She wasn’t scared of him.
She was scared of rules. Of judgment. Of punishment.
Like even lying there half-dead in the grass, she was still afraid of what it meant for a rancher’s hands to be on her—afraid somebody might call it wrong even if he was trying to save her life.
Jake swallowed, slow.
“All right,” he murmured, voice gentle like he was calming a skittish mare. “All right. I hear you.”
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