Clara arguing with Samuel.
Samuel’s wife laughing.
Six grandchildren.
Daniel asleep in chair pretending not to be.
She answered:
“Two.”
The woman looked surprised.
“Only two?”
Emily smiled.
“Two was plenty.”
Later Daniel found her outside on porch.
Snow fell lightly.
“You're cold.”
“So are you.”
“I came to rescue you.”
“Heroic.”
He wrapped a blanket around both of them.
Inside, someone dropped a pan.
Samuel shouted.
Children laughed.
Daniel looked through window.
“Remember our wedding night?”
Emily smiled.
“I remember thinking you were about to send me away.”
“I remember thinking you wanted me gone.”
“We were idiots.”
“Yes.”
Daniel rubbed his thumb across her knuckles.
“You remember telegram?”
“Yes.”
“I hated that telegram.”
Emily looked at him.
“What?”
“It told me Nathan was dead.”
“True.”
“But it also brought them.”
“Yes.”
He watched snow.
“I used to think life divided itself cleanly.”
“Good news.”
“Bad news.”
Emily nodded.
“It doesn't.”
“No.”
He looked at her.
“Best thing that ever happened to me began with you crying because you thought you had ruined my future.”
Emily smiled.
“That is not romantic.”
“I’m old.”
“I no longer need technique.”
She laughed.
Then leaned into him.
Daniel whispered:
“You know what I would change?”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Emily pulled away.
“That is sentimental nonsense.”
He looked offended.
“I was trying to be romantic.”
“You failed.”
She smiled.
“I would change things.”
Daniel waited.
“I would tell you sooner.”
“About doctor.”
“Yes.”
“I would save you those months of believing I loved you conditionally.”
Daniel nodded.
“I would tell Clara sooner that adults can be trusted.”
“Even though she wouldn't believe us.”
“Yes.”
“I would stop Cyrus before he stole cows.”
“Excellent.”
“I would make you rest your leg.”
“That is tyranny.”
Emily laughed.
Then became quiet.
“But I would not change choosing you.”
Daniel’s expression softened.
“Neither would I.”
He kissed her forehead.
They sat until cold drove them inside.
Daniel died first.
Eighty-two.
Peacefully.
Not on horseback.