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"How likely?"

I told her how much money we owed.

She went still.

"The balloon payment comes due this year," I said. "We can cover interest. Maybe part of principal. Not all."

Josie looked across the valley.

"How real is it?"

"Selling?"

"Yes."

"Real."

I didn't soften it. Didn't tell her Wyatt would find a way because Wyatt might not. Didn't tell her Cash had contacts or I could work harder. We were all working as hard as bodies allowed.

"The house?" she asked.

"Part of the property."

"The barn?"

"All of it."

"And your cabin?"

I looked at her.

"Yes."

The place where her mug sat beside mine. Where Clover slept against her pillow. Where her boots had joined mine at the door.

She nodded slowly.

I reached into my coat pocket but didn't take anything out yet. "I've been thinking I couldn't ask until I fixed it."

"Fixed the mortgage?"

"Ground first. House. Work. Something certain."

Her eyes moved to my pocket, then back to my face.

"I don't have certain," I said. "Might lose the ranch. Might live somewhere I haven't built with my hands. Might take work from another man and come home tired from land that isn't mine."

The words scraped going out.

Calloway men offered provision. Fence fixed. Feed stacked. Money found. Danger handled.

I had none of it to place before her. Only the thing underneath. "I won't lie and call it protection again," I said. "And I promise I'll feed you when there's food and keep you warm wherever we sleep. I promise my hands will stay gentle—unless you want them otherwise—and my rules stay ours."

Her eyes filled.

I kept going because this was the part I had always stopped before.

"But I can't promise Carrow Creek."