Ch. 14: …you will get burned
She was still awake hours later when everything had fallen quiet. Walt lay beside her sleeping somewhat peacefully. Aside from some restlessness, he seemed to be having a dreamless sleep. Vic lay wide awake in the dark, her mind working overtime. Her brain was trying to fit pieces into place. She still wasn't convinced she hadn't heard someone behind her. But, that had taken a backseat to Tom's odd behavior.
During the time since they all became acquainted with him, he hadn't given her any reason to believe he wasn't who he seemed to be. He never crossed any lines and he never acted like there were motives that they weren't all privy to. Of course, it was a limited relationship. She and Walt knew him from the Red Pony. That was all. Still, he always seemed genuine. Real. And, he was a friend of Henry. That went a long way with Walt. She knew that.
Vic's train of thought was interrupted by a sound. A thump that came from downstairs. Any tiredness she felt vanished instantly as her adrenaline started to kick in. Vic sat up, her hand moving to Walt's arm. He was on his side, facing away from her. Vic shook it vigorously. She heard a low groan as he came awake slowly and groggily. Walt rolled to his back, a frown etched into his weathered features.
"Vic?"
The sound of her name came out gruff with sleep edged around it. Vic was already standing up and grabbing for clothes. Too much about this scenario seemed familiar. Sensing something amiss, Walt sat up and scrubbed his hand over his face.
"What's wrong?"
He was awake now, too. Vic pulled up her jeans and buttoned them, her eyes on the door.
"I heard something. Downstairs."
While Walt pulled on clothes, Vic snatched her Flyers hoodie over her head. It was the one thing she owned that seemed to be surviving all the upheaval in their lives. Shoving her feet into her boots, Vic grabbed her holster and pulled out the Glock. Walt joined her and another thud reached their ears.
Walt's was wrapped around the grip of the newer Colt he had bought. For a moment, Vic wished for the familiarity of his older Colt that seemed like an extension of his body. She pulled the door open and met his eyes as he stepped in front of the door and looked out into the hall. It was dark and appeared to be empty. Whoever it was still must have been downstairs.
Slowly and step by step, they walked down the hall. Walt took the lead and Vic was just behind his shoulder. He stopped at the top of the steps and her arm brushed his she was so close to him. Walt cocked his head and listened. Now, it was quiet. He glanced towards Vic, who nodded. The slow trek down the stairs began. One step at a time, pause, another step.
Despite their attempts to be as quiet as possible, the wooden steps creaked under their weight. It seemed like it took forever to make the short trip down the staircase. At the foot of the stairs, they stopped again, at the same moment. Vic came around Walt and pressed herself against the opposite wall. Together, they began to move again. Vic could hear her heart thumping in her ears. It seemed like Walt should be able to hear it as loud as felt to her. She met his eyes. He looked tense, but calm enough. Years of training were clearly at work. His hands were steady and his movements sure, thought out.
They began to move towards the bar, clearing the way as they went. The going was slow. But, this was a scenario they knew well. It was a task the two of them had nearly perfected over their time working together. They heard more movement. Walt turned his head and leaned, his height giving him an advantage.
For the first time since they left the confines of the apartment, he spoke. It was so low, Vic had to strain to hear him.
"Light's on."
Vic frowned. Who broke into a place and turned on the lights. Walt gestured for her to move again they worked their way towards the bar room. They had almost reached the entrance when a shadow passed over the saloon doors. The figure stopped and they both heard the sound of boots scuffling over the wood floor.
"Walt?"
Vic let out a breath as the familiar voice reached her ears. She lowered the gun in her hand and tried to keep her hands steady. Walt lowered his own gun as the situation unraveled itself and they all stepped into the light.
"Henry."
It was clear to Henry what was happening. His eyes took in the two of them and his brain processed the information quickly.
"I am sorry. I did not mean to scare you."
Vic blew another breath out as they crossed the bar and she lay her Glock on the bar. Walt followed her, setting his gun alongside hers. Henry looked apologetic.
"I should have called you."
Walt shook his head.
"It's the middle of the night."
