“Are you happy?”
The question surprised her.
The Older Sister looked toward the ranch visible in the distance.
Fence line.
Barn.
House.
Well.
Everything unchanged.
Everything changed.
“I’m terrified.”
The Younger Sister smiled.
“That wasn’t the question.”
The Older Sister looked back toward the Cowboy.
He was watching her.
Of course.
She turned forward.
“Yes.”
The Younger Sister nodded.
“Good.”
At sunset, the Cowboy stood beside the fence where they had first met.
The Older Sister knew immediately what he was doing.
She walked out alone.
The Younger Sister remained on the porch.
Pretending not to watch.
The Cowboy removed his hat.
The Older Sister crossed her arms.
“That looks serious.”
“It is.”
“Good.”
He took one step toward her.
“I don’t have a ring.”
“I noticed.”
“I have almost no money.”
“I noticed that too.”
“I own a horse.”
“Impressive.”
“Two shirts.”
“One decent.”
“Barely.”
The Older Sister’s mouth twitched.
The Cowboy’s voice became quieter.
“I know what it means to lose land.”
“To lose home.”
“To keep moving because staying anywhere feels like asking life to take something again.”
He looked toward the ranch.
“Then I came through that fence.”
“You yelled at me.”
“You were trespassing.”
“Technically the cattle were.”
She glared.
He smiled.
Then the smile faded.
“I thought I’d fix the line and leave.”
“I tried.”
The Older Sister remembered the empty loft.
Her chest tightened.
The Cowboy continued.
“I got three miles.”
“Couldn’t keep riding.”
“Not because of the well.”
“Not really.”
“Because I kept seeing you.”
She swallowed.
The Cowboy stepped closer.
“Angry.”
“Dirty.”
“Stubborn.”
“Beautiful.”
“Bossing me around like I had been irritating you for twenty years.”
The Older Sister smiled despite herself.
He continued.
“I don’t want another road.”
“I want this one.”
“I want broken fences.”
“Dry summers.”
“Your temper.”
“Your sister asking questions at supper.”
“I want mornings where you pretend you don’t need help.”
“And nights where you finally admit you’re tired.”
The Older Sister’s eyes burned.
The Cowboy took her hand.
No kneeling.
No performance.
Just the two of them beside the repaired fence.
“Will you let me stay?”
She whispered:
“That is not a proposal.”
He smiled.
“Will you marry me?”
The Older Sister waited.
Long enough to punish him.
The Cowboy’s expression became uncertain.
Then she stepped closer.