“Also, your kitchen needs supervision.”
His mouth moved.
“My kitchen?”
“Temporary statement.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Is that what you are?”
“Temporary?”
“Yes.”
Her heart changed rhythm.
The question they had postponed had arrived.
Their employment agreement ended in three days.
The winter job was over.
Roads open.
Money paid.
She could go anywhere.
He knew.
She knew.
Neither had spoken about the night they shared the bed since returning from Hollow Creek.
Too much had happened.
Now everything quieted.
The woman stood near the kitchen table.
The mountain cowboy placed her final wages down.
She looked at the money.
Then him.
“That's all?”
“What?”
“Thirty dollars.”
“You're owed thirty.”
“I know.”
He frowned.
“You want a bonus?”
She almost screamed.
Instead:
“No.”
He nodded.
“Fine.”
Impossible man.
She took the money.
Went to her room.
Packed.
Very loudly.
He remained in the barn.
Coward.
By morning her trunk sat beside the door.
The mountain cowboy came inside.
Saw it.
Stopped.
“When?”
“Stagecoach tomorrow.”
He went completely still.
“I’ll take you.”
“That isn't necessary.”
“I said I would.”
She looked at him.
“Do you want me to leave?”
His expression became hard.
“No.”
“Then why are you behaving like a man delivering freight?”
“Because you can leave.”
“I know.”
“I need you to know.”
“I know.”
He looked away.
She stepped closer.
“You keep giving me doors.”
“Yes.”
“Have you considered asking me not to use one?”
His eyes returned.
He looked almost frightened.
The legend who feared no woman.
She suddenly understood.
He was terrified.
Not of her body.
Not of women.
Of asking someone to stay and discovering they preferred freedom from him.
The woman touched his chest.
Over the tattoo of her father.
Then over her mother.
“Ask.”
His voice barely worked.
“Stay.”
She waited.
He swallowed.
“Please.”
Her eyes filled.
“For how long?”
He looked at her.
“As long as you want.”
“That answer is cheating.”
“Yes.”
She smiled.
“Try again.”
His hand moved toward her waist.
Stopped.
She nodded.
He touched her.
“Stay with me.”
“Not because of your parents.”
“Not because I owe anyone.”