Her eyes widened.
For one heartbeat, she seemed unable to speak.
Then she smiled through tears.
"I know, cowboy."
I laughed shakily.
"Could've told me."
She touched my cheek.
"I've been trying for months."
I bent closer.
She met me halfway.
And our first kiss was gentle, unhurried, and so full of relief that for a moment, the mountains beyond the window ceased to exist.
The next morning, Josephine woke before me.
When I entered the cabin carrying firewood, she was sitting beside the window with Eliza's letter open on her lap.
I stopped.
She looked up.
"Is it all right that I'm reading it?"
I nodded.
"Of course."
She lowered her eyes.
For a moment, she seemed thoughtful.
Then said.
"She sounds like someone who loved you very much."
I placed the wood beside the stove.
"She did."
Josephine nodded.
Then asked something I hadn't expected.
"Do you feel guilty?"
I looked toward her.
"About what?"
She hesitated.
"About us."
For several seconds, I remained quiet.
Then I sat beside her.
I considered the question carefully.
"Part of me does."
Her expression changed.
I took her hand.
"But I think the guilt comes from a habit I've been carrying too long."
She listened.
I continued.
"Eliza was my wife. I loved her. That doesn't become less true because I love you."
Josephine's eyes filled.
I looked toward the letter.
"She wanted me to keep living."
For a moment, I smiled sadly.
"And she was usually right about the things that mattered."
Josephine laughed softly.
Then rested her hand against mine.
We sat quietly for several minutes.
Finally, she looked toward the valley.
"What happens now?"
I took a slow breath.
"First, we deal with the Calders."
She raised one eyebrow.
"And after that?"
I smiled.
"After that, I reckon we've got a few decisions to make."
She squeezed my hand.
"I'd like that."
The most important part of Eliza's letter wasn't the information about Calder.
It was the reminder that the old records had been preserved for a reason.
Thomas Wren's survey wasn't simply a map of my valley.
It contained measurements tied to several earlier land and water-use agreements along the freight road.
Josephine's trunk held other documents her mother preserved.
There were ledger pages.
Copies of correspondence.
And a sworn statement prepared by a local official shortly before the fire.
Together, they suggested that Roland Calder had attempted to enlarge his claimed holdings by altering descriptions of the creek and surrounding parcels.