His expression was unreadable.
Graves smiled.
"Your ranch carries a note due next spring, Mr. Boone. A substantial note."
Silas said nothing.
"And perhaps," Graves continued softly, "the people controlling that note would look more favorably upon your circumstances if Miss Whitmore returned home voluntarily."
Eleanor felt sick.
Her father hadn't simply found her.
He had found the one thing Silas loved enough to fight for.
His land.
The attorney looked pleased with himself.
"Now perhaps we can discuss this like reasonable men."
Silas stared at him for several seconds.
Then looked toward Eleanor.
She was trembling.
Not because she feared the rancher.
Because she believed she'd just destroyed his future.
Her lips parted.
"Silas, I didn't know."
He studied her face.
For a moment, the whole church seemed to wait for his decision.
Then he slowly reached for her hand.
His fingers closed around hers.
He turned toward the pastor.
"Reverend."
The older man looked up.
"Yes?"
Silas's voice was steady.
"Where were we?"
Graves stared.
"Mr. Boone, surely you understandβ"
Silas didn't even look at him.
"I asked the reverend a question."
Pastor Price glanced at Eleanor.
Her eyes were filled with tears.
Then he smiled gently.
"We were at the vows."
Silas nodded.
"Good."
He turned toward Eleanor.
And in front of the Boston attorney, the astonished congregation, and a room full of people who had expected the wedding to end in humiliation, he spoke the words that would bind them together.
"I, Silas Boone, take you, Eleanor Whitmore, to be my wife."
His voice caught slightly.
He steadied it.
"To stand beside you in good weather and bad, in honest work and hardship, for as long as we both shall live."
Eleanor began crying.
She looked toward his face.
The broad shoulders.
The rugged beard.
The stern eyes that now held a tenderness she'd barely dared imagine.
Then she took his other hand.
"I, Eleanor Whitmore, take you, Silas Boone, to be my husband."
Her voice trembled.
But she didn't look away.
"I promise to tell you the truth, even when it frightens me. To share your work, protect our home, and stand beside you when the world demands that I step away."
Silas swallowed.
She smiled through tears.
"And if there's a fight worth fighting, you won't have to face it alone."
A quiet murmur rose among the guests.
The pastor smiled.
Then finished the ceremony.
When he pronounced them husband and wife, Silas leaned toward Eleanor.
For the first time, the enormous rancher looked uncertain.
"May I?"