It was both comment and question. Henry smiled.
"I know. There were some things I needed to see to. I just left the casino and came here. Do you want a drink?"
Vic took a seat on a stool.
"Hell, yes. My nerves are shot to shit now."
Henry nodded and moved behind the bar.
"Beer?"
Vic gave her had a shake.
"Mmm…whiskey after all that."
Walt smiled and lowered his large frame onto the stool beside her.
"I'll have one."
Henry produced two shot glasses and a bottle of whiskey. He poured them each a glass and set the bottle aside. Vic lifted her glass and downed it in one swallow. Henry eyed her with amusement.
"More."
She shook her head and set the glass down.
"No, thanks. I'm good."
The alcohol warmed her throat. Her body was finally starting to get back to normal. Walt drank his and pushed the glass away. Henry shifted his eyes between the two of them.
"Has something happened?"
Walt shook his head.
"No. Just jumpy I guess."
Walt rubbed his face again. Henry studied his oldest friend.
"Go back to bed."
Walt grunted as he stood up. Vic stayed where she was on her stool. Walt cast her a questioning look.
"You coming?"
She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring look.
"I'll be up in a few minutes."
He hesitated and then nodded. Taking his gun, he wordlessly left her alone with Henry. She turned back to find Henry watching her with a practiced eye.
"You are not sleeping?"
Vic leaned on the bar.
"What makes you say that?"
He smiled and looked at the spot Walt had just vacated before returning his eyes to Vic. Something in them gave her a measure of comfort. Henry was familiar. Safe. With all the unease and distrust swirling around them, Henry was someone they could rely on. Unquestionably.
"Walt was sleepy, clearly just woke up. You seem wide awake."
Vic sighed and nodded, giving in to his gentle questions.
"I'm not sleeping. You're right."
Henry came around the bar and took a seat next to her.
"Would you like to talk about it?"
Vic shrugged and rubbed one hand over her jeans.
"You seem busy."
Henry shook his head.
"I have time if you have time."
He had her there. She had nowhere to be, nothing to do.
"It's just all this…you know. Feeling like we have to watch our every move. All this…damn paranoia. I just…we can't even relax. It's…exhausting."
"I understand. Is that what's keeping you up?"
"Partially?"
"Only partially? You're worried."
"I am worried. I'm worried about Walt."
Vic rubbed her face with a sigh.
"He is worried about you."
She smiled.
"I know."
Her hand dropped from her face and fell into her lap. Henry followed the arc with his eyes. Once her hand came to rest on her leg, he reached out and touched the ring she wore.
"This…was a big step for him."
"I know."
Her voice sounded heavy with emotion. She looked down at her hand.
"It was a big step for me, too."
Henry's face softened.
"Once he commits to something, he will see it through. You know that. He will keep you safe."
A half smile floated across her features, disappearing before it could take a hold.
"At what cost?"
Henry grew somber.
"For Walt, there is no cost too high."
Vic nodded slowly.
"That's what scares me."
They sat in silence for a moment. Finally, Vic cleared her throat and stood up.
"I should go."
Henry watched her pick up her Glock and take a few steps away.
"Get some sleep."
She kept walking, but turned so that she was walking backwards and flashed him a smile.
"I'll try."
Vic turned back around and was just to the saloon doors when Henry spoke again.
"Vic, watch your back."
Vic turned to look at him, the words echoing through her head. Nodding, she left the bar.
xxx
"What do you think?"
Vic shrugged.
"It's okay."
Walt waited.
Just okay?"
Another shrug.
"It's…a house."
Walt looked around.
"I can see that. Do you like it?"
In truth, she didn't feel invested. At this point, nothing was going to feel right. She knew Walt felt the same way. She could tell. But, he was trying. For her sake, no doubt. It was the third house they looked at, this one no different than the first two. The only differences were minor. Layout. Finishes. All three reminded her a little of the house she once shared with Sean.
"Vic?"
She looked his way to find him watching her.
"I like the second one better. But…any are okay."
Okay. That was as good as it was going to get. But, it was just a rental. A temporary solution. That was what she kept telling herself. What they both kept saying.
