Something passed between brother and sister before Edgar turned his gaze on Adam. "Isn't it about time you headed back to Bear Creek?"
"He's going," Breanna muttered. "Good night."
Was Adam the only one to hear the weary note in her voice?
He would've said something to her brother, only she turned toward Adam, and the light falling on her face illuminated the tiny lines bracketing her eyes. She tried to glare at him, but the effect was dull, not like the spark she'd shown earlier in the evening.
So he let her take his elbow and pull him away from the small house.
When her fingers flexed and she would've let go, he pressed his elbow into his side, trapping her hand. He'd wanted her closer all night, but not like this.
She was subdued and quiet as they walked back down the hill toward the big house. The moon was coming up, full and massive and orange on the horizon. At least he'd have some light to guide him back to town. Though he didn't want to leave her, not with the sadness wafting off her.
They crossed the yard toward the barn.
"Why didn't you tell him you put the kitten out of its misery?" he asked quietly.
Her head came up, surprise etched in the slight open of her mouth. Of course he'd known. He'd given her privacy because, at the moment, she'd seemed almost fragile.
"It wouldn't have mattered to the outcome," she whispered. "And Fran..." She turned her face away.
He waited for her to say more. Would she trust him with this?
"It was Emma's kitten," was all she said. And then, "I'm fine. It isn't as if I haven't seen death before." She gestured to the land around them.
He couldn’t remember which of the little girls was Emma. But he could guess what life as a rancher must be like. There was never a guarantee when raising animals. Sometimes a calf could be stillborn, or wild animals might attack the herd.
But it didn't mean she was immune to hurt. She was hurting now, trying to shut off herself from him.
She'd offered peace to her sister-in-law, but who would comfort her?
He turned her toward him and took her elbows in both of his hands.
"I'm fine," she repeated.
He still didn't believe her.
When she tried to shrug him off, he reeled her a step closer. He wasn't holding her overly tightly. From the stories Seb had spun earlier, he knew she could unman him if she really wanted to get free.
But her breath caught audibly. She was still fighting this thing between them.
"Tonight you saw the real Breanna," she said to his chin. "The one who does what needs doing."
I liked her. The words were on the tip of his tongue. Somehow he knew they were the wrong words.
"I saw you offer your brother's wife compassion," he said instead. "At a cost to you."
She shook her head, and her face was the same pale smudge in the moonlight.
"You don't really know me." Her whispered protest was weak, and maybe he was selfish to press his advantage at this moment. He released one elbow to cup her cheek in his hand.
"I know you've never been kissed."
He lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers.
It had been a guess, but the innocence in her kiss told him he'd guessed right.
He drew back slightly, not wanting to frighten her. Bracing for a punch.
