He smiled when he said it and watched as the woman's gleding came happily to join their small group of creatures and humans alike. He had noticed the accent and it made some tension in his shoulders drop a knotch or two.

Whiskey let out a puff of air and stomped his foot at the arrival of the gelding but a sharp look and a muttered 'hey now' shut him up. Shiloh offered the chocolate stud a pat on the shoulder and stepped back a bit to give they grey gelding his space.

Shiloh questioned as Heather clipped on her boy's lead. He assumed she was from somewhere like Texas but it had been awhile since he had been in the South and it had been a damn long time since he had been to Texas so he truly was not sure.

He chuckled, realizing that such a prying question may have been a bit much since they had hardly just met.

He let out a deep laugh at this, his mind wandering to old Brother Jake and his kids (who he had grown up with).

Shiloh liked to share that kinda stuff. As much as he hated Lousiana he loved the people, they had never wronged him. Sometimes he even fantasized about going back to Independence and marrying that same pastor's pretty daughter Caroline. Deep into the daydream when they had had a couple of kids would he remember why that would never happen and why he would never go back. Why he never wanted to go back.

He was imagining her now in the silence of the yard. He saw that pretty blonde hair and that wide grin of hers, Lord knew she had the prettiest bottle green eyes he had ever seen, and she made the best damn pies West of the Mississippi. If she had turned out to be a quarter of the wife she promised she would, Shiloh would have died a happy man. If only that poor girl got the chance.

The shepherd's wagging tail happily thwacked his calf then and Shiloh shook himself from his head and offered Heather a real good smile. Not the time he thought to be thinking of all that fanciful crap. Not the time.

All the | drama

“I just, I don’t know, Vik,” her eyes glowed with wonder that he had seldom seen in the lifetime they’d spent together. “I get this overwhelming feeling that no matter what I do, no matter what he does, we’re going to end up together anyway. There’s something there I can’t explain, it’s different than anything I’ve ever felt before.” She glanced over at him, trying to read his expression. Something was off, she just wasn’t entirely sure what. “Are you okay? You seem distant.”

He glanced over at her, shaking his head. “I was just thinking about the fact that I left my bridle out, sorry. I was listening. Will you go down with me to put it away?”

“Yeah, a walk is a walk,” she replied gently, following him the rest of the way down the path as they resumed their conversation about Alex and the events of the night that had faded into the earliest signs of dawn. It wasn’t until they reached the tack room door that she stopped short, face falling. “Oh my God.”

Rushing into the dark room, Rena fell to the man’s side, checking for a pulse or any sign of life. It was so faint she checked twice just to ensure she hadn’t picked up her own pulse accidentally. “What’s the emergency number here?” She was very calm, but there was a frantic aura about her placidity. She doubted he would know the answer, but it was worth asking out loud.

“9-1-1,” he replied, not looking at the blood spilling out around his brother. Her hands moved from cradling his face to her cell phone, shakily dialing the numbers he told her. Yet, when she gave the address and explained what had happened, the woman on the other end of the line asked if this was a different situation than the one that had been called into the same location about fifteen minutes earlier. Her blood froze, her heart stopped. Obviously there was foul play here, but knowing that someone had called it in prior to their discovery of him filled her with utter terror. Viktor was pale as he stood, unable to take it in, staring at anything else. He was so terrible with blood, he always had been.

The next hours were spent at the hospital with Rena and Viktor mostly silent. She fell asleep on his shoulder after the first five hours of waiting, utterly exhausted from almost twenty-four hours with nothing but the catnap she’d taken in Alex’s arms just an hour or so before all hell broke loose. She had so many questions, so much to say, but none of it seemed important--not yet. Not until she knew whether Max would be okay or not, though the possibility of the latter filled her with a fear she couldn’t express. They were just getting back on good terms, things were finally looking up. She couldn’t imagine losing him after they had just made up, they’d just spent a peaceful afternoon at church together. There was hope for their friendship again, something neither thought they’d see. And now he was laying on an operating table, letting medical professionals fight for his life.

After a solid seven or eight hours at the hospital, it was mid-morning and there was finally news. Max was still alive, but barely. There was nothing stable about his condition, nothing was guaranteed. Yet, there was nothing they could do but wait. And, after hours upon hours of praying rosaries and chaplets and novenas and anything else she could think of, Rena went home in the late afternoon to help in a more practical way. The doctor mentioned that they discovered a note indicating that he had been injected with ricin and asked whether they lived on or near a castor farm. That was enough information for her to use to begin searching for what exactly had happened to Max. Or rather, why.

