Abigail nodded.
He cupped her cheek.
His palm was rough.
Warm.
She covered it with her own hand.
“I’m frightened that if you lie beside me, you’ll see all of me.”
Simon’s eyes softened.
“And?”
“And regret wanting me.”
He wiped one tear away.
“Look at me.”
She did.
“There isn’t one part of you I’m asking to become smaller before I want you.”
Her breath caught.
Simon continued:
“I want all of you.”
“Your size.”
“Your temper.”
“The way you complain about my coffee.”
“You complain about everything.”
“I do not.”
He almost smiled.
Then became serious again.
“But I’m not getting into that bed because you’re afraid I’ll leave if you don’t invite me.”
Abigail shook her head.
“That’s not why.”
“Then why?”
“Because every night you lie on that floor…”
She struggled.
“I wish you were beside me.”
Simon’s jaw tightened.
Abigail continued:
“I want to wake up and find you there.”
“I want to know what it feels like to be held without wondering what it costs.”
Simon’s eyes became wet.
Abigail touched his beard.
“I want you.”
There.
Words she had feared she would never say without shame.
Simon leaned into her hand.
“Then share mine.”
Her breath stopped.
His voice softened.
“Not tonight because you owe me.”
“Not until the storm passes.”
“Not until Sterling disappears.”
He looked directly into her eyes.
“Share mine for as long as you choose me.”
Abigail started crying.
Simon smiled sadly.
“That sounded better in my head.”
She laughed through tears.
“It was terrible.”
“I can try again.”
“No.”
She pulled gently on his suspenders.
“Come here.”
Simon leaned closer.
Abigail whispered:
“You said forever.”
“I did.”
“That is a dangerous promise.”
“I know.”
“Do you mean it?”
“Yes.”
She kissed him.
Then—
BANG.
The window rattled.
Simon moved before Abigail understood the sound.
Lamp extinguished.
Rifle off the wall.
He pushed her down behind the bed.
“Stay below the window.”
Another shot cracked.
Wood splintered from the outer wall.
Abigail’s blood froze.
Horse hooves moved outside.
Several.
Simon crouched beside the window.
A voice carried through the snow.
“Simon Boone!”
Silence.
“Send the woman outside!”
Abigail gripped the blanket.
Simon looked at her.
She whispered:
“Sterling?”
The voice outside laughed.
“No, Miss Prescott.”
Abigail’s stomach dropped.
A man continued:
“Mr. Sterling sends his regards.”
Simon mouthed:
How many?
Abigail shook her head.
She could not see.
The rider shouted:
“Five men around the cabin.”
“Another six waiting down the trail.”
“We’re not here to kill anyone.”
Simon whispered:
“They always say that while shooting.”
Abigail’s hands trembled.
The bounty hunter called again: