“You.”
She stepped closer.
“Why?”
The Rancher looked toward the open door.
She waited.
Finally:
“You became my wife because of a card game.”
“So?”
“That matters.”
“To you.”
“Yes.”
The Bride softened.
The Rancher continued.
“I’m not using a bet as permission.”
Something deep inside her shifted.
Men had ignored her wishes for most of her life.
Her father treated her labor as owed.
Customers treated her attention as automatic.
The strange man she married because of a gambling debt was the first man to understand that marriage did not erase choice.
The Bride stepped closer.
She placed one hand against his chest.
Deliberate.
He looked down.
“This is permission.”
His eyes lifted.
“For what?”
“To stop acting like touching my waist will kill me.”
A hint of humor entered his expression.
“Only that?”
“For today.”
He covered her hand with his.
“Thank you.”
She smiled.
“Slow man.”
He almost answered.
Then a ranch hand entered.
Both jumped apart.
The man stopped.
Looked between them.
Then toward the ceiling.
“I’ll come back.”
He disappeared.
The Bride covered her mouth.
The Rancher muttered something.
She laughed.
The first kiss still did not come.
The Bride became increasingly impatient.
Their hands touched often now.
Sometimes his palm rested against the small of her back as they passed in tight spaces.
Sometimes she leaned against his shoulder while reading.
One evening she fell asleep on the sofa.
The Rancher found her.
Covered her with a blanket.
Brushed loose hair from her cheek.
He thought she slept.
She did not.
His thumb lingered.
Then he whispered, “You are so much trouble.”
The Bride nearly smiled.
He walked away.
She opened her eyes.
Her heart would not settle for an hour.
Then the riders came.
Three men appeared from the south late one afternoon.
The Lone Rancher saw them first.
His entire body changed.
The Bride stood on the porch.
“Who?”
“Inside.”
She folded her arms.
“Who?”
“Bride.”
“Rancher.”
He glared.
“Inside.”
“No.”
The riders reached the yard.
Their leader wore a dark coat and an ugly smile.
“You’re the gambler.”
The Rancher stepped forward.
“You’re trespassing.”
The man looked toward the Bride.
His smile widened.
“Didn’t know you married.”
No answer.
The Rider nodded toward her.
“Pretty.”
The Rancher moved slightly.
Blocking part of his view.
The Bride saw the gesture.
The Rider laughed.
“You owe money.”
“No.”
“You lost to one of my men.”
“Paid.”
“Interest.”
“Not part of the deal.”
“Deals change.”
The Rancher’s hand lowered near the weapon at his side.
The Bride saw tension climb.
She stepped from the porch.
The Rancher looked furious.
“Bride.”
She ignored him.
“How much?”
The Rider named a number.