A/N: Posted on the same day as chapter 2, so be sure to read that first! As always, thanks for reading and reviewing!

December 1926

As the months went on, her earlier caution against bootlegging gave way to the thrill of driving out across the state line to pick up shipments. Sam told her as they got deeper into winter, they might even drive out on the lake. Though, Sam never gave her anything to do when they weren't on a run, and idle hands made her nervous. Sometimes, she worried that he might cut her if she didn't find something to earn her keep—but every night, he either simply tapped the seat next to him or let her drive them out to their pick up point.

One night, she brought supplies and made a stew for all of the boys working out back. When Sam saw her in the kitchen, he leaned on the door frame, watching her with a look of joy etched on his face. "And what's going on in here?"

She had just prepared a loaf of bread cooking in the oven now, which left her a little dusty. She was sure to do this before changing for the evening. Of course, he was smiling at her. She probably looked ridiculous.

"Well, since we didn't have a run tonight, I thought I'd make supper for everyone."

"Everyone? Who's everyone?"

"The boys are going to work all night on an empty stomach. In this weather, I thought some food to keep them warm would be nice."

His smile faded a little bit. "I think so, too. It smells delicious."

Before she took the food out back, Sam insisted that they eat first.

"Let's eat here." He handed her bowls before sitting down at the head of the table.

"We could just eat in the bar with the guys. I made plenty for everyone!"

"Or we could just eat here like I want." He touched her cheek. "I'd like to share this meal you just made with you."

She shrugged and started portioning stew into their bowls. She placed his bowl and a chunk of bread in front of him. "Is there something else I can get you before I sit down?"

"No. Just get your food."

He waited for her to sit before taking his first bite. "Mmm! This is delicious, sweetheart."

"I'm glad you like it." He cleared his bowl before she was half way through with hers. "Would you like some more?"

"Yes, please." She nodded before getting up to get him seconds. "Do you like to cook, Teresa?"

She felt herself blush a bit as she returned to the table. "I do like to cook when it's not rushed. I don't like the pressure of hungry people waiting to eat." Or her papa screaming that his lazy daughter was starving them all.

"Hmm. Well, you're a very good cook."

She smiled. "This wasn't that tough to make! If you'd like, I can start making a meal on the nights we don't have a run."

He nodded. "I'd like that very much. Now, I wouldn't have you cooking for all of the boys, but I wouldn't mind sharing a meal with you."

He didn't seem pleased that she made dinner for the boys. "Oh. I thought with the weather turning that it would be a nice gesture. I hope I didn't do anything wrong."

"Oh no, sweetheart! I think it's very nice that you're looking out for them. You have a very kind heart. I just wouldn't have you cooking so much each night. Just keep it small for us. We can eat before we go out back."

She nodded in agreement. For some reason, he acted strange about the boys and how they were around her sometimes. Over the last few months, she got to know the two who worked the door: Wayne and Kimball. Wayne was funny, and sometimes, he talked about his sweetheart Grace. Kimball was much more quiet, but he would open up a bit occasionally. They reminded her a lot of her brothers, especially when they found a topic to bicker over. The others weren't so friendly to her, and she thought it could be that they resented her for not pulling her weight. They seemed to joke and play around a lot, but whenever she was around they wanted nothing to do with her. If this is how she made guys react to her, she shuddered to think what would happen when she got serious about finding a suitor. Was there something wrong with her?

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A few weeks went by. When they didn't have a run, she started taking supper with Sam before they went to the bar. He complimented everything she made and always asked for seconds. When Sam was busy, she continued to talk to Wayne and Kimball, who both started to act like the other guys around her. They were polite, but they were much more curt in how they spoke to her.

"Hey guys."

"Hi, Miss Lisbon."

"Why does everyone insist on calling me that? It's just Teresa! We're the same age!"

Kimball shrugged. "Mr. Bosco insists that we do."

Wayne looked nervous. "He's also not really big on us talking to you."

She scoffed. "What? That's ridiculous! We all work here just the same. Is that why the other guys don't talk to me much?"

Kimball's eyebrows shot up. "You work here?"

"Yes. Why else do you think I show up here four times a week and get my wages?"

Kimball wore a surprised look as he turned to Wayne, who spoke. "Look, Miss Lisbon, maybe you should go back inside and wait for Mr. Bosco to get done with whatever he's working on."

Wayne tried to direct her back inside, but she put her hand up to stop him. "Wait. You guys don't think I work here?"