“I need your help,” Rena said, showing up at Alex’s door. “Judging by the crime scene tape all over the property, you definitely know by now that something happened to Max last night. I need you to help me figure out what.”

She let herself in, placing her laptop on Max’s bed. She sat down and started searching for local castor plant fields, a process that took hours. They spoke some, but in similar fashion to the other moments they had shared, completely avoided the topic of what happened between them. It was as if it never happened, it was as if they were once again acquaintances, ones who didn’t need alcohol to embrace the feelings they had for one another. Yet, she wasn’t nervous, she didn’t avoid him. She was too tired to avoid him. By mid-evening, they found three fields within an hour of the farm, and before he could chase after her, she was already out the door, on her way to investigate. “I need to do this alone,” she insisted, “what’s the worst that could happen?”

Famous last words. Rena had been locked in a cell in an abandoned barn for what could have been days, or even weeks. All she knew was that it was pitch black. She couldn’t tell day from night, one hour from the next. She was completely and utterly helpless, now rendered completely unable to help Max. She didn’t even know if he was still alive. In the beginning, she liked to think that he was, but as time went on and all hope of being rescued was lost, she found it easier to think he had died. Maybe it was because she expected to join him shortly thereafter. Maybe it was because if he was already dead, anything she could have done to help would have been a mute point anyway.

By what she assumed was the fourth or fifth day, Rena had lost all hope. Everything she knew was a lie. The truth had set in, the truth about everything. Some amount of time before, what she imagined to be a day or two, she heard familiar footsteps squeaking on the floorboards above. Viktor’s. She was used to the sound of the other man’s, the man who had kidnapped her or the person guarding her or whoever it was. Someone she knew, she imagined, because all they fed her were those wretched dining hall eggs. They tasted even worse when they came with the knowledge that her kidnapping was personal. Max’s murder was personal.

For the first ten or twenty minutes of his being there, Rena screamed and screamed for him, begging for his help. She wanted to be rescued, finally, to get answers. But, as time went on, his silence became deafening. She could barely make out the conversation he was having with the other man, a voice she didn’t recognize. He wasn’t here for her, this wasn’t a rescue mission. Viktor had some part in the attempted murder of his brother, he was affiliated with these people. He had been bringing the eggs. He had been the one to warn them that Rena was coming.

The next few days, if they were even days, were spent in hopelessness. In despair. In numbness. She stopped eating the eggs, it was easier to starve. She just wanted to die, nothing mattered anymore. She came up with a plan that would end the suffering either way, no matter how reckless it was. Then, she executed it.

The next time Viktor came was the first day of rain she had experienced since she had been in the barn. In a sick way, she wondered if she’d been in here so long it became April. She remembered the American saying, ‘April showers bring May flowers’ and recalled that it had been late March when she’d last had access to a calendar. To anything, really. All she had in the cell with her was a shabby wool blanket they’d thrown down early on, to prevent her from getting cold, she presumed. It didn’t--she shivered herself to sleep every night, on the nights she got sleep. Yet, they hadn’t touched her. It seemed like she was just there to be prevented from meddling, from being a hero. She almost would have rather been hurt by them, it would have given her captivity some meaning. All she’d done was bruise herself up--badly, thanks to her blood disorder--trying to break through the walls, trying to escape. She’d given up as of late, but the bruises remained a terrible reminder of the battle she’d fought from within this prison. She was almost terrified to be released, for she knew she looked much worse than what had happened to her. It was dramatic in its own right. Yet, she would have to face the world sooner or later, whether on a stretcher or in a casket was yet to be decided.

The rain leaked through the floorboards, soaking Rena thoroughly and making her shiver. Her limbs were numb, which only complicated the plan. Still, after an extremely painful twenty minutes, she’d managed to slice her wrist with the fork they gave her for the eggs to the point where it gushed blood. “Viktor,” she cried, her voice hoarse from the silence of her time in captivity. It felt foreign to hear herself speak again, as if she were separated from her body. “I’m bleeding, you know I’ll die if you don’t get me to a hospital.” Silence. Then, quiet words mumbled between the pair. Some sort of agreement that involved Max. The floorboards opened, revealing the whitest light she’d ever seen, blinding her. Was that what daylight looked like? She covered her eyes with the hand that wasn’t gushing with blood, feeling Viktor help lift her out. It wasn’t as deep of a cell as she had initially thought, quite shallow and barely enough room for her to move around. Since she had been sustaining herself on one daily plate of eggs that she’d eventually gave up eating, she wasn’t strong enough to walk, not that Viktor seemed willing to let her try anyway. He lifted her up and carried her to the car, driving as fast as he could through the little pathway in the field onto the main roads towards the hospital.

