I should have sent you away the day you arrived. This place, it destroys soft things. And now he will drag your name through the mud to get to me. He turned back to the window, gripping the frame. Maybe he is right.
Maybe we should sell. I could get you a ticket to San Francisco. You could start over where no one knows. Maggie looked at his back. She saw the defeat there.
He was trying to save her by sending her away. He thought she was fragile. He thought she was a victim who needed to be hidden. She looked out at the horizon. The first stars were piercing the violet sky.
It went on forever. It was a land that demanded everything you had. And if you held anything back, it killed you. It's too big. She whispered.
Eli froze. His heart hammered a painful rhythm against his ribs. There it was. The admission. She was breaking.
It was too big, too hard, too cruel. She was going to leave him. The thought tore through him with a violence that shocked him. He had told himself he didn't need her, that she was just a partner. But the idea of the house without her quiet presence was suddenly unbearable.
He turned slowly, bracing himself. "I know," he said hoarsely. "I know it is. You don't have to stay, Maggie. I won't hold you to a promise made in ignorance. " Maggie turned to face him.
Her eyes were not filled with tears. They were filled with a fierce, burning light he had never seen before. No, Eli, that is not what I mean. She took a step closer to him. I mean the life, she said, her voice gaining strength.
The work, the danger. It is too big for one man to carry. You're trying to carry it all. The debt, the ranch, the guilt. Me.
You are trying to stand between me and the world like I am a glass doll. I am your husband, Eli said. It is my duty. Duty be damned. She snapped.
Eli blinked, stunned. I do not need a protector, Eli. I had a protector in New York. He protected me right into a living hell. She took a breath, her hands clenching into fists at her sides.