Wayne and Kimball looked at each other uncomfortably. Kimball answered. "Not until you said that you did."

Wayne elbowed him. "Stay out of it. Please, Miss Lisbon, will you go inside and wait for Mr. Bosco?"

"Ok, why are you acting so strange? If you don't want to talk to me, just say that. I show up for work and put on my uniform the same as you!"

"Your uniform?" Catching a glare from Wayne, Kimball continued anyway. "What? This isn't weird to you?"

"It's not our business. I can't lose this job."

She furrowed her brows. "Guys, what's going on?"

"Why do you think we have a uniform?"

"Well, Mr. Bosco bought you those suits. I know I change here, but it's because my papa doesn't know I work here. He'd probably kill me if he ever saw me dressed this way. Mr. Bosco provided these to me for appearances, just like you guys."

Wayne's eyes were wide as Kimball exhaled sharply. Wayne rubbed his forehead before he spoke. "Miss Lisbon, these aren't uniforms. We bought these suits. Mr. Bosco required them before we could begin work. Maybe you should just go back inside."

"Seriously, guys. What's going on?"

Wayne turned away, rubbing the back of his head and shaking his head at Kimball.

"Have you ever been courted?"

"No, but what does that have to do with anything?"

Kimball nodded his head. "Everything. Mr. Bosco is courting you."

She laughed from her belly, making her double over. "No, he's not! Seriously, I work here."

Kimball furrowed his eyebrows. "You think you work here, but what do you actually do here?"

Her grin faded as she absorbed his words. She didn't actually do much of anything besides going on runs, and even then, she just drove part of the way out sometimes. She started to think about everything as her stomach dropped. Mr. Bosco had told her it would be nice to have her company and insisted she call him by his first name. No one else called him by his first name.

"You guys think he's courting me? I...I never consented to courting! He never asked to court me! I don't know where you get your information from, but…"

"You wanted to know why we are so proper around you. Boss has expectations about how his lady is treated. He doesn't like when men are lingering around you." Oh God. Fight night. He'd been so angry with Luther for joking around and not calling her Miss Lisbon. He took it as a flirtation. It's why the other guys felt uncomfortable around her. He told them that he was courting her!

She couldn't even look at Wayne and Kimball as she turned on her heel. What they must think of her! How could she be so foolish? He was paying her $100 a week and buying her gifts for her company—and women who did that work had a title too. She felt a tear fall as she realized that if she was so foolish that she let a man treat her like a whore that maybe her papa was right about her.

She heard him call out for her, but she didn't stop. She went all the way to the front house to get changed into her regular clothes.

"Teresa! Is something wrong?" He was outside of the changing room.

"I'm going home!" She sniffled trying to hold her tears back.

"Did something happen at home? Are your brothers ok?"

"I don't know. I quit!"

"You quit? Teresa, what's wrong? Will you come out and talk to me please?"

"I'd rather not."

"Sweetheart, please. I want to know what has you so upset."

He called her "sweetheart." He called her that a lot, just like he touched her often. She didn't think anything of it, but maybe she should have known by how often he called her that or the softness that he spoke to her with that he didn't use with the guys. She should've known when he touched her! She thought he was just being kind, but Mr. Minnelli never treated her that way. Papa was probably right about her being simpleminded and no good; Mr. Bosco must have surely picked up on that and found her easy pickings.

"I don't want to talk to you. I just want to go home."

She sat in the changing room for a few minutes trying to dry her eyes, hoping he'd leave. He knocked on the door before opening it an inch and startling her.

"Teresa, are you decent? I want to make sure you're ok."

"I'm decent. I'll be going."

He came inside and stood in front of the door. "What's wrong? What's gotten you so upset?" He reached for her face and she shrugged away from him.

"You!"

"Me? Wha...what did I do?"

"What did you do? You lied to me, and you tricked me!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Really? Are you going to keep up this ruse? Am I the only one who didn't know that this arrangement is some lousy attempt at courting me and not a real job?"

"Oh."

"And that's what you have to say! I'm going home, and I'm not ever coming back here!"

"Teresa, no. Just let me explain please."

"Let you explain? What is there to explain? How you got a good laugh over me being completely clueless? Pardon me!"

"No. You're not leaving until we talk. I'm not letting you leave here like this. We need to talk this out."

"Talk what out?"

He reached for her arm and pulled her to the sofa. "Teresa, I'm sorry. I can explain if you let me."