“Rena, stay with me, okay? I need you to listen to me.” By this point, she was very pale, most of the vitality she had left consumed by the precious moments the two men had spent bickering about what needed to be done.

“I don’t want to hear what you have to say,” she muttered weakly, her voice trailing off in little mumbles. “Why did you let him do that to Max, to me?”

“Max was caught up in some shady business in Romania, it followed him here. In order to try and get him out of it, I got caught up in it too. It was never supposed to go down like this, though. I didn’t know they were going to kill him, I didn’t know they were going to kidnap you.”

“I don’t know who to trust anymore.” She slumped against the side of the car, blood covering her torn clothing. “You led me to discover him that night. You called 9-1-1 first.”

“I didn’t know they wanted him dead, I wanted to save his life. I needed someone other than myself to call it in so that they wouldn’t come after me next. But, I caved. Max’s life is more important than anything else.” He paused, then glanced at her in an emotional way she didn’t understand. “Katarena, I need you to listen to me. I love you so much, remember that. Don’t remember this, remember the good parts, okay? I know you love me too, there’s nothing left unsaid between us. I’m going to pull up to the hospital and I need you to be strong for me, one last time. Make your way through those doors so you can get help. Everything is going to be okay.”

“Whatever you’re going to do,” she mumbled faintly, “don’t. Please. I...need...you.”

A little while later, a frantic knock sounded on his and Reggie’s door. When the man opened the door, he spoke hurriedly, full of adrenaline and a fear that if he slowed down, he wouldn’t be able to follow through with his plan. Rena’s words were already swimming around his head, making him feel like he had a choice in the matter. He knew it wasn’t true, but he wanted it to be. And if he let it marinate long enough, he would think that if he wanted anything badly enough, it could be true. He had to do what he had to do to keep his family safe, Rena included.

“Reggie, no time. There’s a box under my bed, I need you to distribute the letters inside to the people they’re addressed to. Thank you.”

Turning down the corridor, he knocked on Alex’s door. He almost felt guilt for what he would be putting on this man’s shoulders, or maybe it was doubt because he wasn’t sure anyone could love Rena the way that he had for all those years. He had been her confidant, counselor, best friend, and everything else since about the time they could talk. He didn’t know if anyone could fill those shoes. “They found Rena,” he said hastily, “she’s at the hospital. You should go see her, she’s going to need you.” His English, for once, was well rehearsed and clear. He had practiced everything he was going to say for several days. Even if she hadn’t stabbed herself, he was working on a plan to get her out. He’d been preparing for this. Then, more stoically, he added, “take care of her, okay? Don’t let her go.”

A little while later, Rena awoke in the hospital. She’d stumbled just to the inside of the automatic doors before she’d gone crashing into the floor, hitting her head and gaining a mild concussion to go with her blood loss. “Sofia? Katya?” She studied their faces weakly, her eyes fluttering open and shut as she adjusted to her new surroundings. She was still very, very confused, everything felt like a blur. “You’re both crying, what happened?” She thought about it for a moment, then the truth hit her like a ton of bricks. “He’s dead, isn’t he? Viktor?”

“He crashed his car into the side of a barn,” Katya said coldly, though tears still remained in her eyes. She was so...medical...sometimes. Sofia was a mess of tears and emotion, unable to hold herself together. Rena would always see her as a little girl, though she was only a few years younger. She knew this would turn her into a woman, if the world hadn’t already. It’d been a long time since the two girls had seen one another. “The police said there was blood at the scene that wasn’t his, he must have been trying to protect himself.”

She fought the burning sensation in her throat that was due to more than just her living situation for the past while, urging herself to stay strong. Someone had to be the strong one, someone had to ‘win’ grief. She could sort the emotions out later, once she was the person she needed to be for everyone else. “He wasn’t protecting himself,” she said softly, “he was protecting us.”

