“A little while.”
She carried the case back inside herself.
He did not take it from her.
That mattered.
The next week changed them.
Not dramatically.
Nothing was declared.
Lila reopened the room she had used.
Graham repaired the back fence.
They cooked together.
Argued about coffee.
Rode into town for supplies.
But something had changed because staying had become a choice.
One evening Graham came in from repairing a shed roof.
Lila stood at the stove.
She wore a blue house dress now, one of Matilda's old sewing projects altered to fit her.
The neckline sat lower than her traveling dress.
Not improper.
Enough to remind Graham he was a man with eyes.
She caught him looking.
“That jaw again.”
Graham removed his hat.
“What about it?”
“Tight.”
“Long day.”
“Liar.”
He leaned against the table.
“You've become disrespectful.”
“I've become comfortable.”
That word moved through him differently.
“Comfortable.”
“Yes.”
She stirred stew.
“Should I be worried?”
“Possibly.”
Graham stepped closer.
Lila looked over her shoulder.
He stopped at arm's length.
“You stayed.”
“One week.”
“Seven days.”
“You counted?”
“Yes.”
She turned fully.
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to know when your little while became longer.”
Her expression softened.
“Graham.”
He took off his hat.
Set it down.
“I don't want gratitude.”
“I know.”
“I don't want you staying because of my mother.”
“I know.”
“I don't want you deciding I'm wounded enough that leaving would be cruel.”
Her eyes sharpened.
“I would never.”
“I know.”
He breathed.
“I want you here because you want to be.”
Lila stared.
“And if I do?”
His voice became rougher.
“Then I want to kiss you again.”
Her mouth curved.
“Only kiss?”
Graham's pulse kicked.
Lila set down the spoon.
“Careful.”
He stepped closer.
“That was my line.”
“You abandoned it.”
She caught his vest with two fingers again.
The same gesture as before.
This time Graham smiled.
Lila whispered:
“I stayed because I wasn't finished.”
“With the house?”
“No.”
“With your mother's story?”
“No.”
Graham's gaze dropped to her mouth.
“With what, then?”
She pulled him closer.
“You.”
He kissed her.
This one held no grief inside it.
No anger.
No dead woman standing between them.
Only choice.
Lila's hands moved up his chest.
Graham's arms went around her waist.
She kissed him harder.
He felt her smile against his mouth.
Then she pulled away just far enough to speak.
“That jaw's finally relaxed.”
“Give it time.”
She laughed.
He kissed her neck.
Lila inhaled sharply.
Graham stopped.
“Still all right?”
She opened her eyes.
There was heat in them now.
“And here I thought cowboys were supposed to be reckless.”
“Not with women who matter.”