"Explain how you made me look like a fool?"

"You're not a fool."

"I certainly feel like one thanks to you. I've never been so humiliated in my life!" She was tearful again. "That's why the guys don't like me. They think you're courting me, and they probably think I'm the kind of woman who sells herself."

He sighed as he placed his hand on her back. "No one thinks that! I just gave them a talking to and made sure they understood the respect they're meant to show you. No one knows I give you a wage except me and you. You're so strong and independent and proud. I wanted to help you out, but I knew you'd never accept my help if I offered it."

"Help me out?"

"Your old man drinks away money he doesn't even have. I see how you struggle, and you shouldn't have to, sweetheart. I don't want you to struggle. I want to provide for you."

"You have no right to decide that! Or judge my family! Just because we are going through hard times right now doesn't mean you can...use me! Especially without my consent!" Perhaps that wasn't the strongest point, but he didn't even have the courage to say what he wanted from her!

"And I never thought anything like that, sweetheart."

"Stop calling me that! You paid me money to keep you company and make you feel man enough to say you're courting me when you're not!"

"I knew you'd refuse my help, so I offered you a job where all you had to do was spend time with me. I...I wanted to impress you. I thought maybe you could get to know me and come to see me as a man who would make a worthy husband and provider, not just 'Mr. Bosco.' I know I'm a little older, so you see me as a businessman, but I wanted you to see me as a man who would care for you and treat you well."

"I-how old are you?"

"I'm 35. That's not so old, is it?"

She gasped as her mouth dropped. "You're old enough to be my papa! My papa is only 36!" No, she would be leaving.

He chuckled lightly. "Well, it's a good thing I'm not your papa then, isn't it? Come on, Teresa! We have a good time together. Before I ever spent a minute alone with you here, I knew how special you are. I love our little conversations, and I wanted to get to know you more. You're the most beautiful woman in the neighborhood. Every minute I spend with you, I see how incredible you are and what a kind heart you have. I'm more in love every second. I want a life with you."

As he looked at her with his eyes wide, she really didn't know how to respond to this revelation. He didn't seem like he was crazy or speaking with ill intent. Still, her instinct was to run all the way home. She had no clue what she would do when she got there. Was it possible to die from embarrassment?

"Mr. Bosco, I don't feel the same way. I took this job because I wanted, and expected, to work. I wish you were honest about your intentions, and I would have said no from the beginning."

"That's why I didn't say anything. You don't know this, and maybe I'm not supposed to admit it, but you scare the hell out of me. I was terrified that you would reject me outright, that you wouldn't take the opportunity to get to know me better and to see what I'm offering you. You deserve the world, and I want to give you everything."

"I should go."

"No, not like this. I'm sorry that I wasn't up front with my intentions. I didn't mean to deceive you. I just hoped I could show you what kind of man I am because I'm very serious about this. Will you tell me how to make this work? What do you need from me to make this work for you?"

She scoffed. "Nothing! I'm really not interested!"

"I know you don't have other prospects." Was a man her papa's age the only man who would ever be interested in her?

"That doesn't make a difference. I'm still not interested." Speaking of, she should apologize to Luther for the misunderstanding now that she understood exactly what it was. Maybe if they were on good terms he might be interested.

"Tell me how to get your interest. I love you, and I'll do whatever it takes to get your interest. I want to court you, Teresa."

How could he love her? She had never given him the impression that she was interested in anything like that! None of this made any sense!

"What you could have done is approach this situation in a way that didn't make me look a fool."

"You're not a fool! Teresa, please. I just want to be with you. You're beautiful, and I enjoy spending time with you. I can see a future for us. Will you give me a chance to make this right?"

A future? She sat there silently. She refused to answer his question. She'd been as plain as day that she wanted to leave and have no part in any of this.

"I just want to take care of you."

She furrowed her eyebrows but didn't look at or respond to him. She was more concentrated on trying to leave and determining whether she could out run him. If she got home to her brothers, she would be safe.

"I own your house."

Her head shot up. "What?!"

"I bought it to surprise you. Like I said, I hate watching you struggle and worry so much."

"So what does that mean?"

"Nothing."

"Oh please. You'll put us on the streets if I don't agree, won't you?"

"No. I'd like you to agree because you're willing to give me a chance. I'd like you to keep coming here. I'll continue paying your wages."

"What else?"

"I'd like you to consider this an official courtship."

