"When we decide it ends." "That's not an answer." "It's the only answer we have." Cole drained his glass, set it down harder than he intended. "This doesn't make sense."
"You don't owe me months of your lives. You don't owe me anything." "We disagree," Sani said simply. "Why?" Cole's voice rose, frustration bleeding through.
"Why are you so damn stubborn about this?" Kaya met his eyes, her expression steady. "Because where we're from, a life debt isn't just words. It's a bond, a promise, and breaking it would dishonor everything we are." "Then consider it broken."
"I release you. Debt paid. Done." "It doesn't work that way." "Why not?" "Because you don't get to decide when it's over," Kaya said, her voice calm but firm.
"We do." Cole stared at her, speechless. The absurdity of it all crashed over him like a wave. He'd saved three strangers in a moment of reckless stupidity, and now they'd woven themselves into his life so completely he couldn't remember what it felt like without them. And the worst part was, he didn't want to remember.
"You're all crazy," he muttered. Lyra grinned. "Probably." They left Canyon Bend the next morning, heading east with no particular destination in mind. The days blurred together in a rhythm Cole had grown used to, riding, camping, taking odd jobs when they needed money, moving on when the work dried up.
The women stayed close, always close, and slowly, imperceptibly, the dynamic between them shifted. It wasn't just a debt anymore. It was something else. Something Cole couldn't name and didn't want to examine too closely. Three months passed, then six, then eight, and then, on a cold morning in early autumn, everything changed.
They were camped near a dried-up riverbed, somewhere in the hills south of a town whose name Cole had already forgotten. He woke before dawn, as he always did, and found Kaya sitting by the fire, staring into the embers. "Couldn't sleep?" he asked, sitting down beside her. "Thinking," she said. "About?"
Kaya hesitated, then turned to face him. "About what comes next." "Same as always. We ride, we find work, we keep moving." "What if we stopped moving?"
Cole frowned. "What do you mean?" "I mean, what if we stayed somewhere, built something instead of just surviving?" "Like what?" "I don't know. A ranch, a homestead, something that's ours."
Cole stared at her. "You serious?" "Yes." "That takes money, land, time." "We have money. We can get land and time."
She smiled faintly. "We have plenty of that." Cole looked away, staring out at the dark hills. "I don't stay places, Kaya. Never have." "Maybe it's time to start."