Outside the courthouse, the judge approached.
He looked toward Daniel's borrowed coat.
Then toward Elizabeth.
“Congratulations.”
She said nothing.
Victor smirked.
“Enjoy your new life, Mrs. Carter.”
Daniel stepped between them.
He didn't raise his voice.
“Thank you.”
Victor frowned.
Daniel continued.
“We should be going.”
The judge looked amused.
“In a hurry to begin married life?”
Daniel met his eyes.
“In a hurry to take my wife away from people who have already said enough.”
The judge's smile disappeared.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Daniel turned toward Elizabeth.
“Are you ready?”
She looked toward the wagon.
It was plain.
Weathered.
Drawn by a strong bay horse.
Nothing like the elegant carriage she'd expected to ride on her wedding day.
She thought about the mansion.
Her father.
The guests whispering behind them.
Then she looked toward Daniel.
“Yes.”
He offered his hand.
This time, she took it.
And together, they left Silver Creek.
The journey to Daniel's cabin took nearly three hours.
For the first twenty minutes, Elizabeth sat beside him without speaking. The wagon rocked across the uneven road, its wooden wheels rattling over stones while the bay horse moved steadily toward the foothills.
She stared at the landscape.
The enormous Hawthorne estate had disappeared behind them.
So had the fine carriage house, the gardens, the marble fireplaces, and the bedroom where she'd spent most of her life imagining what freedom might feel like.
Now she had no money of her own.
No familiar home.
And a husband she had exchanged fewer than a hundred words with.
She folded her hands in her lap.
Daniel noticed.
He also noticed the way she kept glancing toward the road behind them.
“You can ask me anything,” he said.
Elizabeth looked toward him.
“Anything?”
He nodded.
She studied his profile.
The long dark hair.
The rugged beard.
The powerful arms beneath his borrowed coat.