If you can live with that, then we have a deal. Inside the house, Tommy called again, his voice tinged with worry. Mama, is everything okay? Nora looked toward the door, toward her son, the center of her universe. Then back to Elias, this hard-broken man who was offering her salvation in the most unexpected way possible.
I need to think about this, she said finally. It's not a decision I can make in 5 minutes. Fair enough. But Vincent gave you a week. After that, he's coming back with lawyers and court orders.
So think fast. He walked away back toward the barn, leaving Nora alone with the weight of an impossible choice. The next 3 days were agony. Nora moved through her tasks in a daze, her mind spinning with possibilities and consequences. Marriage to Elias would solve the immediate problem.
Vincent couldn't claim Tommy if she had a husband, especially not one with Elias's standing in the community. The ranch hands respected him. He owned his land outright. He was exactly the kind of stable, respectable man a judge would favor. But marriage wasn't just a piece of paper.
It was a lifetime commitment, and Nora had already lived that once with James. The difference was, she'd loved James, had chosen him freely, had built a life with him based on affection and partnership and hope for the future. What Elias was offering wasn't that. It was protection and practicality, security without sentiment. Could she live like that?
Could she share a home, a life, a name with a man she didn't love and who didn't love her? More importantly was it fair to Elias? He'd already lost so much. Did he really understand what he was offering to give up? The possibility of finding real love again, of having a family that was truly his?
The questions haunted her through bread-making and clothes washing and all the mundane tasks that suddenly felt weighted with significance. Every time she saw Elias, at meals, passing in the yard, once when Tommy dragged him over to see a particularly interesting caterpillar, she searched his face for doubt, for second thoughts. But his expression remained closed, unreadable, giving nothing away. On the third night, Nora found Hank alone in the barn, mending a broken harness by lantern light. The old cowhand looked up when she entered, his weathered face crinkling into a smile.
Evening, ma'am. Something I can do for you? Actually, I was hoping to ask you something about Elias. Hank's smile faded into something more cautious. What about him?
Has he always been so closed off? So alone? The old man was quiet for a moment, working leather through his calloused hands. Then Not always, no. When Miss Sarah was alive, he was different.
Not exactly cheerful, mind you. Elias was always on the serious side. But he'd smile. Laugh, even. Had plans for the ranch, for their future together.
Then she died, and the baby with her. And it's like something in him just shut down. Been 5 years and he still sleeps out here instead of in the house. Still keeps her picture on the dresser, but doesn't look at it. Still sets aside money in an account he won't touch because it was supposed to be for the child's education.