Two riders had passed through recently, heading west. Calder crouched by the tracks for a long time, jaw tight. Someone was still looking. When he returned to the cabin, Naya was tending the fire.
She looked up as soon as she saw his face. "Tracks," he said simply. Her fingers tightened on the poker, but she didn't speak. "We'll be ready," Calder said, his tone firm.
She gave a single sharp nod. When he sat down to pull off his gloves, she came to stand near him, her hand brushing his shoulder in a small, wordless gesture that told him she trusted him to keep that promise. That night, when they lay down, there was no hesitation at all. The next morning broke gray and windless, the kind of stillness Calder never trusted.
He stood on the porch with his coffee, scanning the horizon while Naya moved inside the cabin, quiet but steady. Her presence had become part of the place now, her braid hanging over her shoulder as she worked, her careful way of setting things back where they belonged. Calder's eyes caught something far down the trail. Two faint specks against the pale earth.
Too far to hear, but coming slow. He stayed there until the shapes grew into riders. His gut tightened. He turned and opened the door.
"Naya," he said, voice calm but firm.
She appeared instantly, reading his face before he even spoke. "Men?"
"Yes."
"Two?" Her hands gripped the edge of the doorframe. "Same?"
"Could be."
For a moment, he expected her to go to the back of the cabin to hide, but she didn't move. She just nodded once and said, "I stay." Calder held her gaze for a long second, then gave a single nod.
"Inside. Bolt the door after me. Don't open unless it's my voice." She obeyed without argument as he stepped out onto the porch. The air felt colder than it had an hour ago.
The kind of cold that sat heavy on the skin. Calder stood at the edge of the porch, rifle in hand, watching as the riders came closer. When they reached the gate, they slowed. One of them, the older one with a trimmed beard and a worn coat, raised a hand in greeting that didn't match the hard look in his eyes.
"Morning," the man called.
Calder didn't move. "You're a long way from town."