“If the north eighty is worth enough to clear four thousand dollars, why have your previous offers valued the entire ranch only slightly higher?”
Silence.
Nathan looked at her.
Vale’s eyes cooled.
“You have been reading.”
“Some.”
“You should concern yourself with domestic matters.”
Clara smiled.
“I find numbers domestic.”
Ethan coughed to hide laughter.
Vale put on his hat.
“March.”
He walked toward his horse.
Then stopped.
Turned.
“Mara was more reasonable.”
Nathan moved.
Clara grabbed his arm.
Hard.
Vale saw.
Smiled.
Mounted.
Rode away.
Nathan tore his arm free once Vale disappeared.
“Never do that again.”
“Stop you from attacking the man who owns your debt?”
“Yes.”
“That is an unusual financial strategy.”
“He spoke about Mara.”
“That was why.”
“Yes.”
“So he wanted you angry.”
Nathan stared.
Clara continued:
“Men like him provoke because anger makes other people careless.”
Ethan watched them.
Nathan looked toward his son.
Then breathed out.
“You're right.”
Clara blinked.
“Say it again.”
“No.”
“You said I was right.”
“I made an error.”
She smiled.
That evening, Nathan asked to see Mara’s letter.
Not demanded.
Asked.
Clara gave him the pages addressed generally to her.
Not the hidden papers.
Not yet.
He read beside the fire.
At the line comparing him to an old barn, his mouth tightened.
Clara pretended not to watch.
He muttered:
“She was impossible.”
Clara smiled.
“Frequently.”
“You met her through paper.”
“Strong impression.”
He continued.
At the line about letting the children choose how to love someone, his eyes stopped.
For a long time.
Then he looked toward Clara.
“She knew.”
“What?”
“That I would try to force normal because I couldn’t stand what grief looked like.”
Clara sat opposite him.
“You’re not forcing much.”
“No?”
“You brought five children to meet a stranger like a jury.”
He laughed quietly.
“I deserved that.”
They sat.
Fire cracked.
Upstairs a floorboard creaked.
Nathan said:
“Why did you come?”
Clara answered without pretending.
“Because my family needed one fewer mouth.”
He looked at her.
“That’s not all.”
“No.”
She stared into the fire.
“My father lost two harvests.”
“We owe the mill.”
“My mother has six children younger than me.”
“The agency offered travel paid.”
“A match with land.”
“A home.”
Nathan’s face tightened.
“They sold you.”
Clara looked up sharply.
“No.”
“It sounds—”
“They chose badly under pressure.”
“That is different.”
She studied him.