Clara closed her eyes.
He bent.
Stopped.
Their mouths were close.
Not touching.
“Clara.”
“Yes?”
“If I kiss you, I’m not doing it because you owe me anything.”
Her eyes opened.
“I know.”
“And if you tell me no…”
“I know.”
Silas’s gaze dropped to her mouth.
Clara whispered:
“You talk too much for a cowboy.”
He kissed her.
Softly.
So softly that Clara nearly cried.
There was no demand in it.
No rush.
No hand forcing her closer.
His palm remained against her cheek.
His other arm stayed at his side.
Clara was the one who moved nearer.
She rested one hand against his chest.
Silas made a quiet sound in his throat.
The kiss deepened slightly.
Then he pulled back.
Clara’s eyes opened.
“That’s all?”
Silas laughed.
The sound vibrated through her hand.
“Careful.”
“Why?”
“You’ve never had a man my size this close while saying things like that.”
Clara smiled.
“Is that supposed to frighten me?”
“No.”
His voice dropped.
“That’s the point.”
He kissed her forehead.
Then mounted.
Clara stood watching until he disappeared beyond the ridge.
She touched her lips once.
Then called herself foolish.
It did not help.
Silas returned seventeen days later.
Clara heard Jake shouting from the yard.
“He’s back!”
She came out carrying flour.
Silas sat on his horse at the gate.
His saddlebags were full.
A sack of coffee hung behind the saddle.
So did medicine.
Clara stared.
“You robbed a store.”
“No.”
“You bought all of Silver Creek.”
“Almost.”
She folded her arms.
“I still owe you for the doctor.”
“I know.”
“And now you bring coffee?”
“You complained when I used the last of it.”
“I did not ask you to buy more.”
Silas dismounted.
“You are very difficult to court.”
Clara stopped.
“What?”
Silas went still.
Apparently he had not intended to say it so plainly.
Jake grinned.
“I’m going inside.”
Clara looked at him.
“You are doing no such thing.”
Jake vanished through the door.
Coward.
Clara turned back.
“Court?”
Silas removed his hat.
“Yes.”
“Me?”
“There is only one widow arguing with me.”
Her heart moved painfully.
She tried sounding reasonable.
“You barely know me.”
“I know enough to want to know more.”
“That is not the same.”
“I know.”
“Where would you stay?”
“Barn.”
“You expect me to let you live in my barn while courting me?”
“Better than sleeping under your bed.”
Clara stared.
Silas smiled.
She laughed despite herself.
Then became serious.
“You can stay a week.”
“One?”
“One.”
“And then?”
“We see.”
Silas nodded.
“Fair.”
He stayed six.
Not because Clara forgot.
Because every week she found another reason not to ask him to leave.
Jake adored him.
That did not help.
Silas taught the boy knots.
How to read tracks.
How to sharpen tools.