Chapter Five – Standing Up
He planted one boot firmly into the dirt.
Then he rose.
The low angle of the afternoon light made the movement look larger than it was.
His leather vest shifted against his shirt as he straightened to his full height. The gun belt at his waist settled against his hip. The knife remained visible in his hand.
The woman stood opposite him, still studying the marks on her wrists.
Neither spoke.
Behind them, the wooden structures of the town stood silent beneath the sun.
Open porches.
Dry boards.
Empty windows.
A place built to look permanent in a country where everything seemed temporary.
The cowboy looked toward the street.
Then toward her.
“You should leave.”
She lowered her hands.
“Is that what you’re doing?”
“No.”
“Then why should I?”
“Because they want you.”
“And now?”
He understood the question.
Now they wanted him too.
He exhaled.
“That complicates things.”
She tilted her head.
“You regret it?”
He looked down at the rope.
Then back at her.
“No.”
The answer came faster than either expected.
Something passed between them.
Not trust.
Not yet.
But perhaps the first condition required for it.
