Clara swallowed.
"Yes."
He untied the ribbon.
For the next several minutes, he read without speaking.
Clara watched his face.
She could see anger returning as he examined Edmund's promises.
Then concern when he reached the attorney's proposal.
Then something darker when he read the provision concerning the child's future.
Gabriel stopped.
Read the paragraph again.
Then looked up.
"He wanted you to agree to hand over the baby?"
Clara nodded.
"Not immediately. After birth."
Gabriel stared.
"Did Edmund sign these papers?"
"The proposal came from his attorney."
Gabriel examined the document.
Then placed it down.
For a long moment, he looked toward the window.
Finally, he said, "We need advice."
Clara's stomach tightened.
"From whom?"
"Someone who understands the law."
She lowered her eyes.
"I can't afford a lawyer."
Gabriel looked toward her.
"I didn't ask whether you could."
Her eyes filled.
He seemed to realize how the words might sound.
Then he added, "I'm not promising the problem will be simple. But we should understand what he can actually do."
Clara swallowed.
"Why would you help me?"
Gabriel looked at the documents.
For several seconds, he didn't answer.
Then he said quietly, "Because you shouldn't have to sign away your child simply because a rich man frightened you."
Clara began crying.
Gabriel looked uncomfortable.
He reached toward a folded cloth beside the bread.
Then handed it to her.
She accepted it.
Wiped her cheeks.
And whispered, "I'm sorry."
He nodded.
"I know."
She looked up.
For a moment, hope flickered.
Then Gabriel continued.
"But we haven't settled what happened between us."
Her shoulders fell.
He spoke gently.
"I need you to understand that."
She nodded.
"I do."
Gabriel stood.
Then glanced toward the clock.
"I'll ride into town after chores. Mrs. Bell might be available to visit tomorrow."
Clara looked toward him.
"The midwife?"
"Yes."
She swallowed.
"All right."
He lifted his hat from the hook.
Then stopped.
For a moment, he seemed to struggle with something.
Finally, he looked back at her.
"Clara."
She raised her face.
"Yes?"
His voice was quiet.
"Whatever happens, you needn't be afraid of me."
Her lips trembled.
He looked toward the chair he'd knocked over the previous evening.
"I shouldn't have frightened you."
She shook her head.
"You were angry."
"I was."