Page 49 of The Cowboy's Best Friend

If these last few weeks proved anything, it was that Boone really was every bit as intense and overwhelming as she’d known he would be when they were still basically kids. When she never would have used the wordnuclearto describe him.

Now she knew that it fit.

He not only physically took up so much space. He not only claimed every part of her body when he touched her. But he was everything else, too. Their dairy business was booming and he insisted that they were partners. They made a terrific team. It would be so easy to fall head over heels and tumble straight into whateverforeverlooked like, just the two of them, letting all of this immensity claim her once and for all.

She could feel herself putting the brakes on in self-defense, even just thinking about it.

But tonight she had to ask herself what she was actually afraid of. Were those her brakes? Were they what she wanted? Or were they left over from when she let everyone else drive her around?

Her parents processed into the stuffy dining room at the appointed hour and she followed, thinking aboutbrakesandpulling back—thoughts that felt a lot like the same ones she distinctly remembered having as a teenager. But as she took her usual seat and waited for her mother to dish out the tiny portions of the meal they were sharing, she found herself biting back laughter.

Because what on earth was she saving herself from? More to the point—who was she saving herselffor?

“I don’t know what you’re snickering about,” her mother said, admonishing her.

“I was thinking about having my cake and eating it too, Mom,” Sierra said, and let herself laugh out loud. Somehow, that did not make the dining room crumble into ash all around her the way she’d always imagined it would if desecrated with any inkling of joy. “For once.”

Mary Catherine let out a huff of air, as if she could hold herself back no longer. She made a point of catching Sierra’s eye and holding it.

“I think you’ve had quite enough cake, Sierra,” she said.

It was meant as a slap, there was denying it, but this time it didn’t quite land. Sierra didn’t feel it the way she was meant to. The way she would have a few months ago. There was some noise from her father’s end of the table and Sierra was tempted to look that way to see how he was going to spin this into somethingnotas vicious as it clearly was, but her mother was too busy putting on one of her virtuoso performances.

“Don’t try to silence me, Kenneth,” she cried. “This is our daughter. If we won’t tell her the truth, who will?” That was melodrama at its finest, but then so was the way she turned to gaze at Sierra again. “You’ve gotten quite heavy, Sierra. The last thing on earth you should be thinking about is cake. I’ve always warned you that no one likes a chubby girl. Especially not one who’sdivorced.”

Sierra thought two things at once. First, that she was not, in fact, chubby. Second, and more importantly, it wouldn’t matter if she was.

“False,” she replied calmly and cut herself a generous piece of steak she assumed her father had grilled. “Boone likes me just fine.”

“That’s enough,” her father chimed in then, as if Sierra had said something filthy.

Sierra swallowed, and leaned in. She even dared to put her elbows on the table—another shocking breach of good manners that, as a child, she’d truly believed would level the house.Etiquette is everything, her consistently rude mother had always lectured her.

Funny how clear everything seemed these days. She held Mary Catherine’s gaze. “What I’d like to know, Mom, is why it’s so important to you to shrink. To be tiny. Why is that the only thing you think about?”

She could hear Boone in her head.Don’t ever make yourself small on my account.It made her feel… expansive. Or maybe that was just another word forfree.

“I know that everyone is running around these days pretending that any kind of body shape is just fine,” her mother replied, shrilly. “But it’s not. A trim figure is an indication of self-control. A higher purpose. It is a woman’s calling card, to indicate that she’s not…” Mary Catherine seemed at a loss. Or maybe she was trying to be delicate, but then she failed. “Some kind of slovenly glutton.”

Once upon a time, not very long ago at all, this would have killed Sierra. She would have been humiliated. Ashamed.

And it occurred to her for the first time that her mother was talking about herself. That these negative thoughts and this insistence on starving herself was Mary Catherine’s cross to bear. Not Sierra’s.

Not unless she went and picked it up again.

But she wasn’t that person anymore.

She took her napkin from her lap and placed it beside her plate.

“This will be the final time that we discuss my body in this house,” she told her mother. She looked over at her father, then back at Mary Catherine, letting her words sink in. Then she kept going before they could jump in. “Or anything involving my personal life, unless it is kind. If you don’t have anything kind to say, I suggest you stick to the topics that you can manage to discuss unemotionally. That appears to be the national news, your wine club, and whatever it is you think the neighbors are doing with their shrubbery. But I’m off limits to you.”

Mary Catherine was sputtering. “Don’t be ridiculous. You are ourdaughter.”

“I am,” Sierra agreed. “And for the first time in a very long while, I’m happy. I’m doing work that I find fulfilling.” She ignored the sound her father made at that. He was the one who’d pressured her to join his office. She’d given in on that, too. “I’m living in a place that feels like home. And yes, I’m with a man who actually sees me for me and loves me exactly as I am, the way he always has. I’m not going to apologize for that. And if you want to discuss it, you’re going to have to learn to do it while I’m not in the room. Or I’ll never be in a room with you again.”

“Don’t be absurd, Sierra—” her father began.

“This is not a debate.” Sierra pushed her chair back and stood up. “You have one more chance. Our next dinner is supposed to be on Labor Day. If you can’t behave, I’m not coming back.”

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