"Slowly. " she commanded. "You will be sick. " He laid his head back, blinking at her. "You you are still here. " "I am here. " Ayanna said, setting the gourd down. "Nalin ordered it. " Luke watched her. The memory of the storm was hazy, but he remembered her hands.
He remembered her voice pulling him back from the edge. "I had dreams. " Luke whispered. "I know. " Ayanna said. "You talk in your sleep, Carver. You talk of rivers and fires.
You talk of a brother named Will. " Luke closed his eyes. The shame washed over him, fresh and raw. "He was my younger brother. " Luke said. "He died 3 years ago, Apache arrow. " Ayanna did not flinch. "My husband died 3 years ago, soldier's bullet. " The silence in the small hut was heavy, but it was not empty.
It was filled with the wreckage of their shared history. "Why did you ride with them? " Ayanna asked quietly. "You do not hate us. I have seen you with the children. You are not a killer by nature.
Why did you scout for the blue coats? " Luke stared at the roof poles. "I was 22. " he said. "I had nothing. My father left us dead and dry dirt. I wanted I wanted to buy a future.
The army paid in gold. " He turned his head to look at her. "It was not about hate, Ayanna. It was about being poor. I was scared of being powerless. I thought if I had the gold, I could build a wall high enough to keep the world out. " He laughed, a dry, bitter sound.
"I bought the ranch, and the war followed me home anyway. " Ayanna looked down at her hands. "I had a dream once. " she said softly, "before the soldiers came. I dreamed of a valley where the corn grew tall and the children did not wake up screaming. I wanted to be a woman who made things, not a woman who sharpened knives. " She looked up, her dark eyes locking with his blue ones. "We are both fools, Carver.
We thought we could choose our lives, but the land chooses for us. " The emotional closeness was suffocating. It was too intimate, too real. Luke felt a sudden, desperate urge to reach out and touch her hand, to bridge the gap between their tragedies. Ayanna saw it in his eyes. She tensed, fear flickering across her face.
Not fear of him, but fear of what she was feeling. "Rest. " she said abruptly. She blew out the candle, plunging them into darkness. "Sleep. You are not dead yet. " Recovery was slow.
It was another week before Luke could walk without a staff. One afternoon, the air crisp with the coming autumn, they sat together near the corral, repairing a saddle cinch. The conversation turned, as it often did, to the war that raged outside the canyon walls. "You talk like a victim. " Ayanna said, slicing a piece of leather with swift, angry strokes. "You say you had no choice.