"The one we looked at this morning."
"Yeah."
Walt nodded.
"Okay. We can take care of the paperwork today."
Vic stuffed her hands into her pockets as they walked outside. The street around them was quiet. Vic slid into the passenger seat of the Bronco and pulled her seatbelt across her, buckling it with a click. Walt glanced at her.
"You sure."
Vic gave him a smile.
"Yeah. Let's just get it over with."
In a strange twist of irony, she was the one who pushed early for progress. A place to live. To carry on. But, now Walt was shouldering that burden as Vic started to feel more and more detached from the process. Maybe being strong for him in the first days slowed down her own emotions. Maybe, they were just now bubbling to the surface. She couldn't really say. Only that this all felt like a bad dream she couldn't wake up from.
"Vic?"
Her eyes snapped to his.
"Yeah?"
Walt was clearly concerned now.
"I asked if you wanted to get some dinner?"
"Oh…yeah."
Walt started the Bronco and rolled onto the residential street.
"Red Pony."
Vic made a face.
"Let's…do something different."
Walt frowned.
"Different."
Vic's eyes drifted to the window
"Yes. All we have done is sit in that small ass apartment and go downstairs to eat. I've been to the office twice. Other than that…nothing. It's driving me crazy slowly."
It wasn't just the lack of mobility. Or the feeling that they had to be on constant watch. It was also the fact that she felt stifled. Not free to do what she wanted. Go where she chose. For the sake of safety, she kept close to Walt. He did the same. Without work, there was no break in the monotony. No variation to their days.
There was also the odd moment with Tom at the bar. A moment she still hadn't mentioned to Walt. He was worried enough as it was. Vic had no desire to add to his burden. It felt like everything was closing in. She would almost rather face off with Cain and get it over with.
She could see him chewing over her words. Vic turned back to the window. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.
"Let's pick up something and go to the cabin."
The words slipped from her mouth and Walt cast a quick look at her.
"The cabin?"
"You know what I mean."
He did.
"There's no where to eat out there."
Vic shrugged.
"We can open up the back and eat there."
Walt gave her another odd look before his eyes moved back to the road.
"It's cold."
She didn't seem to care. As much as she complained about that very fact, that was the farthest thing from Vic's mind.
"I can't spend another day sitting in that apartment or at the bar. Not today. I just…I need a break."
He heard her.
xxx
"I almost wish he would…do something. Show himself."
Walt looked up from his sandwich.
"Cain?"
Vic nodded and stretched out her legs, letting them hand over the back of the Bronco, her boots scraping the ground.
"Yep."
Walt took a swallow from his water bottle and looked across the landscape.
"That's a dangerous wish."
Vic nodded, her eyes distant.
"I know. But, it feels like we're in a holding pattern. We can't move forward. Not really. Not until this is resolved."
She sounded resigned.
"We are moving forward, Vic. As much as we can."
She half smiled.
"Then why does it feel like we're stuck."
He had no answer for the simple truth.
"Once we get in the house, it'll get better."
He didn't sound anymore convinced that she did. Vic crumpled up her napkin and balled it up in one first.
"I know you're doing this for my benefit. I'm sorry that I'm not more appreciative."
Again, it was the truth. He was pushing forward in an attempt to help her. Help them. Whichever. Vic's complaints that he shut down directly after the fire were true. He was aware of that. He didn't want to backslide into the habit again. He was doing the best he could to live up to the things he told her. The very ideas he struggled with.
"I don't expect appreciation."
Vic smiled ruefully.
"Still."
Vic tossed her trash into the cargo space of the Bronco and then hefted herself out, her boots hitting the ground firmly. Walt wiped his hands off on his jeans and followed her. Vic crossed the yard to the spot where the cabin once stood.
True to his word, Walt had the space cleared. Instead of charred ruins and burnt remains, there was now only empty space covered with a fresh coat of snow. Only a few pieces of wood remained, the ground scraped clean.
Vic's eyes scanned the empty space. Walt stepped in closer. In the late afternoon sunlight, her eyes looked impossibly bronze.
