Luke looked at her steadily a moment, then swung his legs over and took her hand. It was warm and strong, as he somehow knew it would be--the desert didn't allow weakness to survive very long. It wore away or buried everything that stood still for too long or wasn't sturdy enough to stand up to it; he'd dug enough sand from around the moisture collectors to know.

"Sure," he said, and stood, keeping hold of her hand for a moment longer. "Lead the way."