II
He was tired. Most days, Jacob Dutton got up with the sun—or before—without any problem. There was work to be done. And the nights he got to spend in his own bed were always more restful than the ones spent out with the herd. But today, the sun was peeking through the gap in the curtains that had been handsewn by his wife, and Jacob didn't want to get out of bed.
Cara rolled over beside him, stretching like she always did when she woke. "What're you still doing here?" she asked. Her voice was gravelly with sleep. He kinda liked it.
"I don't wanna get up," he answered simply.
"Do you expect me to entertain you?" she asked, turning her head towards him and raising an eyebrow expectantly.
"Not expecting it, no, but have you ever known me to turn down an opportunity?" he quipped.
Cara chuckled and gave him a playful smack on the arm. "We've got to get to the day," she reminded him.
"Yeah, I know," he answered. He didn't make any attempt to move.
She moved onto her front and propped herself up on her elbows to look at him with that scrutinizing gaze of hers. He sometimes wondered how much she saw that he didn't. How much she observed that no one ever expected. Well, Jacob wasn't a fool like too many other men. He knew his wife's worth. And her worth was a hell of a lot more than most people's, man or woman. She was smarter and stronger than he was, that was for sure. And he knew his own worth, too. He wasn't no slouch. But he owed a lot to Cara and to the strength of their marriage. Knowing he could depend on her was a big reason he could be the man he was.
Cara reached up and gently touched his face, running her fingers over the lines that were forming with age.
"What's got you lookin' at me like that?" she asked gently.
He caught her hand in his own and brought her fingertips to his mouth to kiss her softly. This gentleness of hers was one of his favorite things about her. Her fierce strength, certainly, but this gentle nature that she was so unafraid to show to those she loved and cared for. This was what made his love for her bloom in his chest.
"Why don't you want to get out of bed, Jacob?"
With a sigh, he placed her hand on his chest and covered it with his own. "I'm tired. I'm gettin' old and tired," he admitted.
"Better than the alternative," she pointed out.
"Young and not tired?"
"Dead." Her voice was flat, cutting past his weak attempt at a joke.
But she was right. She always was.
Cara sat up and patted him on the chest. "Come on. Out of bed. Get to your chores, and if you get a chance, come back up to the house at lunch and we can go back to bed."
Jacob reluctantly rolled himself up and out of bed. "You want to take a nap at lunch?" he asked incredulously, turning around to look at her.
There was that sly grin of hers. "I didn't say we'd sleep."