Emma stepped out into the early morning air and wrapped her shawl tighter around herself. The months were passing quickly and November was upon them—and it had brought winter chills with it.

She felt the babe stir within her and smiled. Life was peaceful. Despite her fears that her father would never stop his attacks on them, Liam seemed to have been right.

They were safe.

It had been months without a single word from him. She'd had no run-in in town, Liam's traps had remained undisturbed and there had been no further bullets sent their way.

Winter was approaching and, honestly, Emma was more than ready for it. Snow would soon fall and trap them in their cozy cabin where they'd stay wrapped up tight in one another until the birth of their child in the spring.

Everything was ready. Liam had handcrafted a cradle and Emma had made plenty of blankets and outfits to keep the babe warm and swaddled.

The smokehouse and pantry were nearly bursting with food and the woodshed was full.

Yes, everything was perfect—except that Liam was preparing to leave for two days.

He had all his furs from the spring and summer loaded up on the cart and he was going to be taking them to a larger town in an effort to get more money for them. Emma knew he was trying to make enough money that he wouldn't have to do much trapping at all next year—she knew he wanted to be able to spend that time with her and their child.

But that wasn't going to make it any easier to say goodbye to him this morning.

"Are you sure you don't want to come?" Liam asked, stepping behind her and wrapping his arms around her growing middle.

Emma sighed, leaning into his embrace. "I'm sure. I don't think I'm up for quite that much cart sitting."

Patrick stepped out of the barn with Honey who was going to be pulling the loaded cart. "Don't you worry none, son. Hell Cat and I will have a good time and you'll be back before you know it."

Emma flushed and rolled her eyes. Patrick had been calling her Hell Cat ever since she had lost her temper with him when Liam had ridden up on the mountain to confront her father.

Apparently Emma had scared the man.

Honestly, she wasn't that bad... she hadn't even lost her temper much since.

"I'll be home in two days," Liam promised, turning her around so he could see her face.

Emma forced a smile. "Everything will be just fine. We'll barely have time to miss you."

Liam stooped low and gave her a quick kiss before walking around her and off the porch. She watched as he and Patrick hooked Honey up to the cart. Emma's stomach was in knots.

She didn't want Liam to leave—but she knew he had to.

"I'll take care of things around here," Patrick promised.

Liam clapped his hand on his father's shoulder. "I know."

He gave one last long glance to Emma after climbing into the cart and then pulled away.

Emma watched him until he rounded the bend and then she sighed as she pulled her shawl tighter. "It's getting too cold to stand out here. Come on in, Patrick. I have some fresh coffee brewed."

Patrick rubbed his weathered hands together as he climbed the steps. "You sure do know the way to an old man's heart."

Emma was cleaning up the supper dishes the next night when she felt the baby beginning to stir restlessly inside her. She smiled, loving the sensation of kicks and rolls.

She glanced at Patrick who was sitting in the arm chair, smoking a pipe and staring into the fire. "Patrick?" she called. He turned his head to look at her. "Would you like to feel your grandchild move?"

Patrick's face paled. "I..uh..." He got to his feet and sat his pipe down. His hands were shaking as he approached her hesitantly. "You don't mind?"

Emma laughed lightly. "I wouldn't have asked if I did." She took his rough hand and placed it over her stomach in just the right place. "Give her a minute," Emma urged.

Almost immediately the babe gave a big kick. Patrick cried out with shock and leapt back. A smile split his face. "Well, I'll be damned," he mumbled. "Can I feel that again?"

Emma nodded. "Of course."

After several more kicks, the babe began to calm down. Patrick's eyes were a bit red as he began to pitch in with the supper cleanup. "Thank you for that, Emma.... I'd forgotten what it felt like to feel a baby move in its mama's belly. It certainly is a wonder of the world."

"Your granddaughter is going to love you, Patrick." Emma assured him, pausing in her dish washing duty. "You'll be an amazing grandfather to her."

Patrick swallowed hard before chuckling quietly. "According to Liam, I'm going to have a grandson."