She scoffed. She was beyond angry. "Anything else? Would you like to make me your slave?"

"Nothing like that, sweetheart. I'm sorry I deceived you, but you know the truth now. I want you to get to know me as a man. When the time is right for us, I'd like to marry you."

"You're blackmailing me. If I don't let you court me, you'll kick us out of our home!"

"Teresa...I have no such intentions. Your happiness means everything to me. I want you to give me a chance to make you happy and see that I wouldn't do anything to hurt you. I'm not your father."

"You love kicking my papa almost as much as you love serving him whiskey until he can't stand."

"His problem is not my fault."

"I never said it was, but you sure love using it to talk about how you're better than us without ever saying you're the one pouring the drinks that make him the way he is."

"I never said I was better. I know he mistreats you. I want to take you away from that."

"You don't know anything about my family! My papa loves us. He's had a hard time dealing with my mama dying."

"And what about your hard time? Who takes care of you? Who holds you? Who lifts the burdens off of your shoulders so you can breathe?"

"It's none of your business."

"I want to take care of you, give you a home, and be the man you can depend on. I'm asking for a chance to show you my intentions and what I want for us."

"I have to say that threatening to make my family homeless if I don't do what you want doesn't show a man who has good intentions."

"I never threatened to make you homeless. Do you know why I mention your papa so much? Other than his ass being at my bar every day?"

"Why?"

"I asked about you once. Well, more than once. I wanted to see if you had prospects. He told me I could have you for a bottle of whiskey if I wanted." She gasped. "For a bottle of whiskey, I could have his worthless daughter if I wanted her. He even laughed when he told me that she took beatings really well. You respect him because he's your father, but I don't have to when I know the pain he'd cause you given the opportunity. I want to take care of you—and I want to help your brothers. They need a good example of what a man can be, don't you think?"

She didn't say anything, and she couldn't look at him. She wasn't entirely surprised that her father would say something like that if we were already drinking. It didn't take the sting, or the tears falling from her eyes, away.

He placed his arm around her shoulder as he wiped her tears with his thumb. "Sweetheart, you deserve so much more. Let me show you all of the love that you deserve. I'm only asking for you to give me a chance, to know me as the man who can bring you happiness, not just some businessman. Let me give you a good life. I'm a little older, but I'm not so old that I'm a bad prospect, am I?"

She shrugged away. "I want to go home."

He sighed. "Ok, sweetheart. I'm sorry I've upset you. I'll take you home."

"No. I can walk."

"You're not walking anywhere alone in the middle of the night. Just let me take you home and take some time to think. I'll come see after you tomorrow. Come on."

She let him drive her home. He tried to make conversation, but she didn't speak to him. He moved to open her door, but she beat him to it. As she got out of the car and quickly walked to her door, she heard him say "I'll see you tomorrow." She never wanted to see him again, but that probably couldn't be avoided. Eventually, he would be by to collect again.

She crept to her room. Jimmy was still asleep where she left him. She tried to dry her eyes as she removed her gown and put her nightshirt on. She laid next to her baby brother and thought of what would come next. Tomorrow, she would have to go out and look for work. She'd have a hard time explaining her work for the past few months. At least she could drive now—if anyone wanted to hire a woman driver. She wondered if Mr. Minnelli had space and would take her back. He was sad when she told him she found other work, so maybe he would take pity. At least his pity didn't come with invisible strings attached. She should have known that the money Mr. Bosco offered her was too good to be true. Her tears started to fall again.

"T, what's wrong? What are you doing home already?" Jimmy was rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"I didn't mean to wake you, Jimmy. Just go back to sleep."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Yes there is. You're home early, and you're crying." He pulled the covers back and was out of the room before she could stop him.

"Tommy! Stan!" She darted after him.

"What is it, Jimmy?" Tommy was always a light sleeper, which was both a blessing and a curse of its own.

"Something is wrong with T."

"Guys, keep your voices down! Don't wake papa!" She was doing her best to clean her face off to get everyone back to bed.

"T, what's wrong? Why are you crying?"

"Everyone just go back to bed. I'm fine!"

"You don't look fine."

"Please don't wake papa. Just go to bed. We can talk in the morning."

"Or we can talk now. Who hurt you? Someone at that fucking bakery?"

"Tommy! Your language!"

"I don't care. I told you that you should not trust that Minnelli!"

"I haven't worked at the bakery in months."

