Then nodded.
He crossed the room.
Eliza pressed herself against his chest.
Grant wrapped both arms around her.
“I’m sorry.”
She whispered.
“For what?”
“For yelling at you.”
Grant pulled back enough to see her face.
“You were right.”
“I know.”
He smiled faintly.
“Then why apologize?”
“Habit.”
He wiped her tears.
“We'll work on it.”
She stared at him.
“You didn't try to stop me.”
“From choosing me?”
“From choosing either way.”
Grant looked toward the door.
“I wanted to.”
“Very badly.”
“I know.”
He smiled without humor.
“But if I have to cage you to keep you, then I don't actually have you.”
Eliza kissed him.
Hard.
Grant caught her waist.
She pulled away only long enough to whisper:
“You keep saying things like that and supper truly will stop being the problem.”
His eyes darkened with desire.
“Samuel will be back in twenty minutes.”
Eliza smiled.
“Then perhaps you should use sixteen wisely.”
Grant laughed and kissed her again.
They did not make it upstairs.
Samuel returned seventeen minutes later.
The kitchen was suspiciously empty.
He found Grant in the barn five minutes afterward looking far too pleased with himself.
“Where's Eliza?”
“Busy.”
Samuel narrowed his eyes.
“With what?”
Grant looked toward the house.
“Marriage.”
Samuel made a face.
“Adults are disgusting.”
Grant smiled.
“You'll survive.”
The legal matter took six weeks.
Augustus's attorney sent letters.
Eliza hired one in Dodge City named Nathaniel Cooper.
A patient man who did not speak to Grant when Eliza asked a question.
Grant liked him instantly.
The trust existed.
The money existed.
Augustus had no legal right to withhold it after Eliza's twenty-fifth birthday.
There were complications.
Fees.
Documents.
Signatures.
Nothing impossible.
Then Cooper found something else.
A sealed letter held with the original trust papers.
Addressed:
For Eliza, when she is free to choose for herself.
Her mother's handwriting.
Eliza sat at the kitchen table holding it.
Grant stood by the stove.
Samuel had been sent outside.
“Do you want me here?”
Grant asked.
Eliza looked at the letter.
“Yes.”
He sat across from her.
Not beside.
Space.
Eliza broke the seal.
The paper smelled like nothing.
She had hoped absurdly that it would smell like her mother's lavender water.
Instead, just old paper.
She read.
My dearest Eliza,
Her vision blurred immediately.
She stopped.
Grant waited.
Eliza continued.
If you are reading this, then either I have been given less time than I hoped or your father has finally accepted that you are no longer a child. I suspect the first.
Eliza laughed through tears.
Her mother had always been honest.
She read further.
I have placed money in trust for you because I have learned something I wish my own mother had taught me. A woman who must ask permission for every dollar can eventually be made to ask permission for everything.
Grant's jaw tightened.
Eliza looked up.
He said nothing.
She continued.
Money cannot create courage, but it can create a door. I want you always to have one.
Eliza stopped.
The kitchen blurred.
Grant reached across the table.
Palm up.
She placed her hand in his.
Then continued.
Your father loves you. I believe that. He also mistakes control for protection when he is afraid. Do not let his fear become the architecture of your life.
Eliza covered her mouth.
Grant looked away.