Enraged, she stalked over to him. "Listen. I haven't even gotten started, so you just shut up and listen. We didn't have much money. But then, a lot of people don't, and they get by. So did we. He liked to take risks, and he broke a lot of bones. There's more than manure on the rodeo circuit, more than sweat. There's desperation, too. But we got by. Things got a little interesting when I grew breasts. Men like to stare at them, or sneak a feel. Most of the guys on the circuit had known me since I was a kid, so there wasn't much trouble. I knew when to smile and when to use my elbow. I was never innocent. The way I lived, you'd better grow up knowing."
He didn't interrupt now, but sat quietly, his eyes unreadable. And her hands were cold.
"I was sixteen when I took that tumble into the hay. I wasn't innocent, but I was a virgin. I knew, but I let myself forget, because... Because he was good-looking, exciting, charming, and, of course, he told me he'd take care of everything. No one had—"
"No one had ever taken care of you before," Jared murmured.
"That's right, and I was just young and stupid enough to believe him. But I knew what I was doing, knew the chance I was taking. So I got pregnant. He didn't want me or the baby. Neither did my father. I was just like my mother, cheap, easy. He told me to get out. He might have thought differently the next day. He had a quick temper. But I wasn't cheap, and I wasn't easy, and I wanted the baby. Nobody was going to take that baby away from me. Nobody was going to tell me to be ashamed. They tried. Social services, sheriffs, state cops. Whenever they could catch me, they tried. They wanted me in the system so they could tell me how to act, how to raise my child or, better for everyone, to give him away. But that wasn't better for me, and it wasn't better for Bryan."
"No. The system's flawed, Savannah. Overburdened. But it tries."
"I didn't need it." She lashed back at him. "I got work, and I worked hard. I waited tables, I served drinks, I cleaned up slop. It didn't matter what kind of work, as long as it paid. He never went hungry. My son never went hungry, and he always had a roof over his head. He always had me. He always knew I loved him and that he came first."
"The way you never did."
"The way I never did. Whatever it took, I was going to give him a decent life. If that meant taking off most of my clothes and dancing for a bunch of howling idiots, what difference did it make? I didn't have an education, I didn't have any skills. If I'd been able to go to art school—" She bit off the thought with a furious shake of her head.
"Is that what you wanted?" He kept his voice neutral, as he would have with a fragile or high-strung witness. "To go to art school."
"It doesn't matter."
"It does matter, Savannah."
"I wanted Bryan. Everything else was secondary. You wanted to know about men. There were a few. Scores less than you've imagined, I'm sure. I wasn't dead, just driven. I never took money from them, but I took food a couple of times, and there's not much difference. And, damn you, I'm not ashamed of it. The only reason I didn't steal was because if I'd been caught, they might have taken Bryan. But I would have stolen if I'd been sure I'd have gotten away with it. I didn't know I could peddle my paintings until one of the girls at the club asked me if I'd do one of her for her boyfriend and offered me a twenty. That's when I got the idea to take Bry to New Orleans."
She was pacing the room as she spoke, her words rushed and hurried in her effort to get them out and over. But now she stopped, slowed herself. "That's all there is. At least any other, finer details escape me at the moment." She turned to him again, her face calm now, and cold. "Cross-examine, Counselor?"
"You could have taken other routes."
"Sure."
"Safer ones," he added. "Easier ones, for you."
"Maybe. I didn't want safer ones. I didn't want easier."
"What did you want, Savannah? What do you want?"
"It doesn't matter."
"It matters." He rose, but didn't go to her. "It very much matters to me."
"I want a home. I want a place where people don't look at me like I'm dirt. Where the people who think they're decent don't whisper behind their hands."
"You have that here."
"And I'm keeping it."
He had to sacrifice his pride to ask, but he discovered it wasn't so very difficult. "Do you want me?"
Taken by surprise, she only stared for a moment. "That's not the issue."
"Then maybe I should put it another way." He reached into his pocket, drew out the small box he'd tucked in it before he left the farm. After lifting the lid, he held it out. "I came here to give this to you."
The ring was a simple, traditional diamond in an outdated and lovely gold setting. Mesmerized, Savannah gaped at it before slowly stepping back.
"It was my mother's," Jared said, in a voice that betrayed none of the raw nerves inside him. "It went to me, as I'm the oldest. I'm asking you to marry me, Savannah."
She couldn't breathe. Bryan would have recognized the weight that had dropped down on her chest. "Didn't you hear anything I've just told you?"