But there was one more thing left to do before he could call any of it finished. He rode out alone one morning, back toward the old claim outside Tucson, back toward a small fenced plot he hadn't visited in longer than he wanted to admit, even to himself. Autumn Sky insisted on didn't ask permission exactly. Just showed up at the well with her horse saddled and an expression that made clear this particular argument wasn't one Wade was going to win. They rode in silence most of the way.
Some things don't need filling with words. The old claim looked smaller than Wade remembered it. That surprised him more than it probably should have. Five years he'd built this place up in his mind into something vast. Something that had swallowed his whole life whole.
And here it was, just a burned-out foundation and a sagging fence, no bigger than any other failed homestead scattered across this territory. The fence post was still standing. the one Sarah's shawl had caught on that first terrible morning. Weathered gray now, leaning hard to one side. Nothing left of the blue fabric that had once hung there, except the memory Wade had never quite managed to set down. He stood in front of it a long moment before he could make himself walk any further.
The grave marker was weathered, half sunk into the ground. The drought had cracked around it. Sarah's name barely legible anymore beneath five years of sun and wind and neglect. Wade knelt beside it a long time, saying nothing at all, and Autumn Sky stood a respectful distance back, letting him have whatever this moment needed to be. I'm sorry, Wade said finally, to a woman who couldn't hear him, same as he'd once spoken to another woman who couldn't hear him either, dying on the front of his saddle under a brutal midday sun.
Sorry it took me this long to find out the truth. Sorry I spent five years hating people who never did you a single wrong thing. You'd have had something to say about that. I expect probably something sharp enough to leave a mark. He set a cactus branch across the headstone.
One just beginning to bloom. Small yellow flowers pushing stubborn through thorns. Found this growing wild near the spring, he said. Figured you'd have liked it there. something beautiful growing out of ground that's supposed to be too hard for it. Autumn Sky knelt beside him after a while, quiet, careful not to intrude further than he wanted.
"She sounds like she was easy to love," she said. "She was good." That means you know how to do it properly. Some men never learn." Wade looked at her.
This woman he'd known less than two full months, who'd argued him into better work, taught him careful words in a language he was still mangling most days, forgiven him a hatred he hadn't even known he was carrying until it started coming apart in his own hands. I'm not looking to replace her, he said. Want you to know that plane. I never once thought you were. Autumn Sky hand found his steady for sure.