Not since.
Not like this.
Judson’s body was warm.
Solid.
His beard touched her hair.
After several seconds she whispered:
“You can let go.”
“Do you want me to?”
She did not answer.
Judson did not move.
Eventually she stepped back.
His hands immediately released her.
That mattered.
Everything with Judson seemed to matter in small ways.
The way he looked away while she dressed.
The way he did not monitor her portions.
The way he never mentioned the chair after building it.
The way he asked before touching unless danger required otherwise.
The way his eyes sometimes moved over her body and then returned to her face.
That last one became increasingly difficult to ignore.
Josie was not foolish.
Judson desired her.
She saw it when she leaned over the table.
When her hair fell loose.
When summer-thin fabric stretched across places winter cloth concealed.
He hid it well.
Not perfectly.
The realization terrified her.
Desire had always been presented to Josie as something she should be grateful for receiving.
Men who showed interest expected reward.
Men who did not made sure she understood why.
Judson seemed to want her and consider that his own problem.
One evening she decided to test him.
Perhaps unfairly.
She wore the blue dress without the shawl.
The neckline sat lower than usual.
Not obscene.
Enough.
Judson came inside carrying wood.
Saw her.
Stopped.
Josie pretended not to notice.
He set the wood down.
One piece fell.
She looked.
“Problem?”
“No.”
“You dropped something.”
“I saw.”
“You’re staring.”
“No.”
“You are.”
Judson looked directly into her eyes.
“You want honesty?”
Her heartbeat changed.
“Yes.”
“You look beautiful.”
Josie swallowed.
“That’s all?”
“No.”
She waited.
Judson rubbed one hand over his beard.
“You're making the room difficult.”
She almost laughed.
“Difficult?”
“For me.”
“Why?”
He gave her a warning look.
She knew exactly why.
“Say it.”
“Josie.”
“Say it.”
Judson stepped closer.
Her breath shortened.
“I want you.”
The words were simple.
No embellishment.
Her body reacted before thought.
Judson stopped several feet away.
“But wanting doesn't give me anything.”
Josie looked at him.
“Not even after my father gave me to you?”
His face darkened.
“He didn't.”
“He thought he did.”
“He was wrong.”
“So was everyone in the store.”
“Yes.”
Josie stepped closer.
“You paid.”
“For supplies.”
“And took me.”
“I offered you somewhere safe.”
“You said come on.”
Judson winced.
“Poor phrasing.”
She almost smiled.
Then:
“What if I had said no?”
“I'd have given your father the supplies and left you there.”
Her eyes widened.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Even knowing he might trade me again?”
Judson’s jaw tightened.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you aren't safer with me if you can't say no to me.”
The sentence struck somewhere deep.
Josie looked away.
Judson watched.
Then she asked:
“Why are you like this?”
He laughed softly.
“Not generally praised for my manners.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”