Grant stayed silent.
Eliza continued.
“You arranged for me to marry Vernon Pike.”
“He is respectable.”
“He is fifty-six.”
“He is established.”
“He spoke about me as though purchasing breeding stock.”
Augustus sighed.
“You exaggerate.”
“No.”
Eliza looked toward Grant.
“Grant asked what books I liked.”
“What work I could do.”
“What kind of home I wanted.”
“Vernon asked Father whether I'd become thinner after childbirth.”
Grant's face changed.
Augustus looked at him.
“That comment was inappropriate.”
Eliza laughed.
“You still wanted me to marry him.”
Augustus stepped closer.
“Because marriage protects women.”
“From what?”
“Choice?”
He stopped.
Eliza continued.
“Why are you here?”
Augustus looked toward Grant.
That was the answer.
Money.
Grant felt it before understanding.
Augustus removed papers from his coat.
“I have a proposal.”
Grant almost laughed.
Eliza did not.
“For him?”
Augustus nodded.
“Partly.”
Grant said:
“No.”
Eliza turned sharply.
Grant realized the mistake immediately.
Augustus smiled.
Eliza stared at her husband.
“What did he propose?”
“He hasn't yet.”
“Then why did you answer?”
Grant closed his mouth.
Eliza's face hardened.
Augustus watched with satisfaction.
Grant said quietly:
“You're right.”
That removed some of her anger.
Not all.
He stepped backward.
“Ask him.”
Eliza looked at Augustus.
“What proposal?”
Her father placed a document on the table.
“Your mother's estate.”
Eliza froze.
“What?”
Grant looked between them.
Augustus continued.
“Eleanor left assets in trust.”
Eliza stared.
“You told me there was nothing.”
“I told you the estate remained complicated.”
“You said her medical expenses consumed everything.”
“Most.”
Eliza's hand gripped the chair.
“How much?”
Augustus hesitated.
Grant knew instantly it was substantial.
“How much?”
Eliza repeated.
“Eight thousand dollars.”
The room went silent.
Eight thousand.
Red Willow Ranch itself, livestock and land included, might not sell for much more than that in a poor year.
Eliza whispered:
“You lied.”
“I managed the estate.”
“You lied.”
“Your mother created conditions.”
“What conditions?”
“Marriage or age twenty-five.”
Eliza laughed.
A broken sound.
“I am twenty-seven.”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn't I receive it?”
Augustus looked away.
Grant felt anger building again.
Eliza understood first.
“You kept it.”
“I protected it.”
“From me.”
“From impulsive decisions.”
“Like marriage?”
“Yes.”
There.
Honest.
Augustus looked toward Grant.
“She has always been susceptible to emotional choices.”
Grant nearly stood.
Eliza lifted one hand without looking at him.
Stay.