"I said my wife had plenty of fancy things back east, but she'd come here to work. I wanted something she could wear without worrying about breaking it."
Eleanor felt tears gather.
He continued.
"The man showed me a dozen pieces. This one looked like something you might like."
For a moment, she couldn't speak.
Then she whispered, "It's beautiful."
Silas smiled.
"Good."
She touched the brooch.
Then looked toward him.
"Will you help me put it on?"
He nodded.
She turned.
Silas stepped closer.
His broad fingers handled the delicate clasp with extraordinary care.
He fastened it near the shoulder of her green dress.
Then stepped back.
Eleanor turned toward him.
"How does it look?"
Silas stared.
For a moment, he seemed to forget how to answer.
Then he smiled slowly.
"Like it belonged there."
Eleanor's eyes filled.
She stepped closer.
Placed both hands against his chest.
And kissed him.
Silas hesitated only briefly before returning the kiss.
It deepened gently.
Not hurried.
Not demanding.
When they separated, he rested his forehead against hers.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Eleanor whispered, "You know, I've never been given a present simply because someone wanted to make me happy."
Silas drew back.
He looked astonished.
"Never?"
She smiled sadly.
"Father's gifts usually came with expectations."
His expression changed.
For a moment, he seemed angry on her behalf.
Then he touched her cheek.
"Well, you'll have to get used to it."
She laughed softly.
He smiled.
"Because I intend to be terribly inconvenient that way."
Eleanor rested against him.
And for one precious moment, Christmas meant exactly what she'd once wished it could.
A warm house.
A kind husband.
And a gift that asked nothing in return.
The trouble began three days after New Year's.
Owen Mercer discovered that the gate along the eastern grazing boundary had been opened during the night.
Several cattle were missing.
At first, Silas assumed wind or a damaged latch.
But when the men examined the gate, they found that the locking chain had been removed deliberately.
Hoofprints crossed the frozen ground.
A wagon had been parked near the road.
And the tracks suggested someone had driven animals out of the enclosure.
Silas's expression hardened.
He followed the trail for several miles.
The missing cattle had been moved toward the land leased by a company connected to Horace Whitmore's western business interests.