I twist my wedding ring until the skin beneath burns, yet the only thing that quiets the old scandal is Edmund's voice telling me to bend. The ledgers lie open on the counter between us, and the door to the street stands ajar. Anyone could walk in and see the sheriff's wife made to obey.

He does not touch me yet. His hand hovers just above the fabric at my waist, and the shame of what he might do next curls hot inside me. I should step back. Instead I grip the edge of the table and hold my breath, waiting for the moment his palm meets bare skin and decides whether we keep the ranch or lose everything to the eyes of the town.