"I've never seen a house built from the ground up."
Walt glanced her way.
"Are you volunteering to help?"
It was an attempt at levity. Vic smiled somewhat vaguely, almost like it was a memory making her smile and not the present.
"Not sure how much help I would be. But…I'm always willing."
The idea appealed to him. Vic helping him build the new place. That was what he told himself. What he pushed to the back of his mind was the thought that all of this might be for nothing. That he wouldn't live to see the place even get started. He tried to keep the darkness at bay. But, it was becoming increasingly more difficult. Cain had been quiet. But, they all knew this wasn't over.
Not by a long shot.
He didn't like making plans he wasn't going to keep.
Still, he knew that she needed this. She wouldn't come right out and tell him that. She hadn't asked for anything other than for him to talk to her and to hear her. He did that. The struggle was putting one foot in front of the other on this line that they were being forced to walk.
On one side, there was day to day living. Things that needed to be taken care of. The horse. Finding somewhere decent to live. Meals. Going to bed and waking up. It was oddly mundane considering. On the other side, there was the constant threat that Cain would sweep back into their lives and wreak more havoc. Create more destruction.
It was all too reminiscent of the past for Walt. This was a road he had traveled before. They both had. He had hoped that was all behind them. The sadness and the constant threat of something bad happening to one or both of them. He and Vic had worked so hard to leave that behind. To learn from the lessons of the past and move on to build something resembling a normal life.
That was the intent behind his retirement. To give up the ever present risk that came with his job. To allow his mind and his body to recover from wave after wave of trauma. To alleviate some of the worries he knew still haunted Vic, even if she didn't come right out and say it.
Now, he wondered if all of it had been for nothing.
xxx
Will Cain ran his hand over the door of the dark colored truck. To say it was new was laughable. But, it was new to him. The old one had been a decent vehicle. He couldn't complain too much. That said, it made movement around Durant difficult. Everyone knew his old truck. Everyone was looking for his old truck.
He preferred his more familiar vehicle. But, desperate times and all that. The only reason he made it this far was because he was adaptable. A chameleon who was willing to change himself as needed in order to accomplish a goal. He considered himself a survivor. This latest move proved that theory in his mind.
Getting the old man to trade vehicles with him had taken some talking. A lot of talking, really. Will really had no money with which to sweeten the deal. Instead, he offered up his still running truck and offered to do some odd jobs around the old man's property. It was the exact type of grizzled old guy he needed. And it took him some time to find a target. Someone who lived in a remote part of the area and didn't seem to be up on current events. Based on the swapping of stories, the gray bearded old man with a wad of tobacco in his cheek had little use for the police. That was helpful.
His next step was paying a visit to a small drugstore and purchasing shaving razors and some hair color. In the sad bathroom of his most recent abode, an abandoned house, he carefully shaved using water he collected as snow and heated up to melt. The process was slow without good shaving tools and actual lighting. When he was done, he was clean shaven and his hair was a few shades lighter. It wasn't a huge difference. But, along with the different car, it would make him less recognizable he figured.
At least for a while.
But, a while was all he needed. This situation would be coming to a head soon if he had anything to say about it. They were on guard. Both of them. If he had been hoping his absence for a few days would create a life threatening relaxation in them, he would have been wrong. But, he didn't expect that. He might not have more than a high school education and a degree from the college of hard knocks, but he wasn't stupid by any stretch. Many a man, and a few women, made that assumption about him. They paid a price.
He sat across from the Red Pony watching the place again. They didn't come and go very much. When they did, they were frequently together. Any hopes of catching her alone were proving to be dashed. Walt wasn't a stupid man either. He knew what he had in Victoria Moretti and he was closing ranks around her. Keeping her with him as much as possible. On the odd moment, he did see her come out alone, he could see the holster on her hip and the gun it carried. She certainly wasn't being shy about it.
That was message. It was meant for him. It was message that brought a smile to his face. She didn't disappoint him. That made her unlike most of the women he knew in his life. This one was different. She was proving to be a challenge. They both were.
