"Worrying about tomorrow?"
"About many things. Tomorrow. The past. The future."
She paused. "About what I said to Kuruk."
"You didn't have to say that."
"I know."
"You don't really trust me. Do you? Know what I feel?"
She leaned forward slightly. "When I first came to your house, I hated you. I wanted you to suffer as I had suffered."
"I wanted to watch you realize what you had taken from me."
"I know."
"But then you did not act as I expected. You did not force me or hurt me or treat me like property. You gave me space."
"You shared your pain. You stood against the marshal and the captain for me. You chose me over your safety."
She shook her head slowly. "I do not know when it changed. Maybe when you told me about Emily and your children."
"Maybe when you nearly died fighting the fire. Maybe when you refused to let Hollis take me. But something changed."
"Takala—"
"I am not saying I have forgiven you for Matto. I may never forgive you completely. But I am saying that I see you now as more than the man who killed my husband."
"I see you as the man who saved Chaska. As the man who stands against injustice, even when it costs him everything. As the man who might, if we both survive tomorrow, become someone I could care for."
She stood up and moved toward the lodge entrance.
"Where are you going?" I asked.
"Back to the women's lodge. It is not proper for me to be here alone with you. But I wanted you to know, before tomorrow, in case..."
She didn't finish the sentence. After she left, I lay back down and stared at the smoke hole in the lodge roof, watching sparks spiral up into the darkness. Whatever happened tomorrow, at least I would know that this, right now, had been real. Dawn came too quickly.
We rode toward Silver Ridge in a column, Kuruk at the front carrying a white flag made from a torn shirt tied to a lance. His 20 warriors spread out behind him, armed, but with their weapons lowered. Quinn and I rode on either side of Kuruk. Takala rode with the warriors, her face set and determined.