that my face holds color."

"You did lose a lot of blood." His smile disappeared as a frown of concern took over his expression. "I'm glad you slept while I washed your hair."

"I cannot believe I slept through it." She bit into one of her biscuits.

"You probably lost consciousness." He shrugged. "Head injuries will do that to you."

She swallowed. "Will you tell me about this outlaw you're after?"

He exhaled deeply, and his shoulders stiffened. Irritation shone on his face, as well as the hatred for this man.

"He robs trains for a living. However, he also enjoys torturing people. The Pinkerton agents have been after him for years. When I finally found him, I thought I would finally be able to lock him away, but he's a cunning man." He shook his head. "I'm still cursing myself for letting him slip out of my grasp. I could have shot him and injured him enough to handcuff him, but I didn't." His expression hardened. "I'll never make that mistake again."

"Has he killed anyone?"

"I've never known him to end someone's life, but that doesn't mean anything. Knowing Jakeson the way I do, I wouldn't put it past him to kill someone out of spite."

"I still wish I knew why he decided to kidnap me. I don't have any money."

Nicholas placed his hand on the section of the quilt that covered her leg. "I believe Jakeson took you to bring me out in the open. He probably wants to finish this between us. He won once, but he won't win this time. It's obvious that he had been watching me since a beautiful woman rescued me. How else would he have known I was in Stumptown?"

"How did you know I was missing?"

Anger built inside him as he remembered those feelings he'd experienced after getting Jakeson's note. "He left me a message that he'd taken you. Miss Hansen gave me the note from him. She described the outlaw perfectly, and of course, when you had told the sheriff about the man by the hotel, I knew Jakeson was back to cause trouble." His hand continued to stroke her leg. "If I had known he was going to take you, I would have kept you by my side whether you wanted me to or not."

She chuckled lightly. "I would have told you I didn't want to be by your side, but my heart would have been crying out for your love."

His gaze changed again as desire filled his expression. "You have it, Lydia."

Tears stung her eyes. Was he telling her he loved her? Yet, she wanted to hear him say the actual words, and she would repeat the same phrase – I love you. Then again, the way he watched her mouth, perhaps a kiss would be first.

Not caring about the food, she made the first move and leaned toward him. He met her halfway and pressed his mouth against hers. But the blasted food tray was in the way, making it difficult to get a really good kiss right now.

From the other room, bootsteps pounded on the floor. Nicholas jumped off the bed and swung toward the door, yanking his pistol out of his holster and pointing it in the direction of the person coming up the hallway.

Lydia's pulse raced at a different speed. Nicholas has assured her that nobody knew about this place, and yet, he was wrong. She feared it was Jakeson. Saying a silent prayer, she asked God to help Nicholas in his time of need.

* * * *

Nick realized now why he had never wanted to give his heart to anyone. He became easily distracted. How could he not have heard someone come into the cabin? But more importantly, who could be daring enough to enter the cabin?

He pointed his gun toward the door, ready to shoot anyone who threatened to harm Lydia. Although he didn't like killing outlaws, he didn't want them harming the people he loved.

The unknown person in the cabin came closer as his steps echoed in the hall. Nick narrowed his gaze and prepared himself for anything as he stood between the door and Lydia.

Finally, a man's body came in view. His wide shoulders, his sandy brown hair, and mustache became recognizable. The man stopped and held up his hands in surrender.

Sighing with relief, Nick lowered his gun and slid it back into the holster. "Easton, you nearly got yourself shot."

Bryan Easton released a gush of air from his mouth and lowered his hands. "I wasn't sure who was using this cabin. As I rode past it and noticed smoke coming from the chimney, I thought I'd drop by to see that it was being used properly."

Nick arched an eyebrow. "How do you know about it? I thought only Pinkerton agents were aware of this haven."

"Actually, this cabin had belonged to my grandfather a few years ago, and then he gave it to Allan Pinkerton to use for his agents." Bryan's gaze shifted toward the bed. "But this is an agent I haven't had the privilege of meeting yet."

Inwardly, Nick groaned. He was certain Bryan thought the worst. Then again, with a bandage around Lydia's forehead, maybe the man wouldn't judge her too harshly.

"Bryan Easton, this is Miss Lydia Swanson. She's Alan Cartwright's sister-in-law."

The oldest Easton brother's eyes widened in recognition. "You are Victoria's sister."

Lydia smiled and nodded. "I am."

Bryan quickly removed his hat and nodded. "It's nice to meet you finally. Alan's wife talks about her sisters all the time."

"As long as they are all good things." She chuckled.

"Of course, Miss Swanson." His gaze lifted to her bandage. "May I ask what happened?"

She looked toward Nick in a silent plea for help. He gave her a nod and stepped toward Bryan.

"The outlaw that put me in Doctor West's office and then at the hotel for several days is on the loose. He wacked Miss Swanson over the head and kidnapped her. I rescued her last night and brought her here. But I fear the man is still on the loose."

Bryan scowled. "Does Denton know?"

"Yes. I told the sheriff all about Jakeson, and Denton has men on the lookout for the outlaw."

Bryan placed his hat back on his head. "I was on my way to Bozeman, but my business there can wait. I'll ride back into town and see how I can help."

"We would greatly appreciate it."

Bryan moved toward the door slowly. "What does he look like? I passed a drunk man passed out along the side of the road about thirty minutes north of here."

"Drunk?" Nick's hopes lifted. He recalled that Jakeson enjoyed his visits in saloons, but not as much as what he could drink while in them.

"Yes. The man was sloshed. I tried to wake him up, but he wouldn't move. He moaned a few times and mumbled something about hurting his daughter, but the man refused to open his eyes." Bryan rolled his eyes. "And he smelled like the inside of a whiskey bottle."

"Jakeson is a burly man. He's middle-aged, perhaps younger than fifty. His hair was once black, but white is the color taking over. He also has a bushy beard."

"Don't forget about his pocked face," Lydia added.

Nick nodded. "Yes, the man has a crater face." He paused, trying to remember anything else. "Oh, and one more thing. He has a burn mark on his neck in the shape of a star that looked like he was scalded with something. Of course, you wouldn't know that unless you were close enough to see."

Bryan hitched a breath. "I was close enough to see, and yes, he had a burn scar about two inches wide on his neck that looked like a star."

Nick muttered a cuss, hoping that Lydia didn't hear. He didn't want to offend a gentle-bred lady in any way. "That's Jakeson."

"I'll ride back to the spot and see if he's still there."

Bryan took a step to the door, but Nick stopped him. "No. Go to Stumptown first. Get Denton and anyone else who will go with you. Jakeson is a dangerous man."

"That's what I'll do," Bryan said before rushing out of the room.

Nick groaned and sat back on the edge of the bed. Lydia's eyes were wide with fright, and the color from her face was gone again. He quickly grasped her cold hand, stroking warmth back into her skin. "Please, don't worry. I won't let the outlaw get you again."

Her throat jumped with what must have been a hard swallow. "I'm not worried about me as much as I'm worried about you."

It tore at his heart to hear her strained voice, but it made him smile that she cared so much about him. "Now that I know Bryan is heading back to town to get the sheriff and others, I'm certain we'll catch Jakeson today." He sighed. "The sooner, the better."