Free Dancing on Dew by Leah Atwood Page A

hand over the meal.
    “Do you love him?”
    His counter-inquiry caught her off guard. “That’s none of your business.”
    “Maybe so, but it’s not a hard question to answer.” An unreadable emotion flashed in his eyes. “Tell me you love him, and I’ll leave now and send him here to share the afternoon with you.”
    She swallowed hard. Pulled between confusion, honesty, and fury, she couldn’t stop the tears that sprung from flowing.
    In an instant, Joseph stood in front of her, enveloping her in strong, comforting arms. “I’m sorry, Sissy, I never meant to make you cry.”
    How many years had she dreamt of a moment like this? Too many. She leaned into him, taking what she’d wanted for years. The fabric of his shirt was rough against her cheek, but it soothed as only an old, familiar comfort could. She drew a breath, inhaling the scent of leather and nature that clung to him. Seven years had passed, but she’d never forgotten the way he smelled, and her heart jumped to realize it hadn’t changed.
    He stroked her hair, stopping intermittently to twist and unwind strands around a finger. His breath caressed her cheek when he bent his head to whisper more apologies.
    For the past, for today, she didn’t know. All she knew was a feeling of completeness that vacated her life when he’d left Weatherton. A feeling that, no matter how hard she tried, she’d never been able to replicate with Barry.
    The thought was enough to dampen the tenderness of Joseph’s embrace. This moment was nothing more than a mirage in the romantic desert of her life. She tore away from him and put space between them.
    “What’s going on, Joseph?” She blinked away the pool of tears, refusing to give him sight of them.
    He started to reach out for her, but dropped his hands to his side. “I can’t stand the idea of Barry courting you. I know he’s the better man, but I saw him bidding for your basket, and jealously took over.”
    She took a deep breath to keep from shouting. “This is all about jealousy then, nothing more?”
    “No.” A deep sigh rumbled from his chest. “I’m fumbling this in the worst way.”
    Seeing his frustration with himself play on his face softened her heart. “Just be honest, that’s all I ask.”
    “I want us to have a second chance.”
    “Why now?” She wrapped her arms around her waist. “You broke my heart once before, and it’s still hard to accept that you left me, but I pushed forward in life anyway. Then, I came to you last month and offered friendship, and you pushed me away.”
    “I’m sorry about that day. From the bottom of my heart, I never wanted to hurt you.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them. “Before I tell you more, please know that I loved Clara. Even knowing how our life turned out, I wouldn’t go back in time and undo my marriage to her.” Pausing, his throat bopped when he swallowed. “Since I’ve returned to Weatherton, since I’ve come home, I’ve rediscovered who I am. In that process, I’ve moved beyond my grief and accepted my life as it is now, and the return to my roots. The man who I was in Chicago, that wasn’t the real me, if that makes sense.”
    “It does.” Her eyes traveled the length of him, taking in his denim pants and chambray shirt. A black Stetson rested atop his head. She tried picturing him in the city, wearing a coat and vest every day, and a derby hat to replace the Stetson but couldn’t. “You belong outdoors, working the land and cattle. It’s who you are.”
    His eyes lit with appreciation. “You get it. You understand me in a way that Clara never did. We had a good marriage, and despite our differences, we had a deep love and respect for each other. When Gloria came along that love grew even stronger. However, sometimes I wonder if I’d met her under different terms—if she’d just moved here instead of me to Chicago—would she have still loved me?”
    She took a few seconds to compose her