I may not have chosen this marriage, but I choose to honor it, whatever comes. She went inside before he could respond, leaving him alone with the stars and the growing realization that somewhere between I do and Denver, he'd begun to see her not as an obligation but as possibility. Not Margaret, never Margaret, but Clara, complex, intelligent, brave Clara, who stood up to bullies and taught his daughter about medicine and looked beautiful in moonlight. The thought terrified him. It felt like betrayal, like forgetting, like moving on.
But it also felt like spring after a long winter, like the first green shoots pushing through frozen ground. Life insisting on itself despite loss, despite grief, despite the thousand reasons it shouldn't. In the house, he heard Clara moving around her room, preparing for bed. Soon she'd be lying in that narrow bed, perhaps thinking of their shared night in Denver, perhaps wondering like he was what it meant that the space between them was shrinking with each passing day. Morrison would retaliate.
The fight for the ranch was far from over. There would be more challenges, more dangers. But for the first time since Margaret's death, Ethan didn't feel like he was facing them alone. He had Clara now. Unexpected, unsought, but increasingly essential Clara.
We, she'd said, like it was the most natural thing in the world. And maybe, just maybe, it was starting to be. Morrison's response came three days later, delivered not by messenger, but by the man himself, accompanied by Sheriff Bradley and two deputies. Ethan was mending fence in the north pasture when he saw the riders approaching, their dust cloud visible long before their faces. He whistled sharply, the signal that brought Tom and the other hands running.
"Stay calm," he told his men. "No one draws unless they do." But it was Clara who met them at the house, standing on the porch with Sophie behind her, partially hidden by her skirts. She'd seen them coming from the window where she'd been teaching Sophie arithmetic, and something in their formation had warned her this wasn't a social call. Mrs. Walker, Morrison tipped his hat mockingly. "How charming you look today.
Is your husband about?" "He's working, as honest men do," Clara replied evenly. "Perhaps I can help you." I doubt that very much. Morrison pulled a document from his coat. This is a court summons. Seems there's been some question about damages to my property.
What damages? Clara kept her voice steady, though her heart was racing. My men report they were assaulted while conducting legal business on this ranch. One has a broken nose, another a cracked rib. I'm seeking compensation.
Your men were trespassing, Clara said, and any injuries they sustained were the result of their own aggressive behavior. Sheriff Bradley shifted uncomfortably in his saddle. He was a decent man, Clara knew, but Morrison held his mortgage, too. The whole town was caught in the banker's web one way or another. Ethan arrived then.
Zeus lthered from the hard ride. He dismounted smoothly, positioning himself between Clara and Morrison. What's this about? Morrison repeated his claims, embellishing the story with each telling. According to him, his men had been peacefully documenting property when they were set upon by ranch hands wielding clubs and firearms.