The horses were saddled and waiting, and so was Joel.

You stood at the gate, gloved hands clenched tight around your pack strap, stomach roiling with something that wasn’t nerves but felt close enough. The morning was cold with sharp air, low clouds, frost still clinging to the grass. Typical Jackson winter.

He was already mounted up, broad and still, reins loose in one hand like he had nowhere else to be. His face unreadable. He nodded once when he saw you. No words. Just that single, heavy motion.

You didn’t nod back.

“You ready?” you asked, voice thin with effort.

Joel looked you over for a moment, then said, “Been ready.”

You hated the way his voice scraped through you. Calm. Flat. Like nothing had changed.

But everything had.

Eugene had been your partner for nearly two years. Talked too much. Laughed at his own jokes. Always carried two extra granola bars because you were shit at remembering food. He’d taught you how to shoot better, how to track quieter, how to survive in the cold without freezing your fingers off. And Joel had put a bullet in his head last week.

You swung up onto your horse, throat tight. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Joel didn’t answer. Just turned his horse and started riding. The patrol route was familiar. That made it worse.

The trees looked the same. The river was half-frozen in the same lazy curl. But you noticed every place Eugene used to stop. Where he’d check the map even though he knew it by heart. Where he once made you laugh so hard you nearly fell off your horse.

Joel didn’t say a word the entire first hour. You finally broke. “You gonna keep pretending I don’t exist, or is that just part of the charm?”

Joel didn’t even glance over. “Didn’t think you wanted me talkin’.”

“I don’t,” you snapped. “But this silence is worse.”

He sighed through his nose. “You got a problem, just say it.”

You reined in a little, falling back to look at him directly. “Fine. Why you? Why was it you out there with him that day?”

Joel didn’t flinch. Just kept riding.

“It was supposed to be me,” you said, voice quieter now. “I was supposed to be his partner that morning.”

“That how it works now?” Joel said. “You wanna trade places with him?”

The words hit harder than they should have. You sucked in a breath, bitter and sharp.

“Don’t twist it,” you said.

“I ain’t twistin’ anything,” Joel muttered. “Just sayin,” he turned. I did what had to be done.”

“But why didn’t you bring him back?” you asked, voice breaking. “Why not try?”

Joel finally stopped. Turned in his saddle. His eyes met yours; they were tired, haunted.

“Because he asked me not to.” The silence after that was heavy. You stared at him, heartbeat thunderous. “I don’t expect you to forgive me,” he said. “I don’t want your trust. I’m not him.” Then he turned back toward the trail, voice cold again. “But we’ve got a job to do. So let’s do it.”