"Oh. Then, where have you been going?"

She tilted her head towards the parlor. While she tried to keep the boys out of things, Tommy was old enough to know what was going on in their household. She could explain to him, but Stan and Jimmy didn't need to hear.

Her seventeen year old brother just nodded. "Ok, you two, back to bed. I'll handle this." Not that Stan and Jimmy didn't listen to her, but when Tommy did his older brother thing, they made haste to follow his instructions.

When she and Tommy got to the parlor, she grabbed her parka and he followed suit. It would be best if they were away from all prying ears.

He bundled his sweater around him in the blustery winter air. "What's going on, Teresa? Are you ok?"

She swallowed thickly. "I'm fine. I just...I had an upsetting night."

"You left work...which is where by the way?"

"I've been working over at Sam's."

"The bar? You've been working at a bar?"

She nodded. "For the past few months. Mr. Bosco offered me a job making almost triple what Mr. Minnelli paid."

"He offered you a job?"

"When he came to collect and I didn't have all of what papa owed. He lost his job at the mill."

"He did?"

"I guess so. He's been drinking all day over there. He runs up a large tab each week, and I've not seen him put any money toward the house or anything else."

"So you've been working there for months and something happened tonight?"

"Yes. I found out why he hired me in the first place." Tommy looked at her in confusion. "He wants to court me."

Tommy started laughing. "What? You're not serious? That guy is papa's age!"

She let her head fall into her hands. "It's not funny, Tommy! He paid me money so that I would keep him company, and I'm so stupid that I didn't even know until some of the guys told me."

"Wait. He paid you to court you?"

"He said that he wanted to spend time with me so I could get to know him better and not just reject him outright."

"So you rejected him?"

"Of course, I did! I would've never taken that job if I had known his intentions. I was perfectly fine working at the bakery." She closed her eyes. "I have to go look for work tomorrow."

"So you can't work for him anymore?"

"No, Tommy! I'm not going back to that place!"

"But you said you make triple what you did at the bakery."

"To let him court me. Do you have rocks between your ears?"

"No, but is there something wrong with that? Did he try something with you?"

"Other than courting me with my knowledge or consent?"

"Just courting though. Makes sense why he's always lingering when he comes to collect, hanging on your every word. He's in love!" Tommy laughed again.

"I'm glad you find this so funny! We have no income! Is there any way you can find a job? You'll get better wages than I will."

His laughter stopped as he looked away. "T, I'm going to college."

"College?"

"Yes, Notre Dame wants me to play for them."

"Notre Dame? That's not in Chicago."

"I know, but it's only a quick train ride. It's just a few hours away. I can come home on breaks and stuff."

"On breaks and stuff?" Tommy was leaving her.

He nodded. "Coach says it's a great opportunity for me because I can play ball and get a college education-and it's free because they want me to play ball!"

"It is a great opportunity for you, Tommy. I'm proud of you, but what about our family?"

He shrugged. "What about it? You take care of everything now. Stan is old enough to look out for himself, and in a few years, so will Jimmy. And really, that's papa's responsibility."

"I just told you I don't have a job."

"No, you just said that Sam Bosco wants to court you. What's wrong with letting him give you money?" He snickered. "Besides, he's old enough that probably all he wants to do is listen to you talk anyway."

"What's wrong?! Are you out of your mind? Do you know what they call women who do that? I suppose next you will tell me I should just take my clothes off and lay back for him."

He was quiet for a moment. "If he makes you a good offer, you should."

"What?! No! Absolutely not! I cannot even begin to describe what's wrong with this."

"What other guys have come around to ask about you? You don't ever go anywhere where boys your age are. You're at home or work most of the time. He probably just sees that you're already trained up to be a good wife. He even knows about all the little things you like that would turn off boys your age, and it doesn't bother him. I mean, the way you read? Doesn't he talk to you about your books?"

She shook her head side to side. "No way! I'm not taking a man's money to be his company. I won't be anyone's fool!"

"But you already are! Aren't you papa's fool? You got into this whole thing trying to pay his debts."

"Because if we don't, we can lose everything! I don't want us on the streets. Mama would never want that." They were closer to that now than ever before because she was reckless enough to have mentioned the house in front of Mr. Bosco.

"T, I have to get out of here. I come home every day and papa is just drunker and meaner than the day before. I have to go make a future for myself. You gotta do that too. What are you going to do? Stay here with papa until he drinks himself to death?"

