He looked at her, then slowly moved his coat. The shoulder was swollen again, not badly misshapen, still worse than after the corral accident. Hannah loosened the buttons at his collar enough to examine the bruising. Grant said, "You didn't have to come." Her hands stopped. For a moment, the cabin held only the crackle of damp firewood.
Hannah looked at him. "Yes, I did." "No." His voice softened. "You didn't." She understood what he meant. He had spent weeks refusing to make her responsible for him, for his children, for his house. Now he was trying to give her that same freedom even while sitting half frozen in a trapper's cabin.
Hannah reached into the satchel and pulled out the cked tin flask. Grant recognized it. My coffee. I thought you might complain less with something warm in you. Walter said from across the cabin.
Good luck with that. Grant almost smiled. Hannah poured coffee into a tin cup. It had cooled during the ride, but it was warmer than anything else in the cabin. Grant took it with his good hand.
His fingers brushed hers. Neither pulled away immediately. Then Grant said, "Why did you come?" Hannah looked at him. He was not asking about medicine. "Not really." She heard Henry's voice in her mind.
"Everybody leaves." She heard her own answer. The only promise she had trusted herself to make. Hannah crouched beside Grant and said, "I'm here today." For several seconds, nobody moved. Firewood cracked sharply in the stove. Grant stared at her.
Then, unexpectedly, he laughed. Not loudly, weakly. It came from somewhere deep enough that Hannah felt it more than heard it. He covered his eyes with one hand. "Of course you are." Hannah's throat tightened.
Grant lowered his hand. The laughter faded. His gaze stayed on her. "Of course you are." This time the words sounded different, like recognition, like surrender. Hannah reached for the medicine.
Grant did not argue again. They stayed in the cabin less than an hour. Walter wrapped Samuel's ankle and determined the man could ride if his boot was loosened. Grant was more difficult. His horse had survived the fall, but was skittish and favoring one front leg.
Walter shook his head. He rides double with Tom. Grant objected. No. Walter looked at Hannah.
She said, "Yes." Grant stared at both of them. I'm still running this ranch. Walter shrugged into his coat. Not from the floor. The matter was settled.
They wrapped Grant in two blankets and helped him outside. The storm had eased. Snow still fell, but straight down now instead of sideways. The return trail was slow. Grant rode behind Tom, one arm held tight against his body.
Hannah stayed close. At the first steep descent, her mayor stumbled. Grant's good hand shot out and caught Hannah's forearm. It was impossible from where he sat. Almost.
Still, he reached. Hannah steadied herself. I'm all right. Grant kept hold of her for another second, then released. Later, on flatter ground, Hannah found herself riding beside him.