Maybe it's time to set it down. I don't know if I can. Not all at once, she agreed. But maybe piece by piece. Starting with accepting that what happened the other night, you standing with me, fighting for us, that's the truth of who you are now.
Not the scared young man you were 6 years ago, but the man you've become since. Before Silas could respond, Sheriff Morrison appeared at the door, his face grim. "Need you both at my office," he said without preamble. "We've got something." They followed him through town to the sheriff's office, where two men sat in cells at the back.
Rough-looking characters with the kind of faces that advertised hard living and harder choices. One of them had a bandage on his left shoulder, seeping blood through the gauze. "Recognize him?" Morrison asked Silas. Silas studied the wounded man, trying to reconcile the panicked glimpse from two nights ago with the surly criminal glaring back at him now.
Could be, he said carefully. It was dark, but the shoulder wound's right. Oh, it's him, Morrison said with satisfaction. Him and his partner here tried to rob the bank this morning. Stupid, desperate move.
Got caught within 5 minutes. And once we had them, they started talking, trying to bargain for lighter sentences by giving up the rest of their gang. Where are the others? Norah asked. Camped in the Badlands, according to these two.
Posi rode out an hour ago with territorial marshals leading. Should have them rounded up by nightfall if the information's good. Morrison crossed his arms, looking satisfied. It's over, or will be soon. You can go home.
Relief flooded through Silas so intensely it left him dizzy. Over. After 6 years of living with the aftermath of violence and the fear of its return, it was actually over. The men who'd tried to take what was his, who'd threatened Nora, who'd made him face his worst memories. They'd be locked up, tried, sentenced.
Justice, real justice, not the expensive futility of Pinkerton investigations. "Can we see them?" Norah asked suddenly. Morrison looked surprised. The prisoners.
Why? Because I want them to see us, she replied. Want them to see who they threatened. Want them to understand what they tried to destroy. Morrison shrugged and gestured toward the cells.