She was covered in bruises still, more of her skin blues and yellows and purples and greens than its actual tan pigment. She almost felt ashamed of herself, of the emotional toll she knew her appearance would take on everyone she encountered. According to the girls, Viktor had kept her disappearance private, mentioning that he saw her every so often to anyone who asked, keeping Hugo fit for her, and so on. Only Alex knew, other than Viktor, about the fact that Rena had gone missing. Yet, he knew so little at that. Still, despite her absolutely gruesome appearance, she was much better than could be expected. In a matter of hours, once her blood transfusions and the police questioning had concluded, the doctors were prepared to send her home. Except, she had no idea where home was anymore. The idea of living her life from this point forward was a concept her mind had not and would not fully grasp. For so long, all she could think about was how it would end. She hadn't seen a future beyond that musty, damp cell.

Viktor’s Letter to Alex

Alex,

I hope this message finds you well. I had to use Google Translate to write this, so I hope it makes sense to you. By the time you read this, I'll be gone and my family will be safe again, including Rena. She was my best friend from before we could talk to the end, we went through it all together. She's not going to take this well and you'll know that if she seems to be taking it amazingly. She is terrified of imperfection, of vulnerability, of not being the right person for exactly every scenario and she will postpone my grief until she feels that everyone else is cared for and stable, which could take months to years. If it's something like when her brother died, she'll put on the perfect picture of power and make sure everyone else is okay, even if she breaks inside. When she can't do it, she'll pretend to do errands, find the nearest Catholic church, and cry her eyes until she puts her mask back on. I know how specific she is, Rena is a very specific person, take her from someone who has been with her for every moment of her life. She will obsess over the five stages of the pain, she will hurry through them and she will tell everyone that she is further in the process than she is. Then one day, when everything starts to feel good again, she will break. Rena feels emotions at a level that I can't understand either, but only when she can afford it. When she breaks, it will break every piece of her until it numbs. You won't know it's happening unless she has enough confidence in you to let you in, which I hope will. I'm afraid it won't be. She can't let herself show people her pain, I never understood her, but she walks in horror at what would happen if she were left vulnerable. Then she will talk about me constantly. This is the first sign of hope. Once she stops obsessing over me in the last phase, she will stop talking about me. Eventually, she will stop thinking about me. I tell you all this because I know how much she loves you. She told me in depth her feelings for you. I don't know how you feel about her, nor am I sure she will, but I hope you will stand by her in my absence if you feel a fraction of what she feels for you. Don't give up on her, don't let her convince you that this is the best option. Be persistent and always love her. You're all that's left now. Hold her tight and don't let her go, for me.

Viktor

Viktor’s Letter to Reggie

Reggie,

I hope this message finds you well. I had to use Google Translate to write this, so I hope it makes sense to you. It wasn't a greater joy for me than meeting you recently. I liked all the time we spent together, I was very happy. I am sorry that our time together must end so soon, I hope you understand that what I have done is to protect my family. I couldn't live with myself if something happened to them, so I did everything I could to make sure nothing happened. In my absence, I need you to take care of Rena, but especially Max. He never knew a breath without me in his life, we were everything to each other. He fights so hard for his life, then he will have to fight every day of his life to walk without his other half. I can't imagine what I'm asking him to do, I couldn't live a day without him. He may be arrogant, manipulative and calculated, but he is my brother and I need you to love him as if he were yours. He never lost anyone, not even grandparents, so I can't imagine what that will be like for him. Help him reunite with Rena, her friendship and experience with loss will be crucial to his healing. I'm afraid that if their friendship doesn't heal, Max will never heal again. Do not let him dwell in it, do not let him remain in pain forever. He will use his pain as a weapon and try to hurt people, he will want to make others suffer as he suffers. Don't let anyone fool you, he is incapable of being alone, no matter how much he pushes people. Help him forgive me for what I do to save him. As for Rena, she will try to fool everyone, believing she is invincible. She feels things deeper than anyone knows. I asked Alex to protect her, but, like Maximilian, I beg you to love Rena as I loved her. Let them cry over me if they have to, but don't let them stay there. Promise me they won't suffer forever. Tell them that you care as much as you can about them, that there is hope for the future. Until we meet again in heaven, my friend.

Viktor

Rena | Alex, Katya, Sofia

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,” she smiled softly, holding the younger girl tightly while she cried. “It’s not okay, but it’s going to be, Sofia. And until it is, we can sit here and talk about him or we can talk about anything but or we can sit in total silence. I’m here for you, I’m strong, I will protect you and take as much of your pain as I can, okay? I’ve got you, I’m here.”

