Chapter 17
We linger at the gate, neither of us wanting to be the one to say goodnight. We agree to meet out here again at eleven in the morning, but Miss Lucille holds onto my arm and doesn’t show any signs of letting go. Finally I point out that it’s getting late—the sun set hours ago, and the road ahead is pitch black. Soon some of the ranch hands will be stumbling back. We shouldn’t still be at the gate where they can see us, no matter how drunk they might be.
“Good idea.” Miss Lucille stands on her toes, though that isn’t really necessary, and plants a quick kiss on my cheek. It’s close enough to my upper lip for me to count it as a real kiss, my first, and my mouth tingles all the way back to Miss Barbour’s.
Whatever is happening between us needs to stop, I know. But it’s so hard
