“I heard that,” Ethan said.
Nathan ignored him.
“The first was a woman named Mrs. Bell.”
“Widow?”
“Yes.”
“Age?”
“Thirty-two.”
“And she left after six days.”
“Five,” Samuel corrected.
Ethan elbowed him.
Nathan continued.
“She thought she was coming to keep house.”
Clara turned.
“Not marry you?”
“No.”
“Then why did she leave?”
“She had not been told about the children.”
Clara stared.
Nathan looked uncomfortable.
“The agency seems consistent.”
“And the second?”
“A woman from Cheyenne.”
“Name?”
“Miss Porter.”
“How long?”
“She never reached the ranch.”
“What happened?”
“She saw all five children at the station.”
Samuel said:
“She got back on the train.”
Clara looked over her shoulder.
The two older boys were trying not to smile.
Even Ethan’s mouth twitched.
Clara faced forward again.
“So I have already exceeded one predecessor.”
“By approximately forty minutes.”
Nathan said it with such dry seriousness that Clara looked at him.
Was that humor?
His eyes remained on the road.
Maybe.
She asked:
“Did either woman receive Mara’s letter?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“The first was not the person the letter described.”
Clara frowned.
“What did it describe?”
Nathan’s hands tightened slightly on the reins.
“I don’t know.”
“You didn’t open it.”
“No.”
“Then how did you know?”
“Mara wrote instructions on the outer envelope.”
“What instructions?”
He glanced toward Clara.
“Not to give it to anyone who came only because of wages.”
That offended her unexpectedly.
“I came because of wages.”
Nathan’s expression did not change.
“That’s why I haven’t asked you to read it yet.”
Clara stared.
“You handed it to me.”
“Yes.”
“You just said—”
“Mara didn’t say the woman couldn’t need money.”
“What did she say?”
Nathan looked toward the road.
“She said I would know the difference between someone who needed wages and someone who saw the children as wages.”
Behind them, the wagon became silent.
Clara turned slightly.
All five children were listening.
Nathan continued.
“Mrs. Bell counted beds before names.”
Clara said nothing.
“She asked whether Ethan could work full days.”
“He was thirteen.”
Nathan’s voice changed.
“Yes.”
“She asked if Samuel could sleep in the barn so the younger children could share one room and she could have his.”
Clara looked back at Samuel.
He was staring at the floorboards.
Nathan continued.
“She wasn’t cruel.”
“She was practical.”
“There’s a difference.”
“Sometimes.”
“She left when I told her I wouldn’t send Ethan out as hired labor to cover her salary.”