You stood with me. You fought for what's ours. That's courage. That's strength. Tom came back as Silas was pulling himself together.
We'll post watches tonight, he announced. Take turns. They might be stupid enough to come back. That's not necessary, Silas started. But Tom cut him off.
Neighbors help neighbors, he said firmly. That's how we survive out here. You'd do the same for us. He looked at Nora. Both of you would.
Hell, you already have. They organized a watch rotation. Three men staying through the night taking shifts. Tom insisted on taking first watch himself, saying he owed them for the fence repair and the dozen other small kindnesses Norah had shown his family in the months since her arrival. When the chaos finally settled and they were alone again in their cabin, Silas and Norah sat in the darkness.
Neither of them had thought to break with lamplight. The silence between them was full of everything they'd survived, everything they'd proven. "I thought I'd freeze again," Silas said finally. "Thought that when it mattered, I'd be the same useless coward I was 6 years ago." "But you weren't," Norah replied.
"No, because of you. Because you believed I could do it. And that belief made it possible. You did it yourself, Silas. I just reminded you that you could.
He turned to her in the darkness. The rustlers. That man whose mother called you a draft horse. Your fiances who left. Every person who made you feel too big or too much. They were all wrong.
You're not too anything. You're exactly enough. You're everything. He heard her breath catch. Heard the emotion she was trying to hold back.
Don't make me cry," she whispered. "I'm trying to be strong." "You don't have to be strong all the time," Silas replied. "That's what having a partner means. When you're tired, I'll carry the weight.