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She was right. He had a brick. Hell, he had more than one. Sure, there were some things that were difficult, but it was nothing compared to what she had been through.

“How much time have you actually spent in jail?”

She scrunched up her face. “The longest time was three weeks. Quite a few overnight stays. Mostly in the drunk tank. I wasn’t drunk. Just holding on to me until they decided whether or not to let me go. But I’ve had a couple of six-week sentences that ultimately got reduced.”

“The threat of prison never deterred you from doing anything?”

“No,” she said casually. “I really wouldn’t have been stealing things if it didn’t feel necessary. So the threat of prison always felt like a more abstract worry than not having what I needed in the moment. And you have no idea how many times I got away with it versus how many times I got caught.” She cleared her throat. He could have sworn he saw tears shining in her eyes. “The worst thing that I ever did was there was this old woman, and she had twenty dollars sticking out of her purse. I walked slowly by her shopping cart, and I snagged the twenty dollars.” She cleared her throat again. “About ten minutes later the old woman caught up to me, and she handed me another twenty-dollar bill. She said if I needed the first one that bad I probably needed a second one too.” She tried to laugh, but it sounded forced. “I told you, I’ve heard basicallyevery version of the good news out there. That was the only version of it that felt all that compelling to me. There was no reason for her to be that kind to me. That was about six months before you found me. It was right before my dad and my brother went to prison. I kept the forty dollars for myself. I didn’t share it with them. The way that woman treated me made me want to be different. But then they went to jail, and I was left by myself, and I didn’t feel like I had the choice. But every time I would get tempted to steal something, anywhere, I remembered her kindness. And I just... I would rather be her than my dad. But I’ve never gotten to a place where I felt like I could be.” She took a shuddering breath. “Scarcity makes you so mean. Even when you wish you could be kind.”

“It’s not just scarcity for some people. My dad never had that excuse. He was just mean. You know how you can tell you’re not that person?”

“How?”

“Look how different you are now that you don’t have to worry about where your next meal is coming from.”

She said nothing for a while. “Do you think that you’re different?”

He grunted. “The problem with me is that it was never about desperation. It was about trying to please the wrong person. It was about having an entirely wrongheaded view of the world.”

She shrugged. “Many people would say that I have a wrongheaded view of the world, Daughtry. Antipaperwork as I am.”

“Listen, I don’t agree with you, not on everything. But when you talk about the way that life has worked for you, and why, I can definitely understand why you don’t like how certain things function. I can certainly appreciate how difficult it is for you to try to earn money when you don’t have it.”

“Well. Listen. I might feel justified in brewing moonshine still. Even if I know I can’t justify stealing money out of old ladies’ purses.”

“Fair.”

The breeze flared up, and her dress tightened around her hips, coming up on her thighs. She was a lot more shapely now that she had regular meals. It looked good on her. Everything about her looked good.

He practically wanted to get in a fistfight with himself.

He didn’t know how to reconcile his desire to protect her, his admiration for her, with the attraction that now had him in a choke hold.

And he realized that all of his hesitance when it came to her was about trying to minimize her.

Trying to make her less than a woman. Trying to treat her like she was a charity case, always and forever. Because if he had met her in a bar and he had thought she was this beautiful, he would want to do something about it.

Well. There was that. There was also the fact that she lived on the ranch.

And when he had told her he didn’t do relationships, he had meant it.

And whatever decision he made, it could be about his own issues. But it wasn’t fair to make it about her. She was strong. And if she knew...

Well, if she knew that he was checking her out she might reiterate that she thought of him as cardboard.

But if he told her that the only reason he wasn’t making a move on her was because he was afraid that she couldn’t handle it, she would probably pull a switchblade on him.

“So if you give the speech at the town hall, what are you going to say?”

“You should invest in this beer because you’ll be an idiot if you don’t?”

“Listen, I think it’s excellent,” he said. “But maybe if you don’t call everybody idiots...”

“I was under the impression that was how Denver handled things.”

“We try not to encourage it.”

“Are you and Denver still in a fight?” she asked.