"Then start by remembering she's frightened."
He looked down.
For a moment, he seemed ashamed.
Then nodded.
"I know."
Martha studied him.
She had delivered children in wealthy homes and poor cabins.
She had watched good marriages grow stronger under hardship.
And she had watched frightened people injure one another with words they later regretted.
She understood more than either Gabriel or Clara realized.
Finally, she said, "A child needs food, shelter, and care. The adults need honesty."
Gabriel looked toward her.
Martha gathered her bag.
"See that you give one another both."
Then she left.
Gabriel stood beside the kitchen table long after her wagon disappeared.
For the first time since Clara's confession, he felt something approaching a plan.
Not a solution.
Not forgiveness.
A plan.
He could make sure Clara received care.
He could learn what Edmund Vale actually had the power to do.
He could protect the ranch.
And he could take time deciding what kind of marriage he and Clara might still build.
For the moment, that would have to be enough.
By the end of October, the first serious frost had covered the valley.
The grass turned silver before sunrise.
Water froze in shallow buckets.
And Gabriel began spending longer hours preparing the ranch for the winter he knew was coming.
He repaired the northern fence.
Stacked firewood.
Moved feed beneath cover.
Checked the roof above the stable.
And counted the cattle twice because an early storm could scatter a herd before anyone realized what had happened.
Clara wanted to help.
At first, Gabriel resisted.
He worried about her pregnancy.
He worried that she didn't understand the physical demands of ranch work.
And perhaps, though he would never have admitted it, he worried about allowing himself to enjoy her company.
It was easier to remain busy than to sit across from her and remember what had happened.
But Clara wasn't a woman who could spend every day waiting for someone to decide she was useful.
One morning, she found him struggling with a stack of invoices.
He sat at the kitchen table with his brow furrowed.
Three sheets of paper lay beside an open ledger.
A pencil rested between his fingers.
Clara approached.
"Is something wrong?"
Gabriel looked up.
"Nothing worth troubling you over."
She glanced at the papers.
"Accounts?"
He nodded.
"The feed supplier's figures don't make sense."
Clara hesitated.
"May I see?"
Gabriel looked toward her.
For a moment, he seemed ready to refuse.
Then he pushed the papers across the table.
"Go ahead."
She sat.
Examined the invoices.
Compared the quantities.
Then opened the ranch ledger.
Gabriel watched silently.
Within ten minutes, she identified the problem.
The supplier had billed the ranch for twenty additional sacks of grain that never appeared on the delivery record.
There was also a duplicate charge for freight.
Clara circled the entries.
"Here."
Gabriel leaned closer.
She explained.
He stared.
Then looked toward the invoice again.
"You're certain?"
She nodded.
"The totals only match if you count the same shipment twice."
Gabriel scratched his beard.