Silas laughed.
"His mistake."
She nodded.
"One of several."
They worked until the lamps were lit.
By the time they finished, Eleanor had prepared a clear summary of the ranch's income, expenses, debts, and possible repayment options.
Silas studied it.
Then looked toward her.
For a moment, he seemed almost astonished.
"Eleanor."
She raised her eyes.
"Yes?"
"That's the first time anybody's made these accounts look understandable."
She smiled.
"I'm glad."
He shook his head.
"No, I mean it."
For several seconds, he examined the figures.
Then looked directly at her.
"I've spent twelve years building this place with my hands."
Eleanor listened.
He continued.
"I never thought about how useful it might be to have someone who could see the whole thing on paper."
Her eyes filled.
She laughed nervously.
"Well, perhaps now you'll stop worrying that I can't make biscuits."
Silas smiled.
"Not a chance."
She laughed.
Then he reached across the table.
His rough fingers rested beside hers.
For a moment, he hesitated.
Then he took her hand.
"Eleanor."
She looked up.
"I'm glad you're here."
The words were simple.
But they struck her harder than any compliment she'd received in Boston.
She swallowed.
Then whispered, "So am I."
For a long moment, neither moved.
The fire burned quietly.
Outside, the cattle settled beneath the darkening sky.
And Eleanor began to understand that partnership wasn't merely sharing work.
It was allowing another person to see what you couldn't.
Then trusting them enough to listen.
The first serious disagreement of their marriage began over a lame cow.
It was the fourth morning after the wedding, cold enough for frost to remain on the fence rails well past sunrise.
Silas had gone to the southern pasture with Owen Mercer and two younger ranch hands.
Eleanor remained at the house, organizing supplies and trying for the third time to make biscuits that could be eaten without risking a tooth.
She was making progress.
The dough rose.
The stove behaved.
And for once, nothing caught fire.
Then she heard shouting outside.
She set down the mixing bowl and stepped onto the porch.
Near the lower corral, two ranch hands were struggling with a brown cow that refused to move through the gate.
One man pulled at a rope.
The other pushed against the animal's flank.
The cow stumbled.
A young hand cursed.
Silas appeared from the far side of the enclosure and ordered everyone to stop.
Eleanor hurried toward them.