The road stretched on longer than it should have.
Cherie shifted in her saddle, her hands still a little stiff on the reins. The horse beneath her moved steady, but every step still felt unfamiliar. The quiet around them pressed in harder than anything else. No jokes. No back and forth. Just the sound of hooves hitting dirt and the wind brushing past.
It was wrong.
The way things had been earlier, with Saul and Jackson talking, laughing—it felt like something from a different life now. Like she had imagined it.
Her eyes drifted forward.
Saul was a few paces ahead, his back straight, his posture steady. He had not looked back once.
Cherie exhaled quietly, then nudged her horse forward.
It took a bit of effort, but she caught up, bringing her horse alongside his. For a second, neither of them spoke.
"So," she said finally, glancing at him, "you gonna give me the cold shoulder for the rest of this trip?"
Saul did not answer right away.
