His small fingers closed around hers with more strength than she expected. The gesture pulled a trembling breath from her chest. Only then did she fully understand how close she had come to losing him. Wade rose and walked slowly back towards the cabin, leaving Seiya enough room to sit with her thoughts. Inside, he filled a pot with water and set it near the stove to warm.
He laid out what they might need if Taza had to be cleaned or cooled again. He checked the food stores, set a few supplies within easy reach. Wade had no idea how long Seiya and Taza would remain there. He did not know what the next day would bring or the day after that. But one thing had become clear.
That woman and her son no longer felt like strangers passing through. They had begun to belong to the land around him, to the cabin, to the quiet he had spent years protecting from everyone else. Outside, Seiya watched Taza breathe in the cool morning air. Her gaze drifted towards the cabin door where Wade had just disappeared, and something unfamiliar began to settle inside her chest. It was not relief, not exactly safety, either.
It was the first fragile beginning of trust. She did not yet know what to call it, but she could no longer pretend it was not there. And the day had barely begun. By the time the sun climbed fully above the ridge, a soft, even light had spread across Wade Coulter's yard. That was when Taza moved again for the second time that morning.
Seiya had left him resting on the blanket while a light breeze passed through the grass and with every hour another small sign of recovery appeared. His eyes stayed open longer. His fingers closed with more strength, and his breathing no longer sounded as though every breath had to be fought for. Wade stepped out of the cabin carrying a bowl of broth he had prepared before sunrise. He lowered himself onto the ground beside Seiya and leaned closer, studying the color in the boy's face.
He's doing better," Wade said after a careful look. Seiya nodded without releasing Taza's hand. The fear was still there beneath the calmness of her expression. Not because she doubted Wade, because she remembered how quickly the people she loved could be taken from her. Wade dropped to one knee and carefully lifted Taza enough to help him take another swallow of broth.
The boy struggled to get it down, but he managed. It was a small thing. Still, neither adult missed what it meant. When Taza weakly pushed the spoon away, Wade shifted him gently and let him rest again. Seiya's expression softened.
For the first time in days, the tension in her shoulders eased. He's responding again," she whispered. Wade gave a small nod. That's a good sign. Taza rested his head against his mother's chest and stared across the yard as though he were seeing the world around him for the first time since arriving.
Wade followed the boy's gaze. First, Taza watched the horses tied near the corral, then the fence posts, then the dry grass bending beneath the wind. His curiosity was coming back. Wade stood and wiped his hands against his trousers. If he stays awake a little longer, we could see whether he can sit up on his own.