But Ethan and Amelia changed.
Charles’s arrival removed the illusion that they had unlimited time to become brave.
They stopped sleeping separately.
Not because fear drove them together.
Because it had become absurd to lie about wanting each other.
Their first night fully as husband and wife carried none of the obligation Amelia once feared.
Ethan asked.
She answered.
And afterward, lying against his chest while wind moved outside, Amelia realized intimacy could be quiet.
No bargain.
No demand.
No proof required.
She traced one scar on Ethan’s forearm.
“How?”
“Barbed wire.”
“This?”
“Horse bite.”
“This?”
“Kitchen knife.”
She raised her head.
“You fought a kitchen?”
“Potato.”
“Dangerous country.”
“Very.”
Her smile faded slowly.
“Ethan?”
“Yes?”
“If this gets worse…”
“It will.”
She looked at him.
“That wasn’t comforting.”
“You married an honest man.”
“If Charles hurts you—”
“Stop.”
“I brought him here.”
“No.”
“You came here.”
“Difference.”
“He followed.”
“His choice.”
Ethan touched her hair.
“Don’t carry another man’s sin because he put your name near it.”
Amelia closed her eyes.
No one had ever said anything like that to her.
Her mother carried blame until it bent her.
Amelia had inherited that too.
Maybe some family gifts should end.
Others should continue.
She placed her hand over Ethan’s heart.
“What if I’m not what you expected?”
“I ordered a bride through the mail.”
He smiled.
“I abandoned expectations at stagecoach.”
She hit his chest lightly.
He caught her hand and kissed her fingers.
Amelia whispered:
“I love you.”
Ethan stopped breathing for half a second.
Then:
“Again.”
She smiled.
“I love you.”
He kissed her.
“I love you too.”
No grand speech.
Enough.
Founders Day arrived under a clear June sky.
Red Hollow doubled in size.
Wagons filled Main Street.
Children ran between stalls.
Cattle lowed from holding pens.
A fiddler played outside saloon.
Horse auction began before noon.
Charles Whitaker stood near the main rail wearing gray instead of black.
He had bought attention.
Two newspaper men had arrived from Helena.
That confirmed Amelia’s suspicion.
Charles wanted spectacle.
He approached her before the demonstrations began.
Ethan stood beside her.
Charles stopped several feet away.
“Amelia.”
She felt the old fear rise.
Then Ethan’s hand brushed hers.
Not gripping.
Available.
Amelia did not take it immediately.
She wanted to stand alone first.
“Charles.”
His smile was gentle enough to fool strangers.
“You look well.”
“I am.”
“Montana suits desperation.”
Ethan stepped forward.
Amelia touched his arm.
“No.”
He stopped.
She looked at Charles.
“What do you want?”
“My property.”
“You mean my mother’s.”
“Those journals contain proprietary breeding knowledge developed on Whitaker farms.”
“Your father hired my mother.”
“He funded her research.”
“He ruined her.”
Charles’s smile faltered.
“You’re repeating her delusions.”
People nearby began listening.
Charles noticed.