Then he became serious.
“I'll respect your business.”
Her eyes filled.
“And I'll respect your ranch.”
He nodded.
They shook hands solemnly.
Then both began laughing at the absurdity of conducting a business agreement while she was still dressed as a bride and he sat beside the fire with snow melting from his boots.
The rancher lifted her hand.
Then kissed it.
“Now that we've settled that, may I ask something?”
She smiled.
“Yes?”
“Would you dance with me?”
Her expression changed.
She looked down at her enormous figure.
“Darling, I can't dance the way most people do.”
He nodded.
“I know.”
She looked uncertain.
He stood.
Then moved a sturdy chair closer.
“We can make our own way.”
Her eyes filled.
He offered his hand.
She took it.
They remained seated close together while he gently moved their joined hands in time with a slow tune he hummed from memory.
He swayed slightly beside her chair.
She laughed.
He smiled.
For several minutes, they made an awkward, beautiful little dance out of two chairs, a pair of clasped hands, and a melody neither remembered perfectly.
Then he leaned toward her.
She lifted her face.
And they kissed.
The moment was imperfect.
The wedding had been postponed.
The supper was simple.
The gown was no longer arranged as carefully as it had been that morning.
But the bride was smiling.
And the rancher had never felt more certain of anything in his life.
The storm continued for two days.
During that time, they spoke honestly about the future.
The rancher explained his remaining finances.
He showed her what he had spent and what he still needed to maintain his cattle and buildings.
The woman reviewed the figures with him.
She suggested ways the smokehouse business could help them rebuild their savings over the coming year.
He listened.
They discussed expenses.
The cost of additional salt.
Repairs to the outer storage room.
Feed for his animals.
And the need to keep money available for emergencies.
It wasn't romantic in the way people usually described romance.
There were no grand speeches.
No musicians.
No expensive jewelry beyond the simple wedding ring.
But to the woman, those conversations were deeply reassuring.
He was not asking her to surrender her decisions.
He was inviting her into his.
And he was listening when she invited him into hers.
By the third morning, the roads had begun clearing.