Katya sat on the other side of Sofia, a distant, lost expression on her face. She looked overwhelmed, exhausted, any one of the emotions bogging her mind down and preventing her from making rational decisions. Rena’s ability to turn her emotions off in such an extreme way was something Katya had envied for years. Then again, she hadn’t had nearly as much loss as the younger woman. She wondered if it was a skill that was honed with practice, with years of crippling emotional pain, or if it was simply something some people were born able to do. Either way, Rena seemed to be handling this so well, she was comforting Sofia so well, she was doing everything well. It was both a relief and a stressor for the eldest sister. If she was as incompetent in this situation as she felt, why was she here? Why not just fly back across the country to finish her residency in Portland? At least she could be saving lives instead of sitting in a chair wondering why her dead brother’s best friend and her dying brother’s ex-girlfriend was so much better at grieving than she was.

Sofia was still buried into Rena’s crippled frame, so she didn’t notice the tall, brooding figure looming in the doorway. Katya did, though, and she watched the way his eyes edged around Rena’s figure but couldn’t directly take in the sight of her condition. Even for only eleven days of hell, Rena looked horrific. Her blood disorder had always made her swell up and bruise everywhere, but this was the worst Katya had seen her in a very long time--since her bad car accident, she recalled. The girl was still grieving and had reached the point where all she felt was apathy. Her carelessness had nearly gotten her killed and landed her in the hospital for weeks. The bruising and the small wounds she’d accrued were similar to that, but she was gaunt, gray, and she’d dropped ten to twenty pounds in that short period. She wasn’t a skeleton, but she was closer to one than she was to the Rena Katya had last seen in Romania last holiday season. She was disturbing to look at, even the medical professional of the trio could admit.

“Who are you?” She asked coldly, unwilling to put on any pleasantries for the stranger. It was what it was, and it was the way it was. She wasn’t obligated to sugarcoat anything. Rena glanced up from her position comforting Sofia, a glazed-over look in her eye as she studied him. She hadn’t expected to see him so soon, she was hoping to get in a shower and a change of clothes first, maybe some makeup to return the color to her skin. Still, she offered him the slightest, most forced smile.

“Alex.” Her gaze floated over him softly, not stopping anywhere for too long. He looked the way she felt. Not so banged up, but just plain rough. His hair was longer than he usually kept it, messy and disheveled. He looked like he had skipped some meals too, and he hadn’t slept in at least a week. His clothes were wrinkled and the look on his face was equally the most unreadable and the most obvious thing she’d witnessed all day. He looked like he’d seen a ghost, but he was trying not to show it. She started looking around for her things, though she’d come in with nothing. Sofia brought her a pair of clothes from her dorm that she never would have paired together in her life, which she was still yet to change into. “Katya, where’s my cane? I’m ready to go back to the farm.” The word home felt too foreign, too bitter. “You can stay with Max, I’ll take Sofia back with me. I need a driver,” she smiled softly at the girl, who’d pulled it together just slightly in the company of a stranger. She was a carbon copy of any of the other Petrovas, but especially Viktor. Rena forced herself not to think about it, with the switch flipped and her emotions off for the foreseeable future.

“I’ll go get the paperwork started,” Katya said softly. “Sofia, come with.”

After the two girls had brushed past Alex on their way out of the room, Rena looked out behind them, ensuring they were gone before she spoke. “Viktor’s dead, if you haven’t heard. From what I hear, Max is still fighting for his life? Still up in ICU? And what about you? How have you been?” The tone of her voice was even, way too even. The smile was forced, her eyes gave her away. Everything behind them was blank, distant, detached. “I’m sorry for any turbulence I added to your life in the last two weeks.” It was said with this uncertainty, this skepticism that terrified her. How had he taken her disappearance? How much had it affected him? He looked bad, but maybe it was unrelated. She’d convinced herself that he didn’t care, and it had all been in her head. After all, she’d been the one to make all the moves, hadn’t she? He’d let what happened between them happen out of pity. That conversion of thought had occupied her energy for the last seven or so days of captivity, and standing face-to-face with him left her confused about what the true truth was. Not that it mattered, she’d turned off her feelings until she decided she wanted to schedule feeling them again, and love, like grief, was just another word to a feeling she was currently quite far removed from.

[Drew] ohmygosh u have got to wake up

[Drew] right now this very instant.

