Neither spoke. Their horses walked close enough that her boot brushed his once. Then again, Grant looked over. Hannah pretended not to notice. Near midnight, they saw lanterns.
High meadow. Two lights moved near the gate. Then one began running. Henry. Molly followed behind him slower through the snow.
Grant straightened despite the pain. Henry reached them before they were fully stopped. P. Grant dismounted badly. Walter caught him.
Henry threw both arms around his father's waist. Grant held him with one arm. Molly reached them next. She pressed herself against Grant's side and started crying. Grant closed his eyes.
I'm here. Hannah stood beside her mare watching them. Henry looked past Grant. His eyes found her. You found him.
Hannah nodded. We found him. Grant looked toward her. The children still clung to him. For one moment, his expression stripped clean of every defense Hannah had learned to read.
Then he held out his good hand. Hannah hesitated. Only a second. She took it. His fingers closed around hers.
Large, cold, careful. He did not let go. Not when Walter helped them toward the porch. Not when Molly moved to Hannah's other side. Not when Henry ran ahead to open the door.
Inside the kitchen stove still glowed. A pot of coffee waited. Blankets had been piled on the parlor chair. The house smelled of smoke, wool, and something Henry had burned trying to make supper. Home, Hannah thought.
The word came so suddenly she almost resented it. Grant lowered himself into the parlor chair. His face had gone gray again. Hannah started to pull her hand away so she could fetch warm water. Grant's grip tightened, barely, enough to stop her.
She looked down. His eyes were closed. His hand remained wrapped around hers. Walter noticed. So did Henry.
No one said a word. Hannah sat beside Grant. For several minutes, she simply stayed there while Snow tapped softly against the windows. Then Grant's breathing deepened. His hand loosened, but even asleep.
He never fully let go. By morning, Grant had a fever. Not a raging one. Not the sort that sent the house into panic, but enough to leave his skin hot beneath Hannah's palm and his breathing rougher than she liked. Walter wanted to send a rider for the doctor in Elk Crossing.
Grant woke long enough to object. No. Hannah rung out a cloth in a basin. Yes. Grant opened one eye.