No robe.
His face changed.
She almost laughed.
“You look terrified again.”
“I have learned that when you close that door, my life becomes complicated.”
She approached.
This time he did not back away.
But he did not reach for her either.
Clara placed both hands against his chest.
His heart beat hard beneath her palms.
“You asked me once to tell you what I want.”
“Yes.”
“I want you.”
Elias’s eyes searched hers.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“If you change your mind—”
“I know.”
“Clara.”
She smiled.
“You are ruining your own moment.”
His mouth twitched.
“Likely.”
She kissed him.
What happened after belonged to them.
Not because it was perfect.
It wasn't.
There was laughter.
Awkwardness.
A moment when Clara froze and Elias stopped instantly.
She cried.
He assumed he had hurt her.
She had to explain that stopping had made her cry.
Later they lay beneath the brown wool blanket while rain struck the roof.
Clara rested her head against his shoulder.
“Elias?”
“Yes?”
“You do know how to please a woman.”
He looked deeply satisfied.
“I suspected.”
She lifted her head.
“No.”
“You were terrified.”
“I am rewriting memory.”
“Absolutely not.”
He kissed her forehead.
“Then perhaps I learned.”
Clara smiled.
“Better answer.”
Summer brought people.
Too many, according to Elias.
Travelers stopped for water.
Ranchers came to discuss the railroad survey.
A widow named Margaret Sloan asked Clara to help contest a debt claim suspiciously similar to hers.
Clara did.
Then another woman came.
Then another.
Within a year, Clara had become something between bookkeeper and informal advocate for women who had been told papers were too complicated for them.
Elias complained that their table was always covered in documents.
Then built her a desk.
“You dislike my papers.”
“I dislike gravy on legal documents.”
“That happened once.”
“It was an important letter.”
“It survived.”
“Barely.”
He placed the desk near the window.
Clara ran her hand across the smooth top.
“You made this.”
“No.”
“Elias.”
“Yes.”
She kissed him.
He smiled into her hair.
The railroad eventually chose another route.
Harlan had chased spring rights for nothing.
That amused Elias more than prison would have.
Clara thought it appropriate.
Three years passed.
Then five.
No children came.
At first Clara did not think much about it.