Then the preacher completed the ceremony.
Caleb looked toward Martha.
She nodded before he even asked.
He kissed her gently.
The guests applauded.
Jonah cheered loudly enough to frighten one of the horses.
And Esther began crying before insisting that everyone come eat while the food was still warm.
That evening, after the guests departed, Caleb and Martha stood inside their cabin.
The decorations were still hanging near the windows.
Wildflowers rested in a vase on the table.
And the iron stove burned quietly beside the bed.
For a moment, Martha stood near the same chair where Caleb had placed his coat on the night he discovered her scars.
She remembered how frightened she'd been.
How she'd clutched the blanket.
How she'd believed that the sight of her body would make him reject her completely.
Caleb noticed her expression.
He approached slowly.
"What's on your mind?"
She smiled faintly.
"That night."
He looked toward the chair.
Then he understood.
For several seconds, he was quiet.
Finally, he said, "I remember."
Martha looked at him.
"I thought you'd never look at me the same way again."
Caleb took her hand.
"I didn't."
Her expression changed.
He continued gently.
"After that night, I stopped seeing the woman I'd judged on the stagecoach and began understanding the woman I'd been too foolish to know."
Martha's eyes filled.
Caleb shook his head.
"Not because of the scars. Because you trusted me enough to tell me the truth, even when you were afraid."
She looked down.
Then she whispered, "Sometimes I still feel ashamed of them."
Caleb nodded.
"I know."
He didn't tell her the feeling was foolish.
He didn't insist that love should make the shame disappear.
Instead, he said, "They don't make you less beautiful to me. And you never have to show them to prove anything."
Martha looked up.
For several seconds, she studied his face.
Then she stepped closer.
"May I ask you something?"
Caleb smiled.
"Anything."
She took a breath.
"Will you hold me?"
His expression softened.
"Of course."
He opened his arms.
Martha stepped into them.
He held her gently, careful not to grip too tightly, and she rested her cheek against his chest.
For the first time in years, she didn't feel the need to hide.
She was still the same woman.
Large.
Soft.
Strong.
With dark hair, capable hands, and scars that carried memories she hadn't chosen.
But she was no longer standing alone before a man who believed her worth depended on how closely she resembled his expectations.
She was standing beside someone who knew her.
Someone who had learned to respect her.
And someone who loved her without asking her to become smaller.
The years that followed weren't perfect.
Winters remained harsh.
The barn needed repairs.
Some crops failed.
And there were mornings when Caleb's old injuries troubled him so much that he could barely rise from the chair beside the stove.