But, there was always a way.
xxx
"Did you find a house?"
Walt looked at Cady over the small table in the Busy Bee.
"We did."
Cady bit off half of a fry while she waited for her father to elaborate. When he didn't, she raised her eyes from her plate and gave him a look that he would be familiar with.
"And?"
Walt used his fork to push about the half-eaten hamburger steak on his plate. The "usual" of the day according to Dorothy.
"It's on Deer Creek."
She nodded slowly, still waiting for information that wasn't coming from him.
"Do you like it?"
He made a non-committal sound and shrugged. Cady laughed.
"Don't sound so excited."
He let the fork land on the plate with a clatter of meal on glass.
"It's temporary. Like didn't seem to matter."
Cady grew serious and frowned.
"Dad, is everything okay?"
His face softened at his daughter's clear concern.
"It's fine, Punk. It's just…after the cabin…a house in town isn't going to feel like home no matter how nice it is. This was the best of the lot."
"When can you move in?"
Walt picked up his fork and was eating again, taking a swallow of his iced tea before answering.
"Next week."
Cady picked up another fry and held it over her plate.
"How's Vic?"
"Okay."
Another short answer that really wasn't an answer.
"I'll call her later. See if she wants to have drinks again."
Walt smiled at the offer, but it didn't seem any more than skin deep.
"She would like that."
Cady finished off her last fry and wiped the grease off her hands with her thin, paper napkin. Once she was done, she tossed it onto her mostly empty plate.
"Guess this isn't how you pictured starting married life."
It wasn't intended to be a deep observation. Just an offhand comment. Conversation. But, something flashed across his face. Cady's head tilted ever so slightly to the side and her blue eyes took in her father.
"What is it?"
He shook his head, clearly not wanting to get into anything too serious.
"Nothing."
Cady swallowed and leaned in like they were sharing a secret.
"Don't give me nothing, dad. Things between you and Vic…are they okay?"
"Yes."
He answered sharply than he intended and his expression immediately turned apologetic. He softened his tone and lowered his voice.
"I told you before that we're okay."
Cady regarded him with the eye of someone who knew his tricks.
"Yeah, but we all know you're not much on conversation."
She was quiet for a moment, clearly thinking before she spoke again.
"Can I ask you something?"
Walt looked like he wanted to say no.
"What's that?"
"Did you decide to get married because all of this was happening?"
Walt studied his daughter, his face settling into a calm neutrality.
"Are you questioning my feelings?"
Cady shook her head.
"Not at all. But, the timing…"
Her words faded out and she let the comment speak for itself. Walt leaned back in his chair and she could see that he wasn't giving out easy answers today. He was in classic Walt Longmire mode. As little information as possible.
"Cady, I married Vic because I love her. I wouldn't…have done it otherwise."
His tone made it clear that was all he was going to say about that particular topic. He lifted his arm and looked at his watch.
"You should be getting back to work."
Just like that, it was over. Cady nodded, knowing he was shutting down. Trying to extract anything else from him would be akin to beating yourself against a brick wall. You would only wind up with a headache and have nothing to show for it.
Walt stood up in sync with Cady lifting his hat and offering his daughter a smile as they left the café. He paused on the sidewalk and she turned to him.
"I'll see you later."
Cady nodded with a smile of her own.
"Sure. Be careful."
He dipped his head in a half nod as he set his hat on it and pressed it down. Cady turned and started for the office. Walt turned and allowed his gaze to drift around the main strip through Durant. Downtown Durant if you could even call it that. Walt shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket as his eyes swept up to the sky.
The blue sky from the day before had been replaced with one that was cloudy, obscuring the sun and casting ominous looking shadows over the town. It seemed to reflect his mood. His life. He knew from listening to the weather report that morning that a storm was brewing. An unexpected, late winter storm that was gathering on the outskirts of the county and would begin moving in overnight.
Normally, such a prediction wouldn't bother him. It would be an inconvenience, but nothing he hadn't experienced dozens of times before. But, something in the air felt wrong. It would be easy to blame it on current events and the upheaval in their lives. But, Walt knew better than to write off a gut feeling. Too many times, his gut saved his life. He doubted it would fail him now.
