She did not know what to do with that.
So she did what she always did when feelings became dangerous.
She became practical.
“Where’s the water?”
He showed her.
“Candles?”
Top shelf.
“Extra blankets?”
Chest.
“Food?”
Pantry wall.
“Outhouse?”
Behind the shed.
“Nearest neighbor?”
Three miles east.
“Town?”
Forty minutes in decent weather.
“Gun?”
The cowboy paused.
Then pointed toward a high shelf.
Rifle.
She nodded.
“Loaded?”
“Yes.”
“Can I use it?”
He looked at her.
“You know how?”
“Yes.”
“Then yes.”
Another surprise.
Dinner was quiet.
He ate slowly.
She watched.
He did not drink whiskey.
Did not complain.
Did not ask whether she liked the food every thirty seconds.
Afterward, he washed both bowls.
The bride sat at the table watching him.
“What?”
he finally asked.
“Nothing.”
“You’ve been staring at me for five minutes.”
“I’m thinking.”
“About?”
“What you want.”
He dried his hands.
“I told you.”
“No man tells the whole truth the first day.”
“Probably not.”
“So?”
He sat opposite her.
His hands rested flat on the table.
“I want to marry you.”
“That’s obvious.”
“I want a family someday.”
There.
She waited.
“If you don’t?”
he added.
She frowned.
“What?”
“If you don’t want children.”
He looked down.
“I’d rather know eventually.”
“But I’m not marrying you for an heir.”
She studied him.
“What else?”
He inhaled.
“This cabin gets too quiet.”
She almost smiled.
“That’s your great hidden motive?”
“Sounds foolish when you say it like that.”
“It sounds lonely.”
The cowboy did not answer.
The wind pressed against the cabin walls.
The bride heard something vulnerable in the silence.
That made her nervous.
Cruel men were easier.
You knew where to place them.
Kind men invited hope.
Hope was harder to survive.
The cowboy stood.
“There’s something else.”
Of course.
She felt herself harden.
Here it came.
He looked toward his bed.
Then immediately away.
“About tonight.”
The bride remained still.
“We marry tomorrow.”
“Yes.”
“And I know people expect…”
He stopped.
She watched him struggle.
A man who could probably lift an iron wheel alone had become terrified of a sentence.
She knew what he was trying to say.
She had heard cleaner versions.
A husband has needs.
A wife has duties.
The sooner we understand each other, the easier this will be.
She stood.
The cowboy stopped speaking.
The bride reached toward the first fastening of her dress.
His face changed instantly.
“What are you doing?”
“Saving us time.”
He took one step backward.
She loosened another fastening.
His gaze went deliberately to the stove.
Not her chest.
That annoyed her.