Then stopped beside the door.
"An unmarried woman with no independent means may find motherhood more difficult than she imagines."
Clara felt her heart pounding.
He continued.
"And Mr. Vale's family has resources to pursue whatever legal arrangements it considers necessary."
The words sounded polite.
But the threat was unmistakable.
When he left, Clara locked the door.
Then sat on the bed with both hands over her stomach.
For the first time since learning she was pregnant, she truly feared someone might try to take her baby.
She knew the law wasn't as simple as Edmund's attorney implied.
She also knew that a wealthy family could afford lawyers, witnesses, and influence she could never match.
She had little money.
No powerful relatives.
And a pregnancy that would soon become impossible to conceal.
That evening, she opened the newspaper.
Not because she knew what to do.
Because she needed to think about somewhere else.
Somewhere far from St. Louis.
Somewhere Edmund's family couldn't reach her easily.
And there, among the marriage advertisements, she found Gabriel Morrow.
A rancher.
Thirty-eight years old.
Living in Wyoming Territory.
Willing to marry a woman who could share his work and his life.
And honest enough to admit he probably couldn't father children.
Clara stared at the words.
For a long time, she didn't move.
Then she began crying.
She wasn't crying because she'd found an easy answer.
She was crying because, for the first time in weeks, she could imagine a future that didn't end with someone taking her baby away.
She wrote to Gabriel that night.
At first, she intended to tell him everything.
She began a paragraph.
There is something you should know before considering me.
Then she stopped.
What would he think?
Would he believe she had deliberately deceived Edmund?
Would he assume she was searching for a man to support another man's child?
Would he reject her before hearing anything else?
She stared at the unfinished sentence.
Then crossed it out.
She told herself she would explain later.
After Gabriel answered.
After she knew whether he was kind.
After she felt certain he wouldn't turn away.
It was a small postponement.
Or so she believed.
But fear made postponement easier each time she repeated it.
And by the time Gabriel asked her to marry him, the truth had become more difficult to tell than ever.
The first night Clara arrived at the ranch, Gabriel offered her the spare room without hesitation.
He carried her traveling case upstairs.
Placed it beside the bed.
Then stood awkwardly in the doorway.
"The stove pipe runs through this wall, so the room should stay warm."
Clara looked around.
A narrow bed stood beneath a quilt.
There was a washstand.
A wooden chair.
A small wardrobe.
And a window overlooking the eastern pasture.
The room was simple.
But clean.
Comfortable.
And hers.
For the first time in months, she felt something loosen inside her chest.
"It's lovely."
Gabriel looked embarrassed.
"It isn't much."
She turned toward him.
"It's more than enough."
He nodded.
Then shifted his weight.
"I'll sleep across the hall."
Clara looked up.
For a moment, she seemed surprised.