"Don't talk about him like that! He's still our father and deserves our respect!"

"Our father who hasn't done anything in seven years besides drink and hit us." Even though she knew Sam hadn't lied to her, she couldn't let him go. She remembered her first communion when he'd told her how proud he was of his little girl. He was still there somewhere. She just had to find him. "Is he nice to you?"

"Who?"

"Mr. Bosco. You said he's trying to court you. Is he nice?"

She shrugged. "I guess so. He says nice things to me. He buys me gifts that I don't know are gifts sometimes."

"Then, what's the problem? If he's nice, then go along with it. The gifts just mean he's interested in you, and he wants you to like him."

"Go along with it? Tell me something: when you go to court a girl and maybe marry her, are you just going to go along?"

"It's different for girls, T. Girls need a provider; men need a wife. He wants to provide for you. Besides, you've been working for him for months. You've had time to get to know him. He's obviously not a bad prospect. You've not said one thing against him. You're just embarrassed that you didn't know he was trying to court you."

"Trying to court me without my consent."

Tommy snickered a bit. "Well, he's talked to you before. The man was probably scared to death to ask you outright. I'm sure he would've told you before he went looking for you to give him the benefits of a husband." He wiggled his eyebrows.

"Shut up, Tommy!"

She pushed her brother and shook her head before going back inside. He was right: things were different for girls. She never had any of the opportunities Tommy had. She had a sixth grade education and few skills outside of the home. She had to raise her brothers and manage their home. No one would come and offer her a free college education that would take her away. Nor could she reject the duties to her family. There was only one way she was getting out.

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The next morning, she was up before her father and brothers. At some time during the night, Jimmy had curled into her side and draped his arm over her. He was like her baby, but he was still so protective of her. She hoped that he would have opportunities like Tommy.

Breakfast was ready for the boys so they could all get off to school. Papa was moving a bit slow this morning.

"Papa, can I get you anything?"

"Nah. I'm headed out."

"Papa, wait!"

"What is it, girl?"

She wanted to talk to him about Mr. Bosco, but the look in his eyes told her he wanted nothing besides a drink.

"Nothing, papa. Have a good day." Feeling truly alone, she kissed his cheek.

After picking up the house, she curled up with her latest book, noting she would have to get to the library soon for more books. She had to stop going to school, but that didn't mean she had to stop learning. Around midday, there was a knock on the door. Her heart dropped. She knew who that was and what he wanted. She could just not answer the door, and maybe he'd go away forever.

"Teresa, it's me. I know you're in there. Will you let me in so we can talk? Please."

Against her better judgment, she sat the book down and opened the door. He smiled at her. "Teresa. It's great to see you!"

"Mr. Bosco." His smile fell as he removed his hat. "I suppose we have business to discuss."

She ushered him inside the parlor. "These are for you." He handed her a parcel.

She folded her arms in front of herself. "I don't need your gifts."

"They're for you." He unwrapped the parcel, revealing a bundle of strawberries. "I know they're your favorite. You're a great cook. Have you ever made a strawberry pie?"

She ignored his question. She was in no mood for small talk. "How do you want the house payments made? Should I pay every week and how much?"

"Sweetheart, I bought the house for you. I don't want you to pay me anything."

"You didn't just buy a house and expect nothing in return."

"I wanted to show you that I could provide for you and lessen your burdens. Teresa, you shouldn't have to work so hard. You should be able to enjoy life."

She sighed, looking down at her feet. "What do you want from me, Mr. Bosco?"

"First thing is that I'd like you to never call me that again. My name is Sam. Second thing is that I'd like you to be my wife when the time is right. I know it's not right just yet, but I want you to fully understand my intentions. It was wrong of me to deceive you because I was afraid you'd reject me. I want to properly court you, Teresa Lisbon."

He looked hopeful when he spoke. She recalled Tommy's words from the night before. Girls needed a provider; men needed a wife. Sam was a businessman; he wanted to conduct a transaction. Only, at the center of that transaction was her life.

She closed her eyes. "I can agree to the courtship, but I want to be clear. I am not doing any immoral acts for money."

"No, I certainly didn't think so." He wrapped her in an embrace. "I'm just asking for a chance to win a place in your heart to match the one you have in mine."

He kissed the top of her head as a single tear escaped her eye. Tommy may have been right about the nature of things, but he would never understand the feeling of surrendering yourself to protect your family. Apparently, that was something men never had to feel.