He answered carefully.
“No.”
“Really?”
“I wasn’t ready the first year.”
She listened.
“Probably not the second.”
“And third?”
He smiled.
“Third year, I was an idiot.”
She laughed.
“That seems accurate.”
He kissed her hair.
“I needed the Tuesdays.”
“What do you mean?”
“I needed you to keep showing up without demanding anything.”
The Ranch Woman became quiet.
He continued.
“I think that’s when I learned not everyone who gets close wants to take something.”
She looked up.
“That sounds like more than grief.”
He nodded.
“My wife’s illness cost almost everything.”
The Ranch Woman knew the ranch had struggled.
She had not known how badly.
“People became kind when they thought I might sell.”
Her expression hardened.
“Kind?”
“Offers.”
Understanding arrived.
“Low offers.”
“Yes.”
“While she was sick?”
“Yes.”
The Ranch Woman felt anger years too late.
He continued.
“One man came the week after the funeral.”
“What did he want?”
“North pasture.”
Her mouth opened.
The Widowed Rancher smiled without humor.
“I threw him off the porch.”
“Good.”
“He broke a finger.”
“Better.”
That made him laugh.
The Ranch Woman rested her head against him again.
“People can be terrible.”
“Yes.”
“They can also bring pie.”
He smiled.
“Some do.”
The storm passed by morning.
They stepped outside to a world transformed white.
The Ranch Woman looked across the field toward her own house.
Snow had erased the path between them.
The Widowed Rancher stood beside her.
“Stay another day.”
She looked over.
The request surprised them both.
He added quickly, “Roads are bad.”
She smiled.
“Of course.”
“Safety.”
“Entirely.”
“Yes.”
She stepped close.
“You could just say you want me here.”
He frowned.
“That seems unnecessarily vulnerable.”
The Ranch Woman laughed.
“Try.”
The Widowed Rancher looked at the snow.
Then at her.
“I want you here.”
She kissed his cheek.
“See?”
“Terrible.”
“You survived.”
“Barely.”
Spring came late.
With it came a challenge neither expected.
The Ranch Woman became ill.
Nothing dramatic at first.
Fatigue.
A cough.
Fever.
She ignored it.
Worked anyway.
The Widowed Rancher noticed when she failed to arrive Tuesday morning.
By noon, he was at her door.
No answer.
He entered.
Found her asleep near the stove, fully dressed.
His heart stopped.
“Ranch Woman.”
She stirred.
“Go away.”
“No.”
“I’m sleeping.”
“You have a fever.”
“I noticed.”