What are you looking for? She asked. Patterns. What kind? Movement, tracks, signs it's circling back.
And if it does? He didn't turn. I'll deal with it. Simple, like everything else he said. Clara stepped closer, not too close, but enough to see what he saw.
The white field, the broken line of trees, nothing moving, nothing safe. You've done this before, she said. Yes, what was it? A bear once. She went still.
A bear? It didn't leave. A pause. I made it. Clara swallowed.
You think that's what this is? I don't know yet. That was worse. Not knowing. The fire cracked behind them.
The cabin held its warmth, but outside something was out there watching, waiting, and inside something else was changing. Slow, quiet. Clara looked at him, at the man who had stepped into her life without warning, fixed her fence, split her wood, stood between her and whatever moved in the dark. You really weren't looking for cattle, were you? He turned this time.
Met her eyes. No. Then why come? A beat, long enough to matter. You know why.
Her breath caught. Just slightly. She looked down, then back up. I don't. Yes, you do.
The space between them closed, not by much, but enough. Enough that she could feel the heat from him. Enough that her pulse picked up. This isn't simple, she said. No, I just She stopped, didn't finish, didn't know how.
Elijah didn't move closer, didn't reach for her, just stayed there. Waiting, like he would let her decide everything. And that that made it harder. Not easier, because part of her wanted to step forward. To close the space.
To stop feeling like she was standing at the edge of something too big to control. But another part held her in place. Still, careful. You should rest, he said finally. His voice lower now.
I'll take first watch. You're not sleeping? Later, she nodded. Didn't argue, didn't tell him to stop. Because she knew he wouldn't and because she didn't want him to.
Clara moved toward the bed, lay down, but didn't close her eyes. Not right away. Across the room Elijah sat in the chair, rifle resting across his lap, watching the door, watching the window, watching everything. The firelight flickered across his face. Rough lines.
Steady eyes. A man built to stand between danger and whatever he chose to protect. Clara turned slightly, facing him, her voice barely above a whisper. Elijah. He looked at her instantly.
Yes. She hesitated. Then don't let it get inside. His expression didn't change, but something in his eyes did. It won't.