Breathing hard, fast, words spilled from his mouth. Broken, uneven. No, not the boy. Clara stepped closer. Slow.
The poker tight in her grip. Leave him. Kale. The name hit her like a strike. She stopped.
Her fingers tightened around the iron. Jessup. Don't. Her chest rose slow. Heavy.
Those weren't just names. Everybody knew those names. The kind people spoke low. The Black Creek Gang. Her stomach dropped.
She stared at him. Really looked now. The scars, the hands, the way his body moved. even half dead. A man used to violence, not a drifter. Not just trouble.
Something worse. I won't do it, he gasped. Not the kid, Clara stepped back. The poker felt smaller now. Useless.
Her eyes moved to the door. Open. Storm still raging outside. Cold, dark, endless. All she had to do was walk out.
Leave him here. Let the storm finish. what had started. No one would know. No one would ask. Her hand touched the door.
She looked back. He was quieter now. Barely moving. Breathing shallow. Face pale.
Younger again. Not a killer. Not right now. Just a man slipping away. Her jaw tightened.
She stepped forward again, angry this time. At him, at herself, at the whole damn world. Damn you, she whispered. She grabbed a cloth, pressed it to his forehead. He burned under her hand.
Fever bad. She worked through the night. Cold water, fresh bandage, fire stoked higher. Each time she stepped away, she came back. Didn't question it anymore.
Didn't want to. By morning, the storm had weakened. Rain softer now, like it had spent itself. Clara hadn't. She sat beside him, eyes heavy, body still, watching.
His breathing changed, slower, deeper. Then his eyes opened. Clear this time. No haze, no fight. Just there.
He looked at her. Then around the cabin, taking it in. "You stayed," he said, voice rough. Clara leaned back slightly. "You're still here," she answered.
He tried to sit up. Failed. Pain cut through him. Sharp. He clenched his teeth.
Don't, she said. He ignored it, forced himself halfway up, breathing hard. "I got to go. " "No. " The word came fast. Too fast. He looked at her.
Brows pulled slightly. "Men are coming," he said. "You don't want me here when they do. " Clara stood, arms crossed. "You can barely stand. " "I don't need to stand long. " "You won't make it to the fence. " Silence stretched between them. Heavy.
"Then you heard me," she said. His eyes narrowed slightly. "You don't know what you're holding here. " Clara stepped closer. Close enough now to see every line on his face. "Yeah," she said, her voice low.
Steady. I do. Another pause. Then she spoke again. "I heard the names. " That hit hard.