“I need to tell you something.”
“Finally.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
He exhaled.
“I’m too big for you.”
The ranch woman stared.
Then slowly smiled.
The cowboy frowned.
“That isn’t funny.”
“It is a little.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know.”
“You don’t.”
He shifted as though preparing to move her.
The ranch woman placed one arm around his shoulders.
“Don’t.”
His hand froze.
She leaned closer.
“Stop deciding what I can handle.”
His eyes darkened.
“I’m trying to keep from hurting you.”
“You haven’t.”
“I could.”
“So could I.”
He almost smiled.
“Not physically.”
“You underestimate me.”
“I’ve watched you try to lift grain sacks.”
She frowned.
“That was once.”
“You fell over.”
“The sack was badly balanced.”
“It was grain.”
She slapped his chest lightly.
The cowboy caught her wrist.
Not hard.
Just enough to stop the second attempt.
The ranch woman looked at his hand around hers.
Then at him.
His fingers immediately loosened.
She did not pull away.
Instead, she turned her hand and intertwined their fingers.
The cowboy stared at them.
Her hand nearly disappeared inside his.
“See?”
He murmured.
“See what?”
“Difference.”
The ranch woman lifted their joined hands.
“And?”
“I could hurt you without meaning to.”
She softened.
“Is that what this has been about?”
He did not answer.
She knew.
The ranch woman closed the book completely.
Set it aside.
Then turned more fully toward him.
Her knee rested along his thigh.
One arm around his shoulders.
The cowboy looked trapped.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
She had finally cornered the truth.
“Look at me.”
He did.
“You think because you’re stronger, you have to decide everything for both of us.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I’m careful.”
“You’re controlling.”
His brows rose.
“That’s unfair.”
“It’s true.”
“I never told you what to do.”
“You decide what you’re allowed to feel.”
He looked away.
She touched his jaw.
“And then you decide what I’m allowed to want.”
His eyes returned.
“That part belongs to me.”
Silence.
A horse shifted in the stall behind them.
Dust floated in golden light from the open doors.
The ranch woman spoke softly.
“If I tell you no, you stop.”
“Yes.”
“Immediately?”
“Yes.”
“If I say move your hand?”
“I move it.”
“If I want to stand?”
“You stand.”
She smiled.
“Then what exactly are you afraid of?”
His expression tightened.
“Losing control.”
“With me?”
“With myself.”
She rested her forehead lightly against his.
“You’re not an animal.”
His eyes closed.
“You don’t know everything I’ve done.”
“I know enough.”
“No.”