Mel's Arc

Chapter 13 of 36

The market talk settled by midweek. The valley knew now: Mel Harrison chose the poor cowboy. But knowing wasn't the same as being with him. Mel had spent two seasons chasing a man across a distance. She had learned to want from far off, to plan and pine. She had never once stood beside someone as his. She didn't know how. Ted asked her to ride out Sunday. He packed a basket and a folded blanket behind his saddle. They took the black horse to a flat spot by the water. He spread the blanket, set out bread and cheese and a tin cup, and sat down easy. Mel stayed standing. Her hands felt useless. For two seasons her feelings had a job—reach him, win him, cross the gap. Now there was no gap. She kept waiting for something to chase. "Sit," Ted said. He patted the blanket. "You're hovering like you owe rent." She sat, stiff. "I don't know what to do." "Eat a peach." "No. I mean this." She waved at the blanket, the food, him. "I know how to want a man who's not looking. I don't know how to just—sit next to one who is." Ted set down the cup. He didn't laugh. "Then stop wanting me," he said. "You've got me. Wanting's over." The words hit strange. She'd built herself around the reaching. If she stopped, what was left? "What do I do instead?" she asked. "Nothing." He tore the bread and handed her half. "You quit performing. You tell me a true thing. Small one." Mel looked at the water. She tried to think of something to win with, then let it go. "I burned the eggs this morning. Twice. My brother laughed at me." Ted grinned. "See. That's it. That's the whole thing." "That's nothing." "That's everything. Chasing, you only show a man your best face. This"—he tapped the blanket—"is the burned eggs. You let me see them, you're my partner. You hide them, you're still running." Mel felt the truth of it settle. All this time she'd aimed to impress. She'd dressed her feelings up like a dance gown. Ted didn't want the gown. He wanted the girl who scorched her breakfast. She leaned back on her hands. Her shoulders dropped. For the first time in two seasons, she wasn't reaching for anything. "Tell me a true thing back," she said. "I was scared you'd never quit chasing him," Ted said. "Even after the market." "I'm done chasing." She meant it. "I'm just here." He took her hand across the blanket. They ate. She let the quiet stay quiet. She didn't fill it, didn't plan, didn't work to win him. She had won. Now she only had to stay. Riding home, Mel felt light. But a new worry crept in. Being Ted's partner meant her family and his becoming one. And the Caldwells, slighted at the market, would not stay silent when two small ranches joined hands.