“You hate that.”
“I hate losing.”
Emily smiled faintly.
Daniel squeezed her hand.
“Because you don't treat me like Daniel Mercer who owns eight hundred acres.”
“You treat me like the idiot who forgot his lunch twice last week.”
“Three times.”
He stared.
“Not helping.”
She laughed.
Good.
He continued.
“Because when I think about being old, I don't imagine children standing around my bed.”
“I imagine you complaining that I never learned to put my boots in the right place.”
Her eyes filled again.
Daniel sighed.
“More tears.”
“Good tears.”
“I’m learning there are too many varieties.”
Emily wiped her cheek.
“What if you change your mind?”
“I might change my mind about plenty.”
He thought.
“I might decide I want sheep.”
“You hate sheep.”
“Exactly.”
“People change.”
“Love changes.”
“Marriage changes.”
“But I don't believe children are a debt you owe me.”
Emily stared.
“And if I never give you one?”
“Then you never give me one.”
“You make it sound simple.”
“It isn't simple.”
Daniel shook his head.
“It might hurt.”
“I won't lie.”
“If we try someday and it doesn't happen, I might grieve.”
“So might you.”
Emily’s eyes lowered.
“But grieving something together is different from blaming you for it.”
Silence.
Daniel continued.
“And there are other ways to make a family.”
Emily looked at him.
“What ways?”
He shrugged.
“Half this valley is full of children who need somebody yelling at them to close gates.”
She laughed.
“Daniel.”
“I’m serious.”
“My cousin Sarah has six.”
“She'd probably sell us two.”
“Daniel!”
He laughed.
Emily hit his arm weakly.
The blanket slipped.
She caught it.
Their eyes met.
The humor disappeared gradually.
Something warmer replaced it.
Daniel’s voice lowered.
“Are you still afraid of me?”
Emily thought.
“No.”
“Of tonight?”
“A little.”
“Then nothing happens tonight that makes that worse.”
She looked at his shirt.
Then at the bed.
“Daniel.”
“Yes?”
“I don't want you in the chair.”
His heartbeat changed.
He kept his face neutral.
“All right.”
“You can sleep here.”
He looked toward the bed.
“Sleep.”
She raised one eyebrow.
“Yes.”
“Good clarification.”
She almost smiled.
Daniel stood.
“I’ll put out the lamp.”
Emily grabbed his hand.
He stopped.
“Stay a moment.”
He sat beside her.
Not touching until she moved.
Then Emily leaned into him.
Slowly.
Her head rested against his chest.