"You can stay," she said.
"I know."
"Until the storm passes."
"I know."
"Then you should probably stay."
He looked at her.
"Yes."
She smiled.
"Good."
Later, when the fire had burned low, they shared the narrow bed because there was nowhere else warm enough to sleep.
They kept distance between them.
At first.
Aayoka lay facing the wall.
Elias stared at the ceiling.
Neither slept.
After a long silence, she whispered,
"Are you awake?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because you are."
She turned.
Their faces were close.
"What do you trust?"
He thought about it.
"Actions."
"Not words?"
"Words are easy."
"What about promises?"
"Those are words people make when they are afraid of losing something."
She studied him.
"Then what should I do?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Just be here."
Aayoka reached across the space.
She took his hand.
"Then watch."
He looked at her.
She moved closer.
The kiss was gentle.
Careful.
Neither of them pretended it meant more than it did.
Neither pretended it meant less.
When they finally separated, Aayoka rested her forehead against his.
"I haven't done that in six years."
"Neither have I."
"Does that frighten you?"
"Yes."
"Me too."
They remained like that.
Two people who had spent years convincing themselves they could live without companionship.
Two people who had mistaken survival for living.
Outside, the storm continued.
Inside, something began.
Not a replacement for the people they had lost.
Not an escape from grief.
Something new.
Something that did not erase the past.
Something that simply made room for a future.
Before dawn, the storm began to weaken.
Aayoka woke first.
She watched Elias sleeping.
For the first time in years, she did not feel afraid of the morning.
Then she remembered Caleb Rourke.
Her expression changed.
"Elias."
He opened his eyes.
"What?"
"Morning."
He looked toward the window.
"How bad?"
"Better."
He sat up.
"We go to town."
Aayoka shook her head.
"No."
"We need records."
"I know."
"We need to find out who filed the claim."
"I know."
"We need witnesses."
"I know."
"Then why are you saying no?"
"Because Rourke will be waiting."
Elias stood.
"Good."
She frowned.
"Good?"
"I'd rather know where he is."
Aayoka watched him put on his coat.
"You do not have to come."
"I know."
"You have your own ranch."
"I know."
"You could lose everything."
He stopped.
Then turned.
"I already did once."
She stared at him.
"I am not going to let fear decide who I become."
Aayoka lowered her eyes.
"Elias..."
"I am not rescuing you."
She looked up.
"I know."
"I am not fighting your battle."
"I know."
"I am standing beside you."
Her eyes filled.
This time, one tear escaped.
Elias wiped it away.
"Let's go."
The road to Red Mesa was almost invisible beneath the snow.
They traveled on horseback.
Slowly.
Aayoka rode beside him.
The town emerged from the storm near midday.
Red Mesa looked different under snow.
Smaller.
Meaner.
The streets were almost empty.
But one building had its doors open.
The sheriff's office.
They entered.
Sheriff Henry Cole looked up.
His expression changed when he saw Aayoka.
Then Elias.
"Christmas morning."
Elias removed his gloves.
"We need the land records."
Cole frowned.
"Land office is closed."
"Then we wait."
"You'll have to."
Aayoka stepped forward.
"My claim has been challenged."
Cole looked uncomfortable.
"I know."
"By Rourke."
"Yes."
"On what grounds?"
"Transfer document."
"I never signed it."
"I understand."
"No, Sheriff. You don't."
Her voice was firm.
"You are asking me to surrender my home because a man claims my dead husband sold it."
Cole looked away.
Elias stepped forward.
"Show us the document."
"I can't."
"Why?"
"Because it was filed with the territorial office."
"When?"
"Two months ago."
"Who witnessed it?"
"I don't know."
"Who notarized it?"
Cole hesitated.
"Thomas Bell."
Aayoka's eyes narrowed.
"Bell died last year."
The sheriff went silent.
Elias looked at him.
"Then someone forged it."
Cole sighed.
"I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to."
The sheriff lowered his voice.
"Rourke has friends."
"So?"
"You should be careful."
Elias stared at him.
"Careful is how people lose everything."
They left the office.
A man stood across the street.
Caleb Rourke.
He wore a black coat and a wide-brimmed hat.
Two men stood behind him.
Rourke smiled.
"Elias Ward."
Elias stopped.
"Caleb."
"I heard you were spending Christmas with our neighbor."
Aayoka stiffened.
Rourke looked at her.
"You should have accepted my offer."
"My home is not for sale."
"Everything is for sale."
"No."
His smile disappeared.
"You'll regret this."
Elias stepped between them.
Rourke's eyes moved to him.
"This isn't your business."
"It is now."
Rourke laughed.
"You think you can protect her?"
Elias did not answer.
Rourke moved closer.
"You don't know what you're getting into."
Elias's voice was calm.
"Neither do you."
Rourke stared at him.
Then smiled again.
"Enjoy your Christmas."
He walked away.
Aayoka watched him.
"He will come."
"I know."
"He will not stop."
"I know."
"What are we going to do?"
Elias looked toward the land office.
"We find the truth."
They spent the afternoon searching.
The land office records were incomplete.