Taza nodded. Then help. There was no command in his voice. No expectation. Just trust.
That had become one of the things Clara loved most about him. Over the next several hours, they worked around the ranch. Clara planted vegetables while Taza repaired part of the fence. Every so often, their eyes met. Neither said anything.
They didn't need to. Their quiet understanding had grown stronger than words. Yet that afternoon, Clara became unusually quiet. Taza noticed. You're thinking.
She looked at him. How do you always know? You become quiet. I am always quiet. Clara smiled.
Then she looked toward the distant mountains. I've been thinking about leaving. Taza stopped repairing the fence. Clara immediately worried that she had heard him. I don't mean leaving forever.
He waited. I just want to know if I can stand on my own. Taza leaned against the fence. You can. You don't even want me to stay.
I didn't say that. But you aren't asking me to stay. Taza looked at her calmly. If I ask you to stay because I'm afraid of losing you, then your choice isn't completely yours. Clara lowered her eyes.
You really would let me go? Yes. The answer hurt more than she expected. She had secretly hoped he would tell her that he needed her. But instead, he gave her freedom.
That was exactly why she loved him. Clara looked at him. What if I don't want to go? Then stay. Just like that.
Just like that. She smiled through tears. I think that's what I needed to hear. Taza stepped closer. You don't belong to me, Clara.
She looked up. I know you never did. Clara nodded. Then she reached for his hand. But I think I want to belong beside you.
For the first time, Taza looked genuinely moved. He gently squeezed her hand. Then stay beside me. Their moment was interrupted by the arrival of one of the ranch workers. Ara's former family had lost much of their property after a powerful storm damaged their home and fields.
Clara listened quietly. The news stirred emotions she had not expected. She remembered the cruel house, the shouting, the humiliation, but she also remembered that those people were still human beings. Taza watched her carefully. You don't have to help them.
I know. Whatever you choose is your decision. Clara sat beneath the cottonwood tree. I don't want to become like them. Taza understood what she meant.
She did not want cruelty to define her either. After thinking for a long time, Clara decided to send food and supplies through a neutral neighbor. She would help them survive, but she would not return. She would not surrender her freedom. Taza respected the decision.
"You can forgive someone without giving them permission to hurt you again," he told her. Clara nodded. "That is something I am still learning. " "So am I. " That evening, Clara discovered something unexpected. While searching through an old desk for paper, she found documents showing that Taza owned far more land than she had realized. She stared at the papers.