Hell, you pull more than your weight." And besides, he trailed off, unsure how to finish. "Besides what?" "Besides, I like having you around," Wyatt said, the words coming out rougher than he'd intended. Place feels less empty with you here.
Ayla smiled small and tentative. "It feels less lonely for me, too." They rode the rest of the way in comfortable silence. And when they reached the ranch, they dismounted together and stood looking at the cabin. It was damaged.
Sure, the windows would need replacing. The door needed fixing. Half the furniture was destroyed. But it was still standing, still home. "We've got work to do," Wyatt said.
"Yeah," Ayla agreed. "We do." Over the next few weeks, they threw themselves into repairs. Wyatt fixed the door and replaced the broken windows while Ayla patched the holes in the walls and swept out the debris. They worked side by side, falling back into the rhythm they'd built before Harlo and his men had shattered it.
But something had changed between them. The easy silence was still there. But now it was underscored by something deeper. a connection forged in fire and fear, tempered by trust and survival. They moved around each other with an awareness that hadn't been there before. Their hands brushing as they passed tools, their eyes meeting across the room and holding for just a moment too long.
One night, after a long day of work, they sat by the fire. The cabin was warm again, the worst of the damage repaired. Outside, the wind howled, but inside it was safe and quiet. "Can I ask you something?" Ayla said.
"Sure." What made you stop at the train station that night?" "Really?" Wyatt thought about that. He'd given her an answer before, but it hadn't been the whole truth.
The whole truth was harder to put into words. I saw someone who needed help, he said slowly, and I couldn't walk away. Maybe it was because of Sarah. Maybe it was because I was tired of being alone. Or maybe it was just that you looked at me like I was someone worth trusting, even though you had no reason to.
Whatever it was, I'm glad I stopped. "Me, too," Ayla said softly. She shifted closer, and Wyatt felt his heart kick up a notch. He'd been alone for so long, he'd forgotten what it felt like to want someone nearby. But he wanted her.
Wanted her presence, her strength, her quiet resilience. "Wyatt," she said. "Yeah?" "Thank you for everything." "Don't need to thank me."
"I know, but I'm going to anyway." She leaned her head against his shoulder, and Wyatt put his arm around her. They sat like that, watching the fire burn down to embers. And for the first time in years, Wyatt felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be. The winter began to ease.