The woman watched him.
“He made it for my mother.”
The rancher smiled.
“It's beautiful.”
She nodded.
“Inside are some of her things.”
He stepped back.
“Then I shouldn't disturb it.”
She smiled softly.
“Thank you.”
He turned toward the door.
Then stopped.
She was watching him.
Her expression had become uncertain.
He looked back.
“What?”
She hesitated.
Then whispered, “Would you like to see something?”
He nodded.
She approached the box and carefully opened it.
Inside lay several pieces of lace, an old silver hairpin, a length of ivory ribbon, and a folded drawing of a wedding gown.
The rancher studied the contents.
The woman lifted the drawing.
“My mother wanted to make me a wedding dress someday.”
Her voice trembled.
“She started planning it when I was young.”
He looked at the paper.
The design featured a square neckline, gathered sleeves, and delicate embroidery.
It was elegant.
The woman smiled sadly.
“She kept changing the measurements as I grew.”
The rancher looked toward her.
She continued.
“When I became so large, she said we'd simply need more fabric.”
He smiled faintly.
“Sounds sensible.”
She laughed.
Then her expression became sad.
“She died before she could make it.”
The rancher remained quiet.
The woman looked down at the drawing.
“I kept it because I couldn't bear throwing it away.”
He studied her.
Then asked gently, “Do you still want a dress like that?”
She looked surprised.
“What?”
“A wedding dress.”
Her cheeks flushed.
She laughed nervously.
“That's a dangerous question.”
He smiled.
“Just asking.”
She stared at the drawing.
Then whispered, “I used to.”
He waited.
She continued.
“Before I decided that no man would ever want to marry me.”
The rancher's expression changed.
He looked toward her.
“Who decided that?”
She gave a sad smile.
“The whole county, apparently.”
He shook his head.
She continued.
“People have said it often enough.”
He stepped closer.
“Darling, people say foolish things.”
She looked down.
He hesitated.
Then asked, “Would you believe me if I told you there's nothing foolish about wanting to be loved?”
Her eyes filled.
She looked toward him.
“Even looking like this?”
The rancher stared.
Then he gently reached for her hand.
“Yes.”
His voice was steady.
“Exactly as you are.”
For a moment, she couldn't speak.
Then she whispered, “You don't have to say that to make me feel better.”