Not for her ability to make men look bigger.
For her strength.
For her size.
For everything Philadelphia had told her was wrong.
The rancher didn’t ask her to become smaller.
He wanted her exactly as she was.
That should have frightened her.
Instead, it made her hands stop shaking.
Three weeks later, Magnolia boarded a train west with a small trunk, a borrowed coat, and courage that didn’t feel like courage so much as desperation with a spine.
By the time she reached Montana Territory, the air tasted like sage and distance. The sky looked too big to belong to any one person. Prairie rolled toward snowcapped peaks like the world was stretching its limbs after a long sleep.
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