Now he stood beside the morning window holding a baby who shared none of his blood, and he felt something he'd never experienced before.
Not the pride of knowing he had created a life.
The responsibility of knowing a life might trust him.
He looked toward the sleeping Clara.
Then back at the child.
His voice broke.
"I don't know much about this."
The baby stirred.
He smiled through tears.
"But I'll learn."
For a moment, he was quiet.
Then he whispered, "I promise."
They named her Rose.
The decision came two days after her birth, when Clara was resting beside the fire and Gabriel was carrying the baby carefully around the kitchen.
He had discovered that Rose settled more easily when he walked slowly and spoke in a low voice.
So he walked.
From the fireplace to the window.
From the window to the pantry.
Then back again.
Sometimes he described the ranch.
Sometimes he recited poetry.
Sometimes he told the baby about the weather.
Clara found it almost unbearably sweet.
That afternoon, Gabriel was explaining the difference between a mare and a gelding when Clara began laughing.
He looked toward her.
"What?"
She shook her head.
"Nothing."
He frowned.
"Clara."
She smiled.
"She's three days old."
He nodded seriously.
"Good age to begin learning."
Clara laughed harder.
Gabriel grinned.
Then continued speaking to the baby.
For several minutes, the house filled with the sound of his voice.
Clara watched him.
Her heart ached with gratitude.
Then she asked quietly, "What do you think we should call her?"
Gabriel stopped walking.
He looked toward the sleeping child.
For a moment, he seemed uncertain.
"Have you decided?"
Clara shook her head.
"Not completely."
He nodded.
She continued.
"I thought about my mother's name."
Gabriel smiled.
"That's a good choice."
Clara looked toward the window.
"But there's another name I like."
He waited.
She smiled faintly.
"Rose."
Gabriel went still.
For several seconds, he didn't speak.
Clara noticed.
"What's wrong?"
He looked toward her.
"My mother grew roses."
Clara stared.
Gabriel smiled sadly.
"Not many. The soil was poor, and winters could be difficult. But she kept trying."
He looked toward the baby.
"She said a house needed something beautiful growing near it."
Clara's eyes filled.
Gabriel continued.
"When I built this ranch house, I thought about planting roses beside the porch."
He gave a small laugh.
"Never got around to it."
Clara smiled through tears.
"Then perhaps it's time."