Walt reached up and adjusted his hat. The breeze through town was picking up, the temperature dropping yet again to lows that hinged on dangerous. He lowered his face against the wind and headed for his Bronco.
There was definitely a storm brewing.
xxx
"We can't do this forever, you know."
Walt knew what she was talking about. But, he pretended not to. Vic lay stretched out on the bed, her knees drawn up and her feet planted flat on the mattress. One hand was behind her head, the other rested on her stomach.
"Do what?"
She rolled her eyes at him, lacking any real patience. He felt a tug of guilt. This life they were living affected him differently. Walt was content to sit with a book for hours. Or simply sit with his own thoughts. But, Vic was a creature of movement. She needed to be doing something. He knew she wanted to go to work. He knew she wanted to be anywhere but where she was currently.
Walt sat in a chair facing her. Her eyes were on the ceiling and he could see her thinking.
"Maybe we're going about this all wrong."
"Wrong?"
He saw her chest move with a deep breath and her head turned to face him.
"All this hiding and laying low bullshit. That's what it is. Bullshit."
Her frustrations were beginning to simmer over. It was expected. It didn't surprise him.
"You want me to stay alive. I want you to stay alive. This is the only way to do that."
She shook her head and turned her eyes back to the ceiling.
"We're doing exactly what I said we shouldn't do. He's…he's running our lives like we're fucking puppets."
Walt's face stayed calm in the face of her angry flare. He knew she wasn't mad at him. She was mad at Will Cain. She was mad at the world. But, not him. Walt knew better than to take it personally.
"This wasn't my original plan."
The comment came out sounding flat. Vic looked his way again.
"No. Your original plan was to go after him like you're in some western movie."
"It might've ended this sooner."
Her eyes stayed on him.
"With you dead. Yeah, there's a great ending."
The anger in her voice had subsided. It was like the tide these days. Sometimes low. Sometimes high. Purgatory was the word that came to mind. Walt decided to take a safer route and change the subject.
"There's a snowstorm coming in."
Her eyes were dull in the low light.
"One more thing to be super excited about."
Her tone was as unhappy as the look that crossed her face. Vic sighed and rolled onto her side to face him.
"Walt, we can't do this forever. Maybe you can. But, I can't."
Her words were somber now. Almost sad sounding. He didn't have a response. Not one she would've liked anyway.
"This isn't any way to live."
Silence draped over them like a heavy fog. Before Walt could reply or Vic could say more, her phone buzzed on the table beside her. She startled slightly at the sound. For a second, her eyes lingered on him. Then she sat up and grabbed the phone. As she dipped her head, her hair fell around her face. Reflexively, she tucked some behind her ear.
Walt stood up and walked over to the window. He hadn't expected Cain to be so patient. It wasn't a skill he remembered the man ever possessing. Maybe time changed him. Maybe he was that determined to get the upper hand.
He heard movement behind him and turned to see Vic on her feet. She lowered the phone and looked his way. Her entire demeanor had changed. Walt's eyes ran over her.
"What?"
Vic halfway raised her phone.
"That was Cady. I have to go in."
He felt an immediate rush of cold through his body.
"You're on leave."
Vic exhaled strongly.
"Yeah, well, Zach has a family emergency. Something about his mom. With this storm coming in, Cady and Ferg need help."
She started to move and the small apartment seemed incapable of containing her.
"Now?"
Walt couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice.
"By morning, this shit will have blown through and dumped two feet of fucking snow. Yes, now."
She was already changing. Walt crossed the floor to her.
"Vic, it's dangerous."
She paused with her uniform shirt on, but not buttoned.
"It's my job. You know that."
Her voice was quiet, but he could hear the edge to it
"Cady can call Cumberland and ask for backup."
Vic sighed and started to button up her shirt.
"Don't do this."
Walt stepped in closer.
"Don't do what? Care?"
Vic finished with her shirt and her hands dropped to her sides. She shrugged at him, her palms coming up.
