He's about to tell her that he fought his way out before the coal got into his lungs and his veins and every part of him but then he catches movement in the trees.

His hand on her arm, he brings them both to a halt.

"Hello, Raylan," says a familiar voice, low and rich and warm as apple pie. "Your Momma would have been so, so sorry to see how you've turned out."

Raylan sighs.

"You come on out here and let us see you, Mags."