The deed lies between us on the dusty bar, its edges curled like a challenge I cannot ignore. Jane stands close enough that I smell the dust in her hair, her teeth worrying her lower lip as she studies the lines of the land that will soon be ours.
I have never failed those I claim to protect. Yet the thought of her turning from me after the vows makes my grip tighten on the wood. My authority has always been enough. With her, it must become something more.
I move behind her, my chest brushing her back, one hand braced beside hers on the map. The question is no longer the ranch. It is whether she will bend when I tell her to.
