Nathaniel shook his head.
For a moment, the dinner table felt different.
Lively.
Comfortable.
Almost like the home Nathaniel remembered from childhood.
They ate beef stew, warm bread, roasted potatoes, and preserved peaches.
Clara asked questions about the ranch.
How many cattle remained?
Which pasture received the most reliable water?
How often did the windmill fail?
Who purchased their supplies?
Nathaniel answered.
Mateo provided details.
Elena occasionally corrected both men.
By the end of dinner, Clara had filled nearly three pages of notes.
Nathaniel looked toward her notebook.
For a moment, he smiled.
“Miss Whitmore, are you planning to marry me or inspect me?”
Clara looked up.
“Possibly both.”
Mateo nearly choked on his coffee.
Elena burst into laughter.
Nathaniel felt heat rise into his face.
Then he began laughing too.
It was the first dinner in months that ended without everyone worrying about the following day's work.
The next morning, Clara woke before sunrise.
She couldn't move through the ranch as quickly as Nathaniel or Mateo, and she didn't pretend otherwise.
Instead, she organized her work around what she could do effectively.
She reviewed the accounts at the kitchen table.
Examined repair plans.
Prepared material lists.
And asked Mateo to bring her the damaged pump components so she could inspect them.
When necessary, she directed work from a sturdy seat near the workshop rather than standing for hours in the sun.
Nathaniel initially tried to help with everything.
He carried her notebooks.
Moved tools.
And repeatedly asked whether she needed to rest.
By the third day, Clara finally looked at him.
“Nathaniel.”
He turned.
“Yes?”
She smiled.
“You're a kind man.”
He frowned.
“I try.”
“But if you ask whether I need help every time I reach for a pencil, we're both going to become very tired.”
He stared.
For a moment, he looked embarrassed.
Then he nodded.
“Fair enough.”
She softened.
“I'll tell you when I need assistance.”
He smiled faintly.
“And you'll tell me when I'm being foolish?”
Clara raised one eyebrow.
“I thought we'd already established that.”
Nathaniel laughed.
After that, their work became easier.
Clara discovered that several ranch expenses had been recorded inconsistently.
Feed purchases were mixed with equipment costs.
Repairs were scattered across different notebooks.
And some cattle sales had been entered without including transportation expenses.
Nathaniel wasn't dishonest.
He simply hated bookkeeping.