Harlan reached over her head.
Retrieved the jar.
Held it away.
“You are impossible.”
“You married me.”
“Against my better judgment.”
He smiled.
Josephine stopped.
That smile.
Again.
Her irritation disappeared.
Harlan noticed.
“What?”
She stepped toward him.
“You're handsome when you do that.”
His smile vanished.
Josephine laughed.
“Now you've ruined it.”
Harlan stared.
Her laughter softened.
Neither moved.
Then he said:
“Josephine.”
“Yes?”
“May I kiss you?”
The question went through her like heat.
She nodded.
“Yes.”
Harlan bent.
Stopped inches from her.
Josephine closed the distance herself.
Their lips met.
The first kiss was soft.
Almost too soft.
Josephine's hand rested against his chest.
Harlan's settled at her waist.
The second kiss lasted longer.
She felt him restraining himself.
Not from disgust.
From care.
Josephine pulled back.
“Why are you afraid?”
Harlan's eyes remained closed for one second.
“I'm not.”
“You are.”
He looked at her.
“You're my wife.”
“Yes.”
“I bought the paper that put you here.”
Her smile vanished.
“I don't want you confusing gratitude with wanting me.”
Josephine stared.
Then placed both hands against his chest.
“Harlan.”
“Yes?”
“I was grateful when you gave me the blue nightdress.”
He waited.
“I was grateful when you brought my trunk inside.”
“Yes.”
“I was grateful when you helped remove the corset.”
His jaw tightened.
“And?”
She rose slightly onto her toes.
“This is not gratitude.”
She kissed him.
Harlan's restraint cracked just enough for his arms to close around her.
Josephine gasped.
Not from fear.
His body surrounded hers.
For the first time in her life, being held by a large man did not make her feel enormous.
It made her feel matched.
When they separated, Harlan rested his forehead against hers.
“Still your choice?”
“Yes.”
“Tomorrow too?”
“Ask tomorrow.”
His mouth curved.
“Fair.”
The next morning, hoofbeats entered the valley.
Harlan heard first.
He was outside splitting wood.
Josephine stood inside kneading dough.
He stopped.
Three riders.
One wagon.
Coming up the mountain road.
Harlan's expression hardened.
Josephine stepped onto the porch.
“Who?”
He watched.
Then she recognized the man in front.
Her stomach dropped.
“Father.”
Harlan looked at her.
The second rider was Reverend Stokes.
The third was Samuel Croft.
Josephine's blood went cold.
Harlan saw it.
His axe lowered.
“Inside.”
“No.”
He looked at her.
“Josephine.”
“No.”
She removed the apron.
“They came for me.”
Harlan's jaw tightened.
“Then you decide.”
That calmed her more than protection would have.
The riders stopped.
Josephine's father climbed down.
Edwin Hale was fifty-eight, thin, gray, and permanently irritated by life.
He looked at Josephine.
Then Harlan.
Then the cabin.
“So.”
Josephine said nothing.
Edwin removed his gloves.
“Creek.”
Harlan nodded once.
“Hale.”
Reverend Stokes descended more carefully.
Samuel Croft remained mounted.
He was forty-five.
Clean-shaven.
Expensively dressed.
The kind of frontier businessman who hired other men to become dirty.
His gaze moved over Josephine.
Slowly.
Harlan saw.
So did she.
Edwin cleared his throat.
“There has been a misunderstanding.”
Josephine almost laughed.
“What misunderstanding?”
“The agreement.”
“What agreement?”
“With Mr. Creek.”
Harlan's eyes narrowed.
Edwin pulled out paper.
“Twenty dollars and two horses represented the initial consideration.”
“Initial?”
Josephine stared.
“Father.”
“You know how these contracts work.”
“No.”
She stepped forward.
“I know how selling livestock works.”
Edwin's face hardened.
“Watch your tone.”
Harlan moved.
Only one step.
Josephine touched his arm.
He stopped.
That single obedience changed the atmosphere.
Edwin noticed.
So did Croft.
Josephine continued.
“You accepted twenty dollars and two horses.”
“Yes.”
“You signed.”
“Yes.”
“And Reverend Stokes witnessed.”
The reverend shifted.
“Yes.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
Edwin held up the paper.
“Your aunt reviewed the arrangement.”
Josephine laughed.
Of course.
“She believes Mr. Creek owes an additional seventy-five dollars because the marriage was consummated.”
Silence.
Josephine's face became scarlet.
Harlan's expression turned murderous.
Reverend Stokes looked at the ground.
Croft smiled.
Josephine recovered first.
“You traveled through a blizzard to ask whether my husband has slept with me?”
Edwin frowned.
“Do not speak crudely.”
“You brought a bill.”
Harlan almost smiled.
Edwin ignored him.
“If Creek refuses payment, the contract contains a reversion clause.”
Josephine stared.
“A what?”
Samuel Croft dismounted.
Finally.
“If the full bride-price is not paid within thirty days, ownership of the marital contract returns to the original holder.”
Josephine's blood went cold.
“Ownership?”
Croft smiled.
“And your father transferred the reversion interest to me.”
Harlan stepped forward.
Josephine caught his hand.
“Wait.”
His jaw tightened.
She looked at Croft.
“You believe you own the right to my marriage.”
“Contractually.”
“You believe you can take me from my husband.”
“If Creek defaults.”
Josephine almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because the alternative was screaming.
Harlan spoke.
“How much?”
Her head snapped toward him.
Croft smiled.
“One hundred twenty dollars.”
Edwin frowned.
“You said seventy-five.”
“Costs changed.”
Harlan walked toward the cabin.
Josephine followed.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting money.”
“No.”
He stopped.
“Harlan.”
“They came for you.”
“And?”
“I can pay.”
Josephine stepped in front of him.
“No.”
His eyes narrowed.
“You want to go with him?”
Her face changed.
“You know I don't.”
“Then I pay.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because that makes them right.”
Harlan stared.
Josephine's voice shook.
“If you pay another price for me, then all we've done is decide which man owns the better receipt.”
Silence.
Harlan looked toward Croft.
Then back.
“What do you want?”
Josephine breathed.
The question.
Always.
“What do you want?”
Nobody had asked her often enough.
“I want the contract destroyed.”
Harlan nodded.
“Then we'll destroy it.”
“How?”
A voice came from behind them.
“Court.”
Reverend Stokes.
Everyone turned.
The reverend looked deeply uncomfortable.
Edwin glared.
“Stokes.”
The reverend swallowed.
“I witnessed the first contract.”
“Yes.”
“I did not witness any reversion clause.”
Croft's smile disappeared.
“What?”
Stokes continued.
“The document Mr. Hale showed me contained one page.”
Josephine looked at the new paper.
Three pages.
Harlan understood.
“Forgery?”
Reverend Stokes nodded reluctantly.
“Or alteration.”
Edwin's face drained.
Croft stepped toward him.
“You told me it was valid.”
“You said your lawyer—”
“Enough.”
Josephine stared at her father.
“You forged a contract to sell me twice.”
“No.”
“Father.”
“It was your aunt's idea.”
Josephine laughed in disbelief.
Of course.
Every cruelty required someone else to blame.
Croft turned toward Josephine.
“Regardless, I paid your father forty dollars for the interest.”
“That sounds unfortunate for you.”
His eyes narrowed.
“You are insolent.”
Harlan moved.
Josephine did not stop him this time.
He stepped between them.
Croft stared upward.