“When we married, she made me promise something.”
“What?”
“That I would never use protection as an excuse for control.”
Judson looked at Josie.
“I failed after she died.”
“I turned grief into violence.”
“I've spent years trying not to confuse the two again.”
Josie finally understood why he hated her father’s bargain.
He had already loved a woman the world considered transferable.
He knew what possession did.
“Is that why you brought me here?”
“Partly.”
“You saw her in me?”
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
Josie looked hurt.
Judson noticed.
“Not like that.”
“Then?”
“I saw the same fear.”
“What fear?”
“That kindness always has a bill attached.”
Josie looked away.
Judson shifted painfully.
“I knew that look.”
She stared at the fire.
“Do you still love her?”
“Yes.”
The honesty hurt.
Then comforted.
Strange.
“Does that mean there's no room for anyone else?”
Judson looked at her.
“No.”
Her heartbeat changed.
Neither spoke.
He healed.
February softened slightly.
On the first clear day, Josie rode the blue mare alone around the lower meadow.
When she returned, Judson stood on the porch.
“You went far.”
“You said not to leave the trail.”
“You left the trail.”
“I saw the cabin.”
“That is not the rule.”
“Then write better rules.”
He looked furious.
She dismounted.
Walked toward him.
“Were you worried?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because snow hides holes.”
“That all?”
“No.”
Josie stopped.
Judson walked closer.
“Do you enjoy this?”
“What?”
“Making me say things.”
“Yes.”
His eyes narrowed.
She smiled.
“What else?”
“I thought something happened to you.”
“And?”
“And I hated the thought.”
There.
Josie’s smile faded.
Judson lifted one hand.
Stopped.
“Can I?”
Her breath caught.
“Yes.”
He touched her cheek.
Barely.
His palm was rough.
Warm.
Josie closed her eyes.
No man had ever touched her face so gently.
Judson’s thumb moved once.
She opened her eyes.
“Why haven't you kissed me?”
His expression changed.
“Josie.”
“I’m asking.”
“Because you haven't asked me to.”
Her voice became quieter.
“What if I do?”
Judson’s eyes dropped to her mouth.
The air felt suddenly too thin.
“Then I kiss you.”
“That's simple.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve been trying not to think about it for three months.”
She smiled.
“Poorly?”
“Terribly.”
Josie stepped closer.
Their bodies nearly touched.
She had never felt so aware of her size.
Not with shame.
With presence.
She took up space between them.
Judson did not retreat.
“Then kiss me.”
He did.
Slowly.
Not hesitant.
Controlled.
His hand stayed at her cheek.
The other remained at his side until Josie reached for it and placed it against her waist.
Judson exhaled against her mouth.
Something in him almost broke.
The kiss deepened.
Josie grabbed his coat.