He waits a moment more, but that seems to be it. He thinks it's enough. There are people, he knows, who wouldn't want to keep living through something like what Susannah's described. But none of them are gunslingers. The steel inside of her has been honed into a fine, deadly edge and his is the hand who honed it.

"I know well what it means to do anything to survive. Who'd know better than I?" Memories proving that statement true begin to crowd against his thoughts. A few at first, then too many, each varying only a little from the last. He breathes a harsh breath out, turns his head slowly back and forth against hers. A hand on the back of Susannah's neck helps push them away, the skin warm and real under his. "I only wish you hadn't had to learn that lesson quite so well as you have. But here we are."

"Something will come, Susannah. Now that the both of us are here. What evil has there ever been that two gunslingers together couldn't vanish?"