4. Thaws Silent Threat #2
Sawyer let out a humorless breath. "If I thought you were going to screw anything up, I wouldn't let you go in the first place."
Seth frowned. "You're not coming, though."
"No," Sawyer said. "I'm not." He kicked a frozen pinecone off the trail and watched it skitter into the dark. "Addy's too far along for me to risk it. You know that."
Seth nodded. "Yeah. I know."
They reached a fallen log and sat. Sawyer leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and took his time finding the words.
"I brought you out here because I know that look you've got," he said. "I've seen it in the mirror—after a mission goes bad, after you lose people you were supposed to bring home. It gets in your skin. Doesn't matter how much time passes. You can't shake it."
Seth's shoulders hunched, his eyes fixed on the snow at his feet.
"It's different now," he said. "Back then...
at least there were rules. Missions. Structure.
Somebody above you making the calls. Now it's just chaos, every day, and Molly and my kid—" His voice broke.
"They're gone because I couldn't stop it.
And now Jay's counting on me. Cara's counting on me.
And I'm terrified I'm not the man I used to be. "
Sawyer let the silence stretch, giving him room to breathe before answering.
"You're not the man you used to be."
Seth stiffened beside him.
"None of us are," Sawyer continued, his voice steady.
"You think Jay is the same man he was before the collapse?
You think I am? Hell, the only reason I'm still breathing is because Addy gave me something to fight for.
" He turned and looked directly at Seth, holding his gaze.
"The question isn't whether you're the same man.
The question is—are you the man who shows up when it matters? "
Seth swallowed hard. "I want to be."
"You are," Sawyer said. "I've watched you these past months.
You're steady. Careful. You think before you act—which, trust me, beats reckless out there every single time.
Jay trusts you. Cara trusts you." He nudged Seth's shoulder with his own.
"And I trust you. If I didn't, I'd be chained to the back of that damn SUV right now, pregnant significant other or not. "
They sat in the quiet, listening to the wind move through the trees above them, neither man in a hurry to end it.
Seth finally exhaled, long and slow. "I just... I want to be useful again. I want to make sure those two come home."
"And you will," Sawyer said. "You're not doing this alone.
Jay knows what he's doing, and Cara? That girl could track sunlight through a cave.
She'll watch your back, and you'll watch hers.
" He clapped a hand on Seth's shoulder and let it rest there.
"Just come home. You deserve that chance as much as anybody. "
Seth's eyes glistened in the moonlight, but he blinked away the dampness before it could become anything more.
"Thanks," he said. "For the talk."
Sawyer stood and stretched, working the cold out of his joints. "Anytime. Soldiers don't leave each other hanging." Then he leveled a teasing finger at Seth. "But if you get yourself killed, I swear to God I will drag your ass out of the afterlife and beat it."
Seth snorted. "Fair."
They headed back toward the cabin, its windows glowing with warmth.
Addy rose before dawn, the cabin still bathed in the blue-gray of morning. Everyone else slept on—Sawyer's soft breathing behind their bedroom door, Jay and Cara tucked away in their new room, Seth in his room, Watch curled near the fire like a warm, loyal boulder.
She wanted this morning to seem normal—as normal as anything could be before sending half her family into danger for weeks. So she moved silently through the kitchen, stoking the fire, heating the cast-iron pan, whisking eggs in the dim morning light.
Pancakes. Real pancakes.
The bag of flour in her hands might as well have been treasure. The powdered milk, gold. And the maple syrup—the surprise Sawyer had carried home from one of their last town runs—sat waiting on the counter like a special occasion about to happen.
She hummed as she flipped the batter, the warm, sweet, comforting smell slowly filling the cabin. It was a scent that didn't belong to the end of the world, yet, somehow anchored her right in the middle of it.
Footsteps padded behind her, and Cara emerged from the hallway, red hair pulled into a messy braid, still rubbing sleep from her eyes. "You're... cooking a feast?"
Addy laughed. "Pancakes and eggs aren't a feast."
Cara sniffed the air appreciatively. "That smells like a feast."
Addy grinned and held up the small glass jar. "It gets better. Sawyer found this in town. Maple syrup."
Cara blinked at her, genuinely confused. "Tree Sugar? You pour it on pancakes?"
Addy burst into a laugh so loud she had to slap a hand over her mouth to keep from waking Sawyer. "Tree sugar? Oh my god, I'm telling him you called it that."
Cara crossed her arms, her cheeks flushing pink. "Well—isn't that what it is?"
"Yes," Addy admitted, through fading giggles. "But no one calls it that."