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He blinked at me, stunned mute.
“So, there you have it.” I splayed out a hand after a moment of silence. “I love you.”
Concern marred his expression, and he opened his mouth. I knew he would dispute my claim—which was another irritating quality of his I was willing to look past—so I cut in with, “And please don’t start on all that you’ll-hate-me bullshit again. I love you. Right now, right here. And even if you end up being right—which you won’t—it won’t negate how I feel for you at this exact moment.”
Something that looked suspiciously like hope flooded his features. His cheeks colored and he heaved in air, nodding mutely as he processed my claim.
“No one’s ever said it to me before you,” he finally replied, his voice low and humbled.
My brow furrowed. “Not even your mother?” I asked. “Nor your sister, Sable?”
He seemed suddenly so young and innocent. “If they did love me, it was an unspoken thing. But I—”
I shifted my horse closer to his. “Yes?”
He lifted his gaze to me, his eyes full of gratitude and yearning. “I find I like hearing it aloud.”
“Then I’ll endeavor to say it out in the open more often.”
Farrow didn’t answer. He didn’t offer me the same claim, but I was willing to wait.
I knew he had to be get
ting close, even if he wasn’t quite there yet. What he did do, however, was trot on ahead of me and begin to whistle softly under his breath. I grinned, deciding that was close enough for now.
We didn’t pause for lunch but ate on horseback, only taking brief respites for chamber pot breaks and to give the horses small rests. At one point, we saw other riders heading toward us, moving slower than we were.
Farrow immediately reached for his hatchet, but I held up a hand.
“Easy,” I cautioned. “They might not want any more trouble than we do.”
He nodded and lowered the hatchet to his side, out of sight, but remained tense. To be on the safe side, I slid my own hand into my saddle bags and wrapped my fingers around the cold, cot, or whatever freaking name it had been given.
Seriously, what had Indigo—Oh! Right. A Colt. That was it.
The other group—two women and a man with a small child—entered a clearing in the trees at the same moment we did. They seemed surprised to see us, but the man tipped his hat to Farrow, and both parties kept riding directly past each other. I made eye contact with the little girl in pigtails and waved at her, delighted when she shyly waved back.
As soon as the others had passed and Farrow and I were once again alone, I pulled out the Colt and held it up proudly. “I finally remembered,” I announced. “It’s a Colt. A Colt thirty-two pocket pistol, model 1903.”
Farrow burst out laughing. Then he shook his head and sent me an amused glance. “Has forgetting the name of that thing bothered you this entire time?”
“Yes! It’s been driving me crazy,” I burst out. “I hate forgetting what something’s called. And I do it constantly.”
“I forgot the word for wheat flour once,” he admitted. “My sister arched that one eyebrow she always lifts when she’s confused and wants to hide it, and she looked at me as if I’d lost my mind before she told me I needed a nap.”
I slapped a hand over my mouth when my amusement made me snort. “Is Sable older or younger than you?” I could never tell from the way he talked about her.
He went suddenly somber. Then he cleared his throat and offered me a tense smile. “Younger,” he said. Pain filled his eyes as the smile turned nostalgic. “She’s a dozen years younger, yet she acts like the older sibling most of the time.”
“You love her very much,” I decided, watching his face. “Don’t you?”
His lashes fluttered. “Yes. Very much.”
Jealousy rolled over me. I wished he could admit the same thing to me. But it was too soon, I knew. Love didn’t come at the same speed for everyone. I could be patient for his.
As rash and impetuous as I was, this I could wait for, because it’d be worth it.
He would come to love me, too; I was certain of that. If it took me the rest of my life, I’d get him to love me enough to admit it. I knew there were feelings in him—strong feelings for me—but just not enough to be all-consuming yet, I guess.