"What do you want me do, Walt? Tell her no? Quit and leave the two of them to fend for themselves? Is that what you would do?"
They both knew the answer to that question. Vic started to tuck in her shirt. Her eyes drifted down as she adjusted her shirt and reached for her belt. Walt stood quietly as she threaded the belt through the loops on her jeans and buckled it. When she was done, she looked up.
"It's one night. It's too short notice for her to get help anywhere else. Tomorrow, we'll figure something out."
He hated to push her. Her options were limited. It was her job. Still, his worry spiked to a level he was finding difficult to manage. She was still standing in front of him waiting for some type of response. Walt exhaled softly.
"Be careful."
A hint of a smile appeared on her face, some of the stress leaving.
"I'm always careful."
He nodded slowly.
"Try not to go out by yourself."
She bit her lip, their eyes meeting.
"You know I can't promise you that."
Her voice was soft now.
"I know. Just try. Please."
The eye contact held for a few more seconds.
"Okay."
That was as good as it was going to get. Vic turned away from him and sat on the bed, grabbing her boots. Pulling them on, she stood and disappeared into the bathroom. The everyday sounds coming from through the doorway were lost as his mind began to reel through what all could go wrong.
Vic came from the bathroom, her hair now pulled back. She pulled on her duty jacket and paused.
"Cady asked me to work through the night. So…I won't see you until tomorrow. This storm…it caught a lot of people off guard and she's worried."
Walt nodded. He understood the aspects of Cady's job. And Vic's. It wasn't a new problem. No matter what was happening in your personal life, the job always mattered. You were either in or you were out. They were supposed to protect people. To help them. They were shepherds of a sort, watching over the town day and night, no matter the weather.
Still, that didn't quench the knot that was growing in his stomach by the minute. This was the kind of situation that Cain would feed off of. What he was waiting for. A chance to catch them off guard or distracted. It would be different if he were with her. If he were still Sheriff. But, he wasn't. And, neither she nor Cady would accept him just tagging along as a bodyguard. He had no legal authority.
"Please be careful. Watch your back."
Something ghosted across her face and a confused frown settled over her.
"You're the…third person to tell me that. I'll do my best. That's…that's all I can promise."
His own words echoed through his mind.
I don't like to make promises I can't keep.
In that second, he felt everything she must have felt when the fire first happened. When she was all but begging him not to react the way he wanted to so badly. The same sense of powerlessness would have filled her. Made her feel desperate. Another pang of guilt washed through him. It was always a different perspective when the tables were turned. When you were the one who felt like you were on the outside looking in.
She was watching him like she could sense what he was thinking. Reaching up, she grasped the front of his shirt and pulled him all the way to her. Walt's eyes dropped to hers. There was a spark in them he hadn't seen for days.
"You're assuming that Cain will have any mobility in this weather. If what the weather guys are saying is true, he won't be in any better shape than anyone else. He's…he's not superman. He's human just like the rest of us."
It wasn't like Vic to have to soothe his fears. It was a new role for them both. But, her voice was quiet and soft. The cadence was somewhat relaxed with a hint of confidence. If she didn't believe what she was telling him, she was doing a damn good job of faking it.
Still, he couldn't afford for her to let her guard down.
"I know. But, this is the kind of chance he's been waiting for. So…keep your eyes open."
She offered him the best smile that she could. But, Walt could see behind it. She was scared. Despite the façade she was presenting to him, she was afraid. He couldn't have specifically said of what, but he could read it in her eyes. More than likely, her fears were the same as his.
"You don't do anything stupid either."
The admonishment should have been expected. Her face was serious.
"Okay."
"I mean it. You're right. We both gotta keep clear heads. Nothing stupid. Nothing risky."
The words hung between them before she pushed up on her toes and kissed him before releasing his shirt. She shoved her phone into her pocket and gave him a long look.
"I'll call you. A few times."
She stopped short of calling it a check in. But, that's what it was. For them both. With that, she pulled on a hat to combat the cold and her gloves.
Then, she was gone and Walt was alone.