He had called the hospitality genuine and unaffected, the kind that is becoming increasingly rare in a world that mistakes formality for quality. Eleanor read it twice. She looked up. Come in, she told the journalist. I'll see if I can fit everyone.
She fit everyone. It was difficult and it required her to sleep in the kitchen, but she fit everyone and she did it without any of the guests being aware of the sacrifice because that was the kind of thing you didn't let people know about if you wanted them to feel welcome rather than obligated. Benjamin heard about the newspaper article from four separate people before he came to see her about it, which he did on a Sunday evening with the expression of a man who has been waiting for the right moment and has decided this is it. Chicago paper, he said, sitting at her kitchen table. Apparently, Eleanor said, "Finest hospitality west of the Mississippi," he said.
That's what it said. He looked at her. Something in the quality of his looking had been shifting incrementally over the months of their acquaintance. She had been aware of it without examining it too directly. The way you can be aware of weather changing without wanting to name the storm.
"Are you pleased?" he asked. She thought about it honestly. I'm not sure pleased is the right word, she said. I'm It confirmed something. That's what it did.
It confirmed that what I was building was real. She turned her coffee cup. I knew it was real, but but it helps to have it said out loud, he said quietly. Yes, she said. It helps.
He was quiet for a moment. The kind of quiet that has a shape to it. Eleanor, he said. She looked at him. I have been.
He stopped. I want to say something and I want to say it plainly so you understand exactly what I mean by it. Her heart did something she did not entirely authorize. All right. She said, "I have been coming to this farm since August because I find this farm worthwhile." He said, "I have been coming because I find the work you do here worthwhile and the way you think worthwhile and the way you talk about this land worthwhile." He met her eyes.
"And I have been coming because I find your company particularly worthwhile." "The kitchen was very quiet." "That's a great many worthwhiles," she said. "I know," he said. "I'm working up to something. I can see that," she said. I don't want to presume, he said.
I understand that you have built something here that is entirely your own and entirely sufficient and that you do not need anything added to it. I understand that. He held her gaze, but I would like, if you were willing, to be in it in whatever way makes sense to you as a as more than a neighbor who borrows fence line." Eleanor looked at him for a long moment. She thought about the first day she'd seen him on the gray horse at the gap in her fence, doing calculations with his eyes. She thought about the lumber he'd brought on a convenient pretext.