[Drew] or else i might do something suspect

[Drew] yes :))))))))))))))))))))))))

[Drew] also kay went to bed :((( everyones leaving meee

I don’t think i could possibly love him more lol he’s so nice.

Willa / Wes / Nash / Sawyer | Su-Jin

Willa returned the attentive listening she had been offered, nodding and throwing in the occasional mumble of approval. He was such an active listener that he inspired her to mimic that active listening instead of her typical distracted listening, the other half of her brain fixated on a text conversation or the world around her rather than the person with her. This person with her was different, he was quirky in the most wholesome way. She wasn’t typically drawn to people but she wasn’t ready to tune Su-Jin out yet.

“Silas is a lovely name,” she mused, internally amused about his usage of the phrase ‘nicky names’ but unwilling to show it in any way other than the slightest smile. “And what would be some of these nicky names in question?”

As they paused at the intersection of this bustling stretch of farm, Willa stepped off the path in order to let the little swarms of people past. Everyone here was so fascinating, they all milled about like little ants on a mission to serve their purpose. She thought about what it might be like to see the farm from a plane and how different it could actually be from watching the organized chaos of an anthill. The thought made her smile, but her smile caused her to jolt back into reality from her lackadaisical daydreaming. Her expression went neutral as she studied the buildings again, this time with purpose.

“Reckon there’s only one way to find out.”

The pair approached one of the buildings, and though Willa wanted to just peek in the window and avoid being seen, she forced herself to open the door. They found the place completely empty, other than some shelving units and other furniture carelessly strewn about. The girl’s phone vibrated in her pocket. Once, twice, three times. Realizing it was a phonecall, she picked it up. “This better be good, Ron.”

“I’m watching you,” he giggled a childish, fake giggle, just to get on her nerves. She heard Sawyer in the background. “It’s the building all the way at the end of the path.” That was the difference between Nash and Sawyer. Sawyer would keep a joke running for way longer than it deserved to, if only for his own entertainment. He was stubborn, he held grudges, he was much more childish. Nash cared too much about people to get them riled up for the sake of a joke. He was deeply conscientious and benevolent at heart, the voice in his head was too moral to indulge in the kinds of pranks and tricks Sawyer did. Then there was Willa. She wasn’t exactly sure where she fit in, somewhere in the middle. She didn’t know exactly who she was other than the younger sister of the two of them. A daughter. A cowgirl. A horsewoman.

“He said it’s the one all the way at the end.” After a few moments, she added, “so what discipline do you ride, anyway? Do you have horses of your own?”

Arriving at the actual office, Willa and Silas were met by several people. There was a woman behind the desk with straight, dark hair and professional clothing that could not have been mistaken for anything other than a staff member. The nameplate on her desk said Lara Ross and several diplomas displayed proudly on the wall behind her indicated her status as a lawyer, or a paralegal, or something of the sort. Willa wasn’t entirely sure what the difference was, and she didn’t really care. Then, there was a teenaged boy sitting in a chair beside Lara’s desk. She wasn’t entirely sure if the boy was there to be babysat or for an actual logistical need pertaining to horses, nor did she care. Finally, she saw her brothers. They were sitting talking to a stringy, dark-haired guy that looked vaguely familiar. It wasn’t a shocking feeling, the Brooks family had a lot of contacts. Willa had met a lot of people once, most of them when she was too young to really remember. People never really wanted to say more than a few words to her anyway, so it hardly mattered.

“Sarah, took you long enough. I’m two cups of coffee in by now, and a lovely conversation with my new friend Lara.”

“Acquaintance at best,” she replied sharply, without so much as a glance up from a document she was looking at.

“And our new friend…”

“Silas,” Willa replied to the older of her two brothers. The more annoying one by a long shot. She left out the part about his love for nicknames, and for good reason.

“Thanks for looking after our girl,” Nash smiled brightly at him. “I’m the other brother. I go by Nash or Ron, it don’t matter. Or anything else you can think up. A ‘hey you’ or a ‘that guy’ will suffice, too,” he winked benevolently, extending his hand for Su-Jin to shake. Then, turning to Willa, he gestured to Wes. “Willa, do you remember Paw’s friends the McAuliffes? This is one of their old cowhands, Wes.”

“Nice to meet you,” she replied faintly, offering the slightest smile. She stayed by her new friend’s side, feeling more secure with him than with her largely unpredictable siblings.

“Hey, we were just about to move our junk into the dorms, then we were headed down to the dining hall. Do any of y’all wanna join us for lunch?”