Emma waved her wet hand. "Either way, you'll be loved and they will be spoiled."

The two enjoyed light conversation back and forth as they continued the chores. Emma was eager for Liam to return home tomorrow but, honestly, she was also enjoying this time with Patrick. It reminded her of the time they'd spent together when Liam had been gone in the spring.

Emma pointed toward the table. "Patrick, could you bring me that bowl. I forgot to grab......"

Her words were cut off when a gunshot sounded. Glass shattered near her and Emma felt the burning, searing pain of a bullet slamming into her arm.

She fell instantly, crying out with fear and pain.

Patrick shouted. He blew out the nearby lantern to surround them in nearly complete darkness. "Emma?" he whispered, crouching low and approaching her. "Are you okay?"

She was shaking and the pain was intense but she nodded. "It only hit by arm," she replied. "Who is shooting at us?" She felt foolish for even asking the question.

It could only be one person.

If Patrick thought the same, he didn't say. "I'm going to check out the other window. You stay down and stay hid."

Emma's eyes were wide as Patrick went to the window and rose up enough to glance outside. HE dropped instantly, just before a bullet shattered that window as well.

"Did you see who it is?" Emma hissed.

Patrick nodded. "Three of them. Your pa is one...."

Emma felt tears filling her eyes. Damn that man. Why couldn't he just leave her alone? Why.......

Patrick stuck his other revolver out the window and began firing blindly. As he reloaded, more shots rained down on the cabin. Emma had to fight back screams every time the blasts sounded.

Then, to her horror, Patrick rose up. She saw him taking more careful aim and he managed two shots before a bullet finally found him—and then another.

Emma screamed his name as he fell to the floor.

"I think we got him!" she heard her father's voice from outside.

Sometimes snapped inside her. Fear vanished. In its place was rage. She was tired of her father—tired of the threats and the violence. He had murdered her mother. He had attempted to murder her husband. He might have just killed her father-in-law.....

It would be a cold day in hell before she let him murder her unborn child.

Emma crawled to Patrick. She took stock of his injuries. A bullet had grazed his head and knocked him out cold and another had gone into his chest on the right side, fairly high near the shoulder. She was no doctor so she had no way of knowing whether or not it was life-threatening.

"Are you in there, Emma?" her father called.

Emma's hands were shaking but her resolve was strong as she gripped her gun. "You need to stop this, father."

"Or what, Emma?" he mocked. "Are you going to shoot me?"

Emma crawled to the kitchen window—he wouldn't expect her there. She rose up, just enough to see him about twenty feet away, nearing the porch. There was a dead body a bit further out and she recognized one of her uncles walking with her father.

Emma took aim and squeezed the trigger, cursing when the bullet missed its mark and hit the porch post.

Silas stopped in his tracks. "Did you just shoot at me, bitch?"

Instead of responding, Emma took a more careful aim and fired again. The bullet hit her father's arm right arm and his gun clattered to the ground. "Goddammit!" he bellowed.

Emboldened by her actions, Emma fired another shot. The two men turned and began to run away. Emma fired her last three shots at their retreating backs, reloaded her weapon and continued firing into the trees they'd run off into.

The night fell silent.

Emma felt tears building. She felt herself beginning to shake and tremble.

But there was no time.

Patrick needed a doctor.

Emma grabbed a handkerchief from the cabinet and using her good arm and her teeth she tied it tight around her bleeding wound. Then she grabbed a pitcher of water and approaching Patrick.

Feeling a little guilty, Emma poured it on his face and he sputtered to consciousness. "What....?" He mumbled.

"You were shot, Patrick. I gotta get you to the doc but I can't get you up and out of here on my own. You have to get up," Emma stated, knowing there was no time to waste explaining things further.

"Your father?" Patrick stated, sitting up far too quickly and groaning as he clutched at his bleeding head.

"He's gone. They ran away."

She hoped.

Emma helped Patrick to his feet and led him to the porch where he sat down with his gun in his lap to keep watch.

