From the yard came Eli’s voice, calling for Thomas.
His brother grinned.
“There he is. The idiot himself.”
Margaret laughed.
Thomas tipped his hat and went outside.
The question of marriage returned in April.
The days had grown longer, and the first shoots of grass appeared along the creek. Clara had begun to spend more time outdoors, collecting stones and making elaborate plans for a garden. Margaret helped her prepare a small patch near the kitchen, where they planted beans, carrots, and flowers.
Eli watched them from the porch.
He had stopped thinking of Margaret as a visitor. Her books lay beside the hearth, her sewing basket occupied a corner of the sitting room, and her laughter had become part of the house’s ordinary sounds. Yet he had not forgotten that she was free to leave.
He had promised himself not to ask her to stay until he could offer something more than need.
Now, with the spring sun warming the yard, he believed he could.
That evening, after Clara had gone to bed, he found Margaret on the porch, brushing soil from her hands.
“Your garden looks promising,” he said.
“If the rabbits leave it alone.”
“I’ll mend the fence.”
“Thank you.”
He sat beside her.
For a while, they watched the last light fade from the mountains.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said.
“That sounds dangerous.”
“It may be.”
She turned toward him.
“I want to ask you something. But before I do, I want you to understand that you can say no. I won’t punish you for it, and I won’t make Clara carry the disappointment.”
Margaret’s expression grew attentive.
“All right.”
“I want you to stay here. Not as a guest. Not as a paid companion. Not because Anne asked you to come. I want you to stay because I love you.”
The words came out quietly, almost reluctantly, as though he had been holding them behind his teeth for weeks.
Margaret’s breath caught.
Eli continued before fear could silence him.
“I didn’t intend to fall in love again. I thought it would be enough to build a decent home for Clara. I thought I could make a practical arrangement and keep my heart out of it. But I was wrong. I care for you, Margaret. I admire you. I trust you. I want to share the ordinary days with you, not just the hard ones. I want to hear your voice in the kitchen and see you sitting beside the fire. I want to know what you think about the world, and I want you to know what I think, even when I’m foolish.”
Margaret looked down at her hands.
He waited.
“I love Anne,” he said. “I always will. I won’t pretend otherwise, and I won’t ask you to take her place. But I don’t believe loving you would mean loving her less. I think she understood that before I did.”
Margaret’s eyes filled.
“Eli, I have wanted to hear you say something like that,” she whispered. “And I have been afraid of it.”
“Why?”
“Because I have loved people who needed me. I have cared for children who had no one else. I have stayed in places because leaving would have hurt someone. I know how to give. I’m not certain I know how to receive without feeling I must repay every kindness.”
He reached for her hand.
“Then we’ll learn.”