Page 9 of What Remains

Jay took her hand, his calloused thumb tracing slow circles against her wrist. She became aware of her own pulse and curled her fingers around his, holding on.

"You don't owe me a yes," he whispered, his breath mingling with hers. "You don't owe me anything at all. But I had to ask."

Nothing beyond the snow, his eyes, and their intertwined hands registered for her.

"I'll go," she said, the words a vow.

Jay's gaze darkened, searching her face. "You're sure? This is... well, it's big, Cara."

She nodded once and stepped even closer. "You need a tracker, and I need to know you're safe." Her voice softened. "I'm not afraid of the run—or of us—anymore."

He let out the breath he had been holding, his free hand rising to cup her cheek, his rough palm gentle against her skin. "I didn't know what I was looking for until you," he murmured.

The words seeped inside her chest and stayed there, warm against everything the winter had frozen.

They stood together, snowflakes falling around them. Jay's thumb brushed slowly across her lower lip, his eyes following with an intensity that made her forget the cold completely.

"Let's head back," he murmured at last, his voice filled with promise. "We'll talk to the others tomorrow. Tonight is for us."

By late afternoon the next day, the cabin had grown warm and settled into its quiet monotony of routine. Addy stood at the counter peeling potatoes, the kettle rattling softly beside her as it heated. Sawyer sat at the table running his knife along a whetstone, the steel rasping in slow, steady strokes. Seth lounged near the hearth with Watch sprawled contentedly across his boots, flipping through one of Jay's well-loved field guides without really reading it.

Jay and Cara stepped inside together, brushing snow from their coats and stamping their boots at the door. Addy glanced over her shoulder with a smile already forming—until she caught the tension threaded through their postures, the way they stood just a little too deliberately.

Jay stepped near the table, looking first at Sawyer, then at Seth. Both men met his eyes with understanding, their focus shifting to the impending conversation.

"Addy," Jay said, his tone gentle, "we need to talk to you about something important."

Addy set the potato down slowly, the peeler going still in her hand as she noted the change in the room.

"It's time to talk about a supply run—a big one we've been planning."

Addy went completely still.

"Farther than Ridgeview?" she asked.

"Much farther," Jay confirmed. "A bigger city. More stores, but that means more danger but also more opportunity. Enough to carry us through next winter and longer if we do it right."

Seth nodded from the hearth, his voice low. "We need things we can't get out here anymore. Long-term supplies, seeds, medical stock. Things for the baby."

Addy's hand drifted instinctively to the small curve of her belly, fingers spreading protectively. "How long will we be gone?"

"Two to three weeks," Jay answered honestly, ignoring the we. "Could be less. Could be more. We plan for the worst."

Silence filled the cabin.

Addy looked between all of them, confusion flickering across her face. "You... you already talked about this?"

Sawyer nodded slowly. "We did. We started hashing it out yesterday splitting wood, and Jay brought us the rest of the plan last night." His voice gentled. "We wanted to be sure the whole idea held together before worrying you over something that might not happen."

Addy pressed a hand to her chest, working to absorb it all. "So—so it's decided?"

"Not without telling you first," Sawyer said, his voice soft. "But yeah. It's the best plan we've got. You and I will stay back and keep this place secure. Seth, Jay, and Cara will go."

Addy shot Cara a questioning look, "You want to go?"

Cara lifted her chin. "I can help out there. And I want to. Jay shouldn't go without someone who can track, move silently, and hunt if the food runs thin."

Seth nodded in agreement. "She's the best one for it. Hands down."