Emma stepped into the barn and removed Colt from his stable. She couldn't saddle him with only one arm but she'd ridden him bareback before—Liam had insisted she learn. He'd said it was a skill she might need someday. He'd been right.

She led Colt to the porch and realized that Patrick had slipped back into unconsciousness. Emma shook him awake. "Come on now," she urged. "You have to get up there."

It took some doing but they both finally managed to get onto Colt's back with the help of the porch steps and the horse's own intelligence.

Emma had never been so terrified as she was going down that dark path. She kept expecting monsters to leap from the trees and attack her.

Patrick was slumping heavier and heavier against her back.

The night felt as if it were laughing at her. Mocking her.

The cold was overwhelming. Her breath swirled around her head.

Emma wasn't at all sure they'd make it.

But they did. The glow of town neared and Emma pointed Colt toward the doc's.

"Emma?"

Chase's voice had her head whipping around she saw the man start running her way. "What the hell are you doing out here, Emma? It's the middle of the night... is that blood?"

"Please, Chase, help! Patrick needs the doc!"

Chase grabbed the unconscious older man and pulled him from the horse, tossing him over his shoulder. "What about you?" he demanded. "What happened?"

"I'm fine.. I'll explain later. Just please get him there quickly. I'm coming."

Chase seemed torn a moment but finally nodded and ran, as quickly as he could with a man on his shoulder, toward the doc's.

By the time Emma managed to get off Colt's back and climb the doc's stairs, the sitting room was empty. Chase and the Doc were back in the other room with Patrick and she could hear their worried voices through the door.

Emma sat down on the sofa.

She felt numb as she rocked back and forth and simply started at the wall. The ticking of the clock seemed to echo in her ears.

Finally, the door to the other room opened. Chase and the doc emerged. "Is Patrick going to be okay?" Emma demanded. She stood quickly, her head swam and she collapsed against the sofa.

Chase stormed toward her. "HE's going to be fine, but why didn't you tell me you'd been shot?" he demanded, pulling off her make-shift bandage.

Emma hissed in pain. "Because it's nothing serious," she replied. "And don't yell at me.... Please?" she whispered. She simply couldn't take it.

Chase's gaze softened. He smoothed her hair from her face. "I didn't mean to yell. I happen to care a hell of a lot about you, Emma. And I can't imagine what would happen to Liam if he lost you. What happened?"

"She can tell you after we get that bullet out of her arm," the doc countered. He motioned toward a metal table nearby. "Hop up there and lay down."

Emma was too weak to stand alone. Chase lifted her to her feet and guided her to the table before picking her up and laying her upon it. He slid off his gun belt and held the strap up to her mouth as the doctor opened a satchel full of sharp tools.

"What's that for?" Emma asked Chase, her stomach rolling.

"This is gonna hurt, Emma. You'll want to bite down on something."

"Hold her down," the doc ordered, appearing none too happy about the task he had to perform.

Chase laid across her legs and held her arms tight. Emma bit down on the leather strap. She saw lantern light glint off of something metal in the doctor's hand just before pain blinded her to all else in the world.

Emma's entire body tensed, her veins bulged, sweat slicked her skin and she bit down with all her might on that strap as tears poured form her eyes.

It took the doctor less than a minute to remove the bullet from her arm, but it seemed as if that minute stretched on for hours.

He cleaned and dressed the wound, and then Chase carried her back to the sofa and laid her down with a pillow, a blanket and a glass of water.

She was trembling with sheer exhaustion as he put his gun belt back on. "You left your mark on it," he noted, pointing toward her teeth prints.

Emma shivered. "I'm so tired."

Chase knelt down and kissed her brow. "I'm going to go get Kyle. Let Ben, Cassandra and Anita know what's going on. You rest until we're all back. I'm sure you only want to tell the story once."

Emma nodded.

After the events of the night, she should be too afraid to sleep—but exhaustion overrode every other thought or feeling she had and sleep claimed her within seconds.