"I'd done a dozen of them, but I got greedy. Driver said there was extra payroll in the strongbox, twice what we expected. I should have known it was a setup." Ayah didn't say anything.
She just waited. "They were waiting for us," Rhett continued. "Sheriff and six deputies hiding in the rocks. We rode right into it."
"Caleb saw them first. Shouted a warning. Took a bullet meant for me." His voice cracked. "I got him on his horse, tried to run, but he was bleeding too bad. Died before we made it two miles."
"And you've been running ever since." "Yeah." "From what?" "The law. Myself."
Rhett rubbed his face. "The law doesn't care anymore. It was four years ago, and I never pulled the trigger. But I care."
"I got him into it. I pushed for that job. I ignored every sign that said don't. So yeah, I've been running from that." Ayah shifted closer.
Close enough that their shoulders touched. "You know what I think?" "What?" "I think Caleb wouldn't want you to spend the rest of your life in a barn punishing yourself."
"I think he'd want you to live." "You didn't know him." "No, but I know what it's like to be the one left behind. And I know that the people we lose don't want us to disappear with them."
"They want us to carry them forward. There's a difference." Rhett looked at her. Water dripped from her hair and clothes.
She looked exhausted, half-drowned, and still somehow stronger than anyone he'd ever met. "How do you do it?" he asked. "How do you keep going when you've lost everything?" "I haven't lost everything."
"I'm still here. So are you." She held up the seeds she'd saved, clutched in her palm. "So are these. As long as we're here, it's not over."
The cabin shuddered again. A horrible cracking sound came from somewhere outside. Wood splitting, something heavy falling. Rhett stood and moved to the window.
The water was halfway up the door now, and the current was strong enough that debris kept slamming into the cabin's side. "We might have to get on the roof," he said. "Can we?" "If we have to, yeah. There's a crawl-space hatch."
"But if the cabin goes, we go with it. Creek's too fast to swim." Ayah stood, tucking the seeds carefully into an inner pocket of her dress. "Then we don't let the cabin go."
"Not sure we get a say in that." "We always get a say." She moved to the door and pressed her hand against it, closing her eyes. "The storm's breaking. Can you feel it?"
Rhett didn't feel anything except cold and wet and tired, but he didn't argue. If she wanted to hope, he wasn't going to take that from her. They waited. The water rose another few inches, then seemed to hold.