David was quiet as they drove the short distance from the commune to the ranch next door. Jules had never been on the property. She’d driven past it plenty of times over the years. The main difference was the number of cows that dotted the green pastures where crops and colorful dwellings dotted her homeland.
The light of the moon shone the way as they drove up to the big house. There weren't near as many houses on this ranch as there were on the commune. Far fewer people as well. She felt a stab of disappointment that David hadn't gotten to visit the nightly bonfire on the commune. But Paris’s words hung in her mind. Would anyone ever accept him on the land?
She'd always thought of the people of her home as the most open-minded, the most compassionate, the most accepting of differences. And they were. Except when it came to the Vances and how they treated the land.
David wasn't a farmer. He wasn't even a rancher. He was a friend, helping out another friend. He didn't even understand the meaning of the word organic, or vegan for that matter. Was he willing to learn? When he did, would he take her side? Was the thought of making him take aside a problematic way of thinking?
Jules let out a long sigh. Before she’d extinguished all the air in her lungs, she felt warmth kindling in the palm of her hands. David had reached for her hand. He’d engulfed her fingers with his own. At that moment, Jules knew there were no sides. There were only the two of them, standing together, back to back, face to face or side by side to take on whatever may come at them.
Jules looked over at the man who she had changed her entire world for. She wasn't sure what the future held for them, but she knew that being by his side was the right decision. She would give her family and friends time. They would come around. They had to.
At the end of the long drive, David put the car in park. He turned to her with a wary smile. He looked as tired as she felt. The wound beneath his eye was turning a darker shade.
"You alright?" he asked.
"I'm fine," she said, proud her voice held no sign of trembling, unlike her fingers. “We should get that looked at."
She lifted her hand to his face. David caught her fingers before she could touch his eye. He pressed a kiss to each of her five digits.
"Brenda will have some raw meat in the fridge. That and some ice is all it will take."
"I don't understand what you want meat for. Or ice for that matter? You need a warm compress with arnica."
“That sounds like poison,” he grinned, brushing her fingertips over his bottom lip.
“Only if you ingest it.” Jules watched her fingertips as they glided across his mouth. She wanted to take her hands away and replace them with her mouth.
"Is this our first argument?” David asked, nipping at her index finger. “How to handle the wound your boyfriend just gave me?"
“Paris was never my boyfriend. He wanted more. I didn’t. I should’ve said something a long time ago, but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.“
"I'm just messing with you.” David pressed her hand to his heart. It leaped the moment her fingers touched his chest. “I don't blame Frenchie."
"His name is Paris." Jules grinned up at David, getting instantly lost in those dark eyes. What were they talking about?
"I'd knock out any guy who tried to come between you and me." David brushed a kiss against her forehead. Then over her eyelid. Then on each cheek. “If he comes at me again, I will knock him across the country."
Jules pulled away from her husband. She set her mouth to tell him that she did not condone violence. But the strength in his tone did something to her belly. It called her a liar.
She was certain she didn’t want to see Paris hurting any more than he was. But she liked the idea of David using his strong body to protect her. She was moments away from being fully introduced to her husband’s body. They just needed to get out of this truck and to his room. Oh, and there was that matter with his bruise that needed tending to first.
David let go of her hand to climb out of his truck. She watched as he made his way around to her, enjoying the way his long legs ate up the ground to get to her. When he reached her in just a few strides, Jules voiced something that had niggled her on the drive over.
“Paris said you were a glutton for female attention,” she said when David had opened the door for her.
David reached into the cab of the truck. He put his hands on her hips and lifted her out as though she weighed nothing. “I told you I’d dated a lot.”
“And now you’re done with that.” Jules wrapped her arms around his neck as he pulled her against him, holding her just off the ground.
“Yes.” He held her so that her head was just a hair higher than his. He gazed up at her as though she was the sun and moon and stars combined.
It took Jules a moment to find her voice. “Why me?”
“You know why?” He held her against him with one hand. With the other, he brushed a stray lock back behind her ear. “You feel it too.”
She nodded. The spark had grown into a fire between them. With each moment they spent close to one another, it blazed ever brighter. She started to wonder if it would burn them someday.
"Come on," he said, carefully setting her feet on the ground. "Let's get you inside."
They walked hand in hand. They were nearer to the side of the house, so they rounded to the back. As they approached, Jules heard voices. She smelled something sweet in the air. It was an unfamiliar scent mixed with the familiar smell of burning wood and charcoal.
So, the Vance Ranch had bonfires of their own. That settled her anxiety. There would be some familiarity with this bunch.
And then she saw it.
People were gathered around a fire, much like the nightly bonfires on the commune. But unlike the bonfires where people sat with musical instruments on their laps, and others danced around the blaze, there was something in this fire.
Speared on a stake was the carcass of a pig. Its sightless eyes stared at her accusingly. Men poked at it with a stick and sharp knives.
“Hey, Porco, we made your favorite.”
Porco raised his free hand and waved. Jules placed her free hand over her mouth to stifle the guttural scream that ached to rise. All laughter around the bonfire faded when they saw her.
“What’s she doing here?”
Jules had never met Brenda Vance in person, but she’d seen the woman many times. Brenda rose from her seat and advanced on the two of them. The female rancher looked anything but welcoming.
The fight had gone out of Jules. She was feeling far too queasy watching the animal turning and burning on the fire. “I need to lie down,” she said to David.