“Don't make this more embarrassing than it already is.”
She stared at him.
“More embarrassing for whom?”
His expression hardened.
“For both of us.”
The woman slowly straightened.
She could not make herself taller than him.
She could not make her body smaller.
But she could refuse to lower her head.
“I have nothing to be embarrassed about.”
The merchant's eyes narrowed.
“Then you won't mind arranging your own lodging.”
He reached for the travel bag beside her.
For one hopeful second, she believed he might be helping.
Instead, he picked it up and dropped it onto the muddy street.
The bag struck a stone.
Its clasp opened.
A folded shawl and several personal papers spilled into the dirt.
A few men laughed.
The woman stared at the scattered belongings.
Something inside her seemed to break.
Not because she had never been insulted.
She had.
Not because she had never been rejected.
That was painfully familiar.
But because this man had spent eleven months inviting her to trust him.
He had promised honesty.
He had promised companionship.
And now, faced with the woman he had encouraged to cross half a continent, he could not even offer the dignity of a private conversation.
The merchant turned toward the crowd.
“I'm afraid there has been a misunderstanding.”
The woman looked up sharply.
“No.”
He stopped.
She continued, her voice shaking.
“There was no misunderstanding. I wrote the truth. You chose not to believe it.”
The laughter faded.
The merchant's jaw tightened.
“You should stop talking.”
She looked directly at him.
“I came here because you asked me to.”
His eyes flicked toward the people watching.
“And now I'm telling you to leave.”
The woman felt tears gathering.
She refused to let them fall.
“Then I will.”
She reached toward the bag.
But bending down was difficult, and the long journey had left her legs aching.
Her hand shook as she steadied herself against the wagon.
The merchant watched without moving.
Nobody stepped forward.
Then a deep voice came from behind the gathered crowd.
“That's enough.”
The merchant turned.
A tall cowboy stood near the hitching rail, holding the reins of a chestnut horse.