13 Something Changed
1330 Words
They dropped low before Clara fully realized they'd stopped.
Noah's hand pressed lightly at her back, guiding her behind a broken wagon wheel half-buried in the dirt.
"Stay here," he murmured.
Clara nodded,
then immediately forgot how breathing worked.
Voices drifted through the trees.
Close.
Too close.
Men laughing. Boots shifting. Metal clinking.
Her heart slammed hard against her ribs.
"Okay," she whispered to herself. "This is fine. This is totally fine."
Noah glanced at her.
"That so?"
Clara kept her eyes forward.
"No. Not even a little."
His mouth curved faintly,
then he was gone.
Moving.
Silent.
Like he belonged here.
Clara blinked.
"...show-off."
She forced herself to follow when he signaled, slipping from shadow to shadow.
Not graceful.
Not smooth.
But not falling.
Progress.
The pen came into view.
Horses packed tight, restless, shifting.
Clara's breath caught.
"Oh... that's a lot of horse."
Noah appeared beside her again like he'd never left.
"I'll open it," he said quietly.
Clara swallowed.
"And I do what?"
"Keep them calm."
She stared at him.
"You're joking."
He didn't blink.
"...you're not joking."
"Clare."
That tone again.
Steady.
Certain.
Clara exhaled slowly.
"Okay. Fine. I'm calming horses now. That's apparently a thing I do."
She stepped forward carefully, reaching out to the nearest horse.
"Hi," she whispered. "We're friends. You just don't know it yet."
The horse flicked an ear.
Watched her.
Didn't kick her.
Clara took that as a win.
Behind her,
a soft creak.
Then another.
Then,
chaos.
The gate gave.
Horses exploded out of the pen, hooves pounding, bodies surging forward like they had been waiting for exactly this moment.
Clara jumped back.
"Okay, that worked."
"No complaints," Noah muttered, grabbing her wrist and pulling her sideways just as boots pounded toward them.
She collided with him,
hard,
and suddenly they were pressed against a tree, his body between hers and the open space.
His hand came up, covering her mouth.
Clara froze.
Not from fear.
From awareness.
His chest against hers.
His breath warm against her cheek.
"Don't move," he whispered.
She nodded against his hand.
Voices rushed past.
Men shouting.
Chasing the horses.
Clara stayed perfectly still.
Mostly because she had no other option.
Also because,
he hadn't moved.
At all.
After a long moment, his hand lowered.
But he didn't step away.
Clara blinked up at him.
"...we should go."
"Yeah."
He didn't sound like he wanted to.
Then he shifted,
and the moment snapped.
They moved again.
Lower.
Closer.
To the supply wagon.
Noah crouched, reaching beneath it, then pressed something into her hand.
Clara looked down.
A knife.
"...I don't like where this is going."
"Barrels," he said. "Quick."
Clara nodded.
Focused.
She drove the blade into the wood.
Noah worked beside her.
Once.
Twice.
The barrel cracked,
beans and grain spilling out fast across the dirt.
"Don't stop."
She didn't.
Another barrel.
Another.
Until,
a sharp c***k split the air.
Liquid poured out, strong-smelling, fast.
Noah grabbed her, pulling her clear before it splashed.
Too loud.
"Check the wagon!"
Clara's head snapped up.
"Oh no."
Noah didn't hesitate.
He rolled them both out from under the wagon, dropping into the brush as footsteps pounded toward them.
Twigs snapped.
Her breath came too fast.
Too loud.
His hand found hers.
Squeezed once.
Grounding.
"Breathe," he murmured.
She tried.
Barely.
Voices passed.
Close enough to feel.
Then,
gone.
Clara let out a shaky breath.
"...I hate this."
"No you don't."
She looked at him.
"I hate parts of this."
"That's fair."
They moved fast now.
Back through the trees.
Branches caught at her sleeves, roots reached for her feet.
Noah's hand found hers again.
Firm.
Immediate.
"Watch your step."
"I am watching, "
She tripped.
A sharp breath,
and then she wasn't falling.
Noah's arm wrapped around her, catching her hard against him.
Clara blinked.
"...okay, that was impressive."
"Yeah."
But he didn't let go.
Not right away.
