“Run every damn thing,” he muttered.
“The term of the will’s done, Ben. You don’t have to check things over around here anymore.”
His eyes weren’t friendly when they flickered under the brim of his hat. “You think that’s all there is to it?”
“I don’t know. You haven’t been interested in much else lately.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“What it says. You haven’t exactly been a regular visitor in my bed the last few weeks.”
“I’ve been occupied.”
“Well, now I’m occupied, so go run your own wire.”
He braced his legs apart much as she’d braced her own and faced her between the fence posts. “This line’s as much mine as yours.”
“Then you should’ve been checking it, same as me.”
He tossed the wire down between them, like a boundary between them, between their land. “Okay, you want to know what’s going on with me, I’ll tell you.” He tugged two thin gold hoops out of his pocket and shoved them into her hand.
“Oh.” She frowned down at them. “I’d forgotten about them.”
“I haven’t.” He’d kept them—God knew why, when every time he looked at them he relived the night, the dark, the fear. And each time he looked at them he wondered if he’d have found her in time if she hadn’t been smart enough, strong enough, to leave a trail.
“So, you found my earrings.” She tucked them in her own pocket.
“Yeah, I found them. And I climbed up that ridge listening to him screaming at you. Saw him holding a knife to your throat. Watched a line of blood run down your skin where he nicked you.”
Instinctively she pressed her hand to her throat. There were times when she could still feel it there, the keen point of the knife her father had put in a killer’s hand.
“It’s done,” she told him. “I don’t much like going back there.”
“I go back there plenty. I can see that flash of lightning, your eyes in that flash of lightning when you knew what I was going to do. When you trusted me to do it.”
She hadn’t closed her eyes, he remembered. She’d kept them open, level, watching as he squeezed the trigger.
“I put a bullet in a man about six inches from your face. It’s given me some bad moments.”
“I’m sorry.” She reached for his hand, but dropped her own when he pulled back, stayed on his own land. “You killed someone for me. I can see how that would change your feelings.”
“That’s not it. Well, maybe it is. Maybe that’s what did it.” He turned away, paced, looked up at the sky. “Maybe it was always there anyway.”
“All right, then.” She was grateful his back was to her so he couldn’t see the way she had to squeeze her eyes tight, bite down on her lip to keep from weeping. “I understand, and I’m grateful. There’s no need to make this hard on either of us.”
“Hard, hell, that doesn’t come close.” He tucked his hands in his back pockets and contemplated the long line of fence. It was all that separated them, he mused, those thin lines of barb-edged wire. “You’ve been underfoot and causing me frustration most all of my life.”
“You’re on my land,” she shot back, wounded. “Who’s under whose feet?”
“I guess I know you better than most. I know your flaws well enough. You’ve got a bundle of them. Ornery, mean-tempered, exasperating. You’ve got brains, but your guts get in the way of them half the time. But knowing the flaws is half the battle.”
She kicked him, hard enough to make him stumble into his own horse. He picked up the hat she’d knocked off his head, brushed it over the leg of his jeans as he turned. “Now I could wrestle you down for that, and it’d probably turn into something else.”
“Just try it.”
“You see, that’s the damnedest thing.” He shook a finger at her. “That look right there, the one you’re wearing on your face right now. When I think it through, that’s the one that did it to me.”
“Did what?”
“Had me falling in love with you.”
She dropped the hammer she’d picked up to hit him with. “In what?”
“I figure you heard me the first time. You got ears like a damn alley cat.” He scratched his chin, settled his hat back into place. “I think you’re going to have to marry me, Willa. I don’t see a way around it. And I tell you, I’ve been looking.”
“Is that so?” She bent down, picked up the hammer again, and tapped it against her palm. “Have you?”
“Yeah.” He eyed the hammer, grinned. He didn’t think she’d use it. Or if she tried, he figured he’d be quick enough to avoid a concussion. “I’d have found one if there’d been a way. You know”—he started toward her, circling—“I used to think I wanted you to distraction because you were so contrary. Then when I had you, I decided I still wanted you because I didn’t know how long I’d keep you.”
“Keep coming on,” she said coolly, “and you’ll have a dent in your big head.”
He kept coming on. “Then it kept creeping up on me, why no one ever pulled at me the way you do. Ever made me miss them five minutes after I walked out the door the way you do. When you weren’t safe, I was crazy. Now that you are, I figure the only way to handle things is to marry you.”
“That’s your idea of a proposal?”
“You’ve never had better. And with your prickly attitude, you won’t get better.” He timed it, grabbed the hammer out of her hand, and tossed it over the fence. “No point in saying no, Will. I’ve got my mind set on it.”
“That’s what I’m saying.” She crossed her arms. “Until I get better.”
He sighed, heavily. He’d been afraid it would come to this. “All right, then. I love you. I want you to marry me. I don’t want to live my life without you. Will that do?”
“It’s some better.” Her heart was so full she was surprised it wasn’t spilling over. “Where’s the ring?”
“Ring? For God’s sake, Will, I don’t carry a ring around with me riding fence.” Perplexed, he pushed back his hat. “You never wear rings anyway.”
“I’ll wear the one you give me.”
He opened his mouth to complain, shut it again, and grinned. “Is that a fact?”
“That’s a fact. Damn, Ben, what took you so long?” She stepped over the wire and into his arms.
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