It mattered that he could see desperation without instantly converting it into cruelty.
She continued:
“I also wanted to leave.”
That surprised him.
“Why?”
“Because being the oldest daughter in a poor family means everyone loves you while accidentally building a cage from need.”
Nathan understood too quickly.
“Ethan.”
Clara looked toward the stairs.
“Yes.”
“You’re doing it to him.”
Nathan leaned back.
“I thought he wanted responsibility.”
“Maybe he does.”
“Children can want what hurts them if it makes adults need them.”
That sentence struck both.
Nathan closed his eyes.
“Damn.”
Clara smiled faintly.
“You really are becoming fond of saying I’m right.”
“Don't ruin it.”
The next morning, Nathan told Ethan he would no longer be responsible for getting the younger children dressed.
The boy became angry.
“I always do it.”
“I know.”
“Why change?”
“Because you're fourteen.”
“So?”
“So your job is not being their father.”
Ethan’s face went pale.
Clara watched from the stove.
The boy shouted:
“I never said it was.”
“No.”
“I did.”
Ethan stormed outside.
Nathan looked destroyed.
Clara said:
“Go after him.”
“He needs space.”
“He needs proof you meant it.”
Nathan looked at her.
Then followed.
They returned an hour later.
Ethan’s eyes were red.
Nathan’s too.
Neither discussed it.
That afternoon Ethan saddled a horse and rode alone for the first time in months simply because he wanted to.
Clara watched from the porch.
Nathan stood beside her.
“Thank you.”
“Don't.”
“Why?”
“Because if you turn every correction into gratitude, I’ll become unbearable.”
He looked toward her.
“I suspect that risk has passed.”
She elbowed him.
Hard.
He laughed.
That was the first time the children heard their father laugh with Clara.
All five appeared in windows.
Nathan noticed.
His laughter stopped.
Clara looked at him.
“Do it again.”
“What?”
“Laugh.”
“That isn’t how—”
She poked his ribs.
Nathan nearly jumped.
Clara stared.
“Ticklish?”
“No.”
She touched the same place.
He caught her wrist.
For one instant they stood too close.
His hand around hers.
Her face inches from his chest.
The air changed.
Nathan released her immediately.
Clara stepped back.
Neither spoke.
From the window Samuel whispered:
“Oh.”
Nathan looked up.
Five faces disappeared.
Clara started laughing.
Nathan covered his face.
That night neither adult slept well.
On the morning of Clara’s fourth day, the eastbound train was due at ten.
Her promised decision.
Stay.
Or leave.
She packed before breakfast.