Samuel waved.
Clara waved back.
Then she looked at Nathaniel.
“I'll visit.”
Martha inhaled sharply.
Nathaniel smiled.
“Good.”
“I did not agree to marriage.”
“I heard you.”
“I mean it.”
“So do I.”
“One week.”
“Yes.”
“My own room.”
“Yes.”
“If I decide no—”
“I bring you home.”
“If your children dislike me—”
“We discuss it.”
“You don't force them.”
“No.”
“If you decide no—”
“I tell you directly.”
“No disappearing.”
“No.”
“No pretending the ranch needs something when you mean you do.”
Nathaniel smiled faintly.
“That rule goes both ways.”
Clara lifted her chin.
“Fine.”
He extended his hand.
She looked at it.
Then took it.
Martha said behind them:
“You'll regret this.”
Clara turned.
For years, Martha’s judgment had sounded like prophecy.
Today it sounded like noise.
“Perhaps.”
Martha looked surprised.
Clara continued:
“But if I do, at least it will be my regret.”
She released Nathaniel’s hand.
The next morning, Clara left Red Hollow.
Not permanently.
Not yet.
She packed two dresses.
A shawl.
Sewing needles.
A small Bible that had belonged to Mateo.