“Have you lost your mind?”
“Possibly.”
She stared.
Elias stepped toward the hearth but not toward her.
“I asked the attorney in Leadville to prepare it.”
“Why?”
He looked at the flames.
“Because I paid your debts.”
Clara’s hand tightened around the deed.
“That makes no sense.”
“It does to me.”
“How?”
He took a long breath.
“Because I didn't want you waking up tomorrow and thinking those debts made you mine.”
The room disappeared for a moment.
Clara heard the fire.
The wind.
Her own breathing.
Nothing else.
Elias continued without looking at her.
“If this marriage turns out to be a mistake, you still own half.”
“If you decide in a month that you cannot stand me, you can sell your interest.”
“If I become cruel, you have something that doesn't depend on my permission.”
“If I die, nobody can put you out because some distant Mercer cousin claims the cabin.”
Clara could not speak.
He looked at her.
“And if you stay, I want it to be because you choose to.”
She lowered her eyes to the document.
The names blurred.
“You expect me to believe you gave me half your ranch so I would feel free to leave you?”
“Yes.”
“That is the stupidest courtship I have ever heard.”
Elias nodded.
“I have very little practice.”
A laugh escaped through her tears.
She wiped at them angrily.
“I don't cry.”
“I didn't say anything.”
“You were about to.”
“I wasn't.”
“You looked like you were.”
“I was actually wondering if giving you the deed before supper would have saved us the last hour.”
Clara laughed again.
Then the laughter broke.
The tears came harder.
She turned away from him.
Embarrassed.
Frederick had despised crying.
“Stop that.”
he used to say.
“You look foolish.”
Elias said nothing.
He did not touch her.
That somehow made her cry more.
After a minute she heard his boots move.
She flinched instinctively.
The steps stopped immediately.
“I was getting you a handkerchief.”
Clara covered her face.
“I’m ridiculous.”
“No.”
“I locked the door and asked whether you know how to please a woman because I thought…”
She could not finish.
Elias waited.
She forced herself.
“I thought if I offered first, I could control it.”
The silence changed.
She kept her back to him.
“My first husband liked reminding me that marriage gave him rights.”
Elias’s voice came lower.
“Clara.”
“I don't need pity.”
“You're not getting it.”
She turned.
His face had hardened.
Not toward her.
Toward a dead man.
“What did he do?”
“Nothing I want to discuss tonight.”
Elias's jaw worked.
“Fine.”
“You're angry.”