“Maybe.”
That answer surprised him.
Josie continued.
“I know we were starving.”
“I know there was no food.”
“I know fear makes people ugly.”
“For months I told myself that was enough to forgive you.”
Amos looked almost hopeful.
“It isn't.”
His face hardened again.
“What do you want?”
“Nothing.”
“I’m your father.”
“Yes.”
“And I want nothing from you.”
That sentence ended something.
Amos looked toward Judson.
Then the cabin.
Then Josie.
“You think you're better than us now.”
“No.”
“I think I was never as worthless as you needed me to believe.”
Amos slapped her.
The sound cracked across the yard.
For half a second, nobody moved.
Then Judson crossed the distance.
Fast.
Josie turned.
“Judson!”
He stopped inches from Amos.
Every muscle in his body looked prepared to kill.
Amos had gone white.
Josie’s cheek burned.
She stepped between them.
Not because Amos deserved protection.
Because Judson did.
“Look at me.”
Judson’s eyes remained on Amos.
“Judson.”
Slowly he looked at her.
“Don't.”
His breathing was heavy.
Josie placed one hand against his chest.
“He is not worth making you that man again.”
Judson froze.
He understood exactly which man.
Cheyenne.
Anna.
Violence disguised as justice.
His hands slowly opened.
Amos looked confused.
Judson stepped back.
Josie turned toward her father.
“If you touch me again, I will have the sheriff charge you.”
Amos laughed uncertainly.
“The sheriff?”
“Yes.”
“For hitting your own daughter?”
“For assaulting an adult woman.”
His expression changed.
Josie continued.
“You don't own me.”
“Judson doesn't own me.”
“No man does.”
One of Amos’s companions took off his hat.
“Amos.”
“What?”
“We should go.”
Amos stared at Josie.
“You'll regret choosing him.”
She looked at Judson.
Then back.
“I didn't choose him today.”
“I chose myself.”
That hurt Amos more.
He left.
The men followed.
Judson watched until they disappeared.
Then he looked at Josie’s cheek.
His expression became furious again.
“Inside.”
“That sounds like an order.”
His eyes closed.
“Please.”
She smiled faintly.
“Better.”
Inside, Judson wrapped ice in cloth.
Josie sat.
He pressed it gently against her cheek.
His hand shook.
She noticed.
“You’re angry.”
“Yes.”
“At me?”
His eyes snapped toward hers.
“Never.”
“Then stop shaking.”
“I almost killed him.”
“But you didn't.”
“Because you stopped me.”
“No.”
He frowned.
“Because you stopped yourself.”
Judson looked away.
Josie touched his wrist.
“You listened.”
“To you.”
“That counts.”
His eyes returned.
“I should have stopped him before he touched you.”
“I told you not to interfere.”
“I should have ignored you.”
Josie smiled.
“Terrible foundation for romance.”
His face softened.
“Romance?”
Her heart jumped.