His hand stayed at her waist, fingers spread, steadying her a second longer than necessary.
Clara became very aware of it.
"...I'm standing."
"Mm."
Still not moving.
Still holding her.
Her breath caught.
"Noah."
"What?"
"That's not guiding anymore."
His mouth curved faintly.
"No."
Then softer,
"It's not."
That landed.
He loosened his hold,
but didn't let go completely.
His hand slid down, catching hers instead.
Fingers threading with hers.
Intentional.
Clara looked down at their hands.
Then up at him.
"You're not even pretending now."
"No."
No hesitation.
No apology.
Just truth.
Clara exhaled slowly.
"...this is complicated."
"Has been for a while."
That tone again.
That knowing.
Clara looked forward quickly.
"Focus."
But her hand didn't pull away.
Behind her,
"Tryin'."
Elijah heard them before he saw them.
Branches shifting.
Two sets of footsteps.
Close.
Together.
He didn't move.
Just rested his hand against the saddle, the newly set shoe still warm beneath his palm, and listened.
Then they broke through the trees.
Clara,
No.
Not first.
With.
That was what hit him.
Not leading.
Not following.
Moving beside.
Noah's hand at her back as she stepped over a root.
His body angled toward hers without thinking.
Like it belonged there.
Like she did.
Clara said something, Elijah couldn't hear it, but she glanced up at Noah when she did, her mouth curving faintly.
Not teasing.
Not defensive.
Something softer.
Something settled.
Elijah felt it land slow.
Heavy.
He had seen Noah with women before.
Charm.
Ease.
Walk away.
This wasn't that.
This was different.
And Clara,
Clara wasn't pushing him away.
Wasn't creating space.
She moved with him.
Trusted him.
Like she knew how.
Like she'd done it before.
Elijah's jaw tightened.
Not anger.
Something harder.
He didn't call out.
Didn't interrupt.
Just watched them take the last steps out of the trees.
Noah's hand lingered at her waist a second too long.
Then slipped away.
Not fast.
Not guilty.
Just... when it was time.
Clara saw Elijah.
"Elijah."
Relief lit her face immediately.
Real.
She moved toward him without hesitation.
That helped.
More than it should have.
"You're alright?" he asked.
Steady.
Controlled.
She nodded quickly.
"Yes. We found them. There's more than we thought. They're already set up, watching, "
Her words rushed.
Too fast.
Elijah reached out, his hand closing lightly around her arm.
"Slow."
Clara blinked.
Breathed.
"Okay."
His thumb brushed once along her sleeve.
Then he let go.
His gaze lifted.
To Noah.
"How many?"
Noah didn't hesitate.
"More than five."
Elijah nodded once.
Then looked back at Clara.
"You hurt?"
She shook her head.
"No. Just... everything hurts a little."
His mouth almost curved.
"Sounds right."
A small breath passed between them.
Then quiet settled again.
Elijah looked between them once more.
Took it in.
The space.
Or lack of it.
The way Noah still angled toward her.
The way Clara didn't seem to notice.
Or didn't mind.
That sting came sharper this time.
But he held it.
Because losing his temper now,
losing either of them,
was worse.
He exhaled slowly.
"...we got time before dark," he said. "Enough to figure what we do next."
Clara nodded immediately.
"Yes. We need to think this through. We can't just, "
She caught herself.
Slowed.
Focused.
Elijah watched her.
Then said, quieter,
"Together."
She paused.
Looked at him.
Something softened.
"...yeah," she said. "Together."
Noah shifted behind her.
Not stepping in.
Not stepping away.
Just there.
Elijah met his eyes.
A long look.
Not a threat.
Not a warning.
Something older.
Then he turned, reaching for the reins.
"Let's move."
Clara didn't follow right away.
She looked back.
Toward the trees.
Toward the hidden camp.
Toward the chaos they'd just left behind.
"They weren't ready for that," she said quietly.
Noah's gaze followed hers.
"No."
Elijah stilled.
Clara's voice dropped.
"That wasn't supposed to happen yet."
Silence.
Then,
Elijah turned back to her.
"What does that mean?"
Clara met his eyes.
And for the first time,
there was no hesitation.
"It means," she said quietly, "we already changed something."
- Writer
