The wind bites through your coat as you saddle up, fingers stiff from the cold. The gate groans as it creaks open, revealing the endless stretch of snow-covered wilderness beyond Jackson. Tommy stands nearby, grinning in that easy way of his, completely oblivious to the tension hanging heavy in the air.

“Well, ain’t this a treat,” he jokes, clapping Joel on the shoulder. “Figured it’s time y’all got acquainted better. Maybe you’ll learn a thing or two from each other.”

Joel grunts, not bothering to hide his displeasure. His jaw is set tight, lips pressed into a grim line. You’d seen people give you the side-eye since arriving in Jackson, but none had made it as obvious as him.

“I’ll take care of it myself next time,” Joel mutters, voice rough as gravel.

“Now, don’t be like that,” Tommy says, ignoring the glare his brother shoots him. “She’s capable. Give her a shot.”

Joel doesn't respond, just turns sharply and mounts his horse with practiced ease. You bristle at the slight but bite your tongue, forcing yourself into the saddle.

The first half-hour passes in tense silence, the only sounds the crunch of snow beneath hooves and the occasional whistle of the wind through the trees. You steal glances at Joel, his face carved from stone, unreadable but brimming with judgment.