Chapter Twenty-Five #2
“I’ve lost everything before,” Weston began, unsure whether to continue, whether his words were only worsen the situation.
But he felt like talking, so he did. “And when it happened, folks liked to tell me that I still had my health, my grit, my pride.” He looked back at the empty field.
“But to be honest, none of that kept me warm when winter came.”
Nora turned her head toward him. Her eyes were tired all of a sudden, exhausted from everything that life brought recently. She nodded, and after a long pause, she answered. “I hate that I’m scared.” Her voice was quiet, angry. “I hate that I have to be.”
Weston stepped a little closer. He didn’t touch her, but he was close enough to share the silence. “The good thing is…you have me by your side.”
Her eyes flicked up to meet his. Her trust was there, tentative and earned.
He didn’t smile, didn’t try to lighten the situation.
He just stood with her, in the ruins of a life they had started building together.
But for some reason, he felt like there was still a way to make things work again.
You have to make them work again, Crane. You must.
Suddenly, Weston heard hooves approaching fast and urgent.
He turned just as a horse crested the rise, dark, lean, and cutting a hard line against the sky.
The rider brought it down the slope at a sharp angle.
The reins were loose in one hand, and the body was moving like he and the horse were made from the same bone.
“Cade!“ Nora shouted.
He pulled up smoothly, with barely a breath of effort in the way he swung down from the saddle. “Duke filled me in,” he said, his words clipped. His gaze swept over the field, the slashed wire, and the empty pasture. “Unfortunately, he wasn’t exaggerating when he told me about the disaster.”
“Thank you for coming," Nora said, sounding a touch impatient.
“No sign of a fight,” Cade went on, more to himself than anyone else. “They worked fast…and it looks like they drove them west, toward the canyon mouth.”
“You think they covered their tracks?” Weston asked.
Cade gave a slight shrug. “They tried. Not well enough, though. I can follow them.”
Nora had come to stand nearby with her arms crossed tight again, listening. Weston discreetly put his hand on her back, caressing her gently.
“I’ll ride east first,” Cade continued. “Folks down that way keep to themselves, but they don’t miss much. Someone must’ve seen a herd this size moving through.”
Weston’s gut was churning. The longer he looked at the wreckage, the tighter the knot twisted. His hands were still, but the heat in his chest wouldn’t cool. “This was Colter,” he said quickly, without looking at Cade.
“Figured as much,” Cade replied with the certainty of a man who knows his job. “I’ll pay him a visit. Ask him where he was last night, see if his men got a little too ambitious.”
“Be careful,” Nora said. “You know he won’t take kindly to being cornered.”
Cade gave her a dry smile. “He never liked me much to begin with.” He turned back to his horse and swung up into the saddle with one fluid motion. “I’ll be back by sundown…sooner, if everything goes well.”
***
The silence was deep, stretching across the broken pasture like a shroud. Weston kept his boots planted in the trampled dirt and set his hat low against the sun. Not far off, the fence creaked in the breeze, making a slow and mournful sound.
Nora hadn’t moved. She stood at the edge of the field. Weston watched her, the way her shoulders rose and fell with careful, measured inhales of fresh air, as if she were holding herself together one breath at a time.
He slowly stepped toward her. For a second, she didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe she did and didn’t know how to respond. But when he came close enough that the distance between them faded, she finally looked up at him.
There was no anger in her eyes, nor tears. There was just that quiet, exhausted grief that came from losing something one would fight tooth and nail to protect.
Finally, he reached out and pulled her into his arms. She hesitated only a heartbeat, then let herself lean into him, as her forehead rested against his shoulder, and her breath felt warm against his collar. She exhaled, as he eventually he felt her soften.
“It’ll be all right,” Weston murmured, even though he himself didn’t believe those words, no matter how hard he tried. “We’ll get through it. I swear to you, Nora. We’ll get through it.”
He held her like that, as both of them stood in the middle of everything they’d just lost. The broken fence was just a few feet away, and the empty field stretched out like a wound.
His arms tightened around her even more, and he closed his eyes.
The pain was unbalanced. He’d lost too much already.
His parents, his sister, the land that bore their names...
And just when he thought he might have found something worth holding onto again—this place, this family, her—it was all under threat.
So he did something he hadn’t done in a long while.
Lord, I don’t ask for much. I know I’ve failed more times than I can count. But I’m asking You now, please, be with me. Be with her. Be with this land, this home, this family…it’s worth fighting for. I can show you that. Just let me be strong enough. Let me be ready for what comes next.
Nora slightly shifted against him steadying herself, as if she had felt the prayer herself.
Please, Lord. I don’t need signs or promises.
Just a little light on the path ahead. Because I swear to You, I’ll ride out.
I’ll put myself between my people and the ones trying to break them.
But I can’t do it alone. Please, Lord…Stand with me when I go.
Let Your hand be over mine. Let justice prevail.
Let it be swift, and let it be right. Because I aim to set this straight. And I aim to take back what’s ours.
He finally opened his eyes. Without a word, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Nora’s forehead, gently, steadily, and reverently, as she fell deeper into his arms. Weston looked out at the broken fields, the stripped earth, the quiet ache of loss that still clung to the wind.
He felt the change within him, forged in silence and shaped by love.
Then he realized, The strength I need…It’s already here, in my arms. And whatever comes next, I’ll meet it, head-on.