Sam thought about that. He may not want to hear it. I know. But he is a man of conscience underneath the convenience. I have to believe that.
Her voice softened by a fraction. I have to believe someone in that town can look at what was done and call it what it is. Lily had settled on the hearth rug again, this time with a small piece of firewood she'd apparently decided was interesting, turning it over in her hands with the focused attention she brought to all objects. She looked up at Sam. Will you come with Mama to see the Reverend?
If your mama wants me to. He should come. Lily said to Martha with the definitiveness of someone closing a debate. He's big. Martha looked at her daughter.
Something shifted in her face brief and fierce and entirely maternal. He is, she agreed quietly. He is that. They went to Reverend Holt the following morning. The storm had moved fully east overnight and left behind the particular crystalline stillness of a Colorado winter after weather.
The sky a hard perfect blue. The snow so white it hurt to look at. The air so cold and clean it felt like breathing glass. Sam rode and Martha sat beside him in the wagon with Lily between them. Tucked inside Martha's coat with only the top of her copper head visible.
They didn't talk much on the road into town. Sam had learned in the past two days that Martha's silences were not the silences of a woman withdrawn or afraid. But of a woman who is thinking and thinking hard and did not need to fill the air while she did it. He appreciated that more than he could easily have said. He had spent six years in the company of a landscape that communicated entirely through action.
And found human conversation that was purely decorative to be an enormous waste of everyone's time. Once about halfway to town she said. How long have you been alone out here? Six years. By choice?
He considered the question honestly. By the time it stopped being a choice, he said. I've gotten used to it. She was quiet for a moment then. I know what that's like.
Making a cage comfortable enough that you forget it's a cage? He looked at her. She was looking straight ahead at the road, her face calm, Lily a warm weight against her side. "The difference is," she said, "you built yours yourself. Mine was built around me."