"He saved my life."
"Is that all he did?"
I could deny it. Should deny it. But these people have been through hell with me, have trusted me with their lives, and I owe them honesty.
"No," I admit. "That's not all he did."
"So what are you still doing here?"
"What do you mean? I'm here because this is where the convoy is going. This is where I need to be."
"Ruby, you've been instrumental in getting us settled. You've organized supplies, mapped out expansion plans, established protocols." Devin stands, moving to stand in front of me. "We're stable now. We don't need you here every minute."
"But—"
"But nothing. If you want to go back to him, go."
"I can't just leave."
"Why not? You afraid he won't want you?"
The question hits harder than I expect. "Maybe."
"That man looked at you like you were the only thing keeping the sun from going dark. Trust me, he wants you."
"He has his own demons. He might not be ready for me."
"Or maybe he is, and you're both being stubborn idiots about it." Devin grins. "Go back, Ruby. At least talk to him. See if there's something there worth building on."
I look around the room at all the encouraging faces. "You're all okay with this?"
"We're not going to fall apart without you. Though we'll miss your terrifying efficiency."
"And your habit of rearranging everything," someone else adds.
"And your insistence on proper inventory protocols," a third person chimes in.
I'm laughing now, tears pricking my eyes. "You're all terrible."
"We're all family," Devin corrects. "And family wants you to be happy. So go be happy with your mountain man."
I look at the radio in the corner, thinking about the signal that's been silent for two weeks. Mayson doesn't know I'm coming. I could radio ahead, give him warning, but something makes me hesitate. What if he doesn't answer? What if he does, but he's moved on?
"I'll leave in the morning," I decide. "Give me tonight to pack, say proper goodbyes."
"Fair enough."
That night, I can barely sleep. I'm excited, terrified, second-guessing every decision. What if this is a mistake? What if I'm throwing away stability and community for a man I barely know?
But then I remember the way Mayson looked at me in the firelight. The way he opened up about his crew, his guilt, his ghosts. The way he promised I'd always be welcome.
That's not nothing. That's everything.
I leave at dawn, carrying a lighter pack than before. I just have essentials, weapons, and a few supplies for Mayson. The hike back to his mountain takes three days, and every step feels like coming home.
When I finally see the cabin through the trees, my heart starts racing. Smoke curls from the chimney. Everything looks the same as when I left, but also somehow different. Brighter, maybe. More welcoming.
Or maybe that's just because I know what's inside.
