Then Mrs. Lyle, the general storekeeper’s wife, approached.
Her mouth was tight.
“You’ve certainly made yourself important quickly.”
Ethan moved.
Clara touched his wrist.
Not yet.
She turned toward the older woman.
“No.”
Mrs. Lyle laughed.
“Everyone in town seems to think otherwise.”
“That's their problem.”
“You enjoy embarrassing people.”
Clara’s expression changed.
“No.”
“You embarrassed yourself the first day we met.”
Silence.
Mrs. Lyle flushed.
Clara continued.
“You looked at a stranger’s body and decided that gave you permission to treat her like a joke.”
“I answered.”
“That wasn’t humiliation.”
“That was consequence.”
The older woman’s lips tightened.
“You think people will ever truly accept you here?”
Clara looked around.
Ruth.
Billy with crutches.
The ranch hand.
The county clerk pretending not to listen.
The schoolteacher.
Several farmers.
Ethan.
Then she looked back.
“I think I spent too many years letting other people decide when I was allowed to belong.”
Mrs. Lyle said nothing.
Clara smiled faintly.
“I’m done.”
Then walked away.
Ethan followed.
At the wagon, he offered his hand.
Clara took it.
Halfway up the widened step she stopped.
“Ethan.”
“Yes?”
“You built this before I came.”
“Yes.”
“How much wider?”
He looked nervous.
“Clara.”
“How much?”
“Six inches.”
She stared.
“You measured me from a photograph?”
“No.”
“What did you do?”
“Guessed.”
She began laughing.
“What?”
“I guessed wrong twice.”
“What does that mean?”
“There were three steps.”
“You built three?”
“The first narrow.”
“The second too tall.”
“The third worked.”
Clara laughed so hard she had to stop climbing.
People on the courthouse steps stared.
She did not care.
Ethan smiled.
That might have been the exact moment Dry Creek stopped feeling like somewhere she was visiting.
Not because the town approved.
Because she stopped checking.
The wedding took place in May.
Snow remained high in the mountains, but the prairie had turned green.
Clara wore the white dress.
She had altered the bodice slightly.
Not to make herself look smaller.
Only to make breathing easier.
That distinction mattered.
Ethan waited outside the church rather than at the altar.
Clara arrived in a wagon.
Ruth Palmer sat beside her.
When Clara saw Ethan waiting, she frowned.
“Why aren't you inside?”
“I thought we could walk in together.”
The words surprised her.
“Why?”
“You don't have anyone to give you away.”
Clara’s face tightened.
Ethan immediately realized the mistake.
“I didn't mean—”
“No.”
She smiled through sudden tears.
“Keep going.”
He swallowed.
“And I don't think anyone needs to.”
Clara stared.
Ethan extended his hand.
“Walk with me?”
She took it.
They entered together.
Half the town stood.
Some because they liked them.
Some because weddings were entertainment.