She laughed through tears.
"Yes."
He kissed her gently.
And the church erupted in applause.
Not everyone joined.
Philip Graves stood near the door, his face dark with anger.
But Silas scarcely noticed.
His wife was smiling at him.
For one fleeting moment, that was enough.
Then Graves spoke.
"This isn't finished."
Silas turned.
The attorney held the second document against his chest.
"You have until the first of April to settle the note or face the consequences under its terms."
Eleanor went pale.
Silas looked toward him.
"Then we'll see you in April."
Graves's smile became cold.
"You may discover that a stubborn woman costs more than you can afford."
Silas stepped closer.
For a moment, his sheer size made the attorney recoil.
Then he spoke quietly.
"Whatever my wife costs me, it won't be because she refused to belong to your client."
Graves stared.
Silas continued.
"And when you send a message to Boston, tell Horace Whitmore that his daughter is a grown woman."
He glanced toward Eleanor.
Then back at the lawyer.
"She made her choice."
Graves opened his mouth.
But Silas was finished.
He turned away.
Offered Eleanor his arm.
And walked down the aisle beside her while the congregation rose to its feet.
Only after they stepped outside did Eleanor realize how badly her knees were shaking.
Silas noticed.
He guided her toward the church steps.
"Easy."
She looked up.
"Silas."
He waited.
Her voice broke.
"He can take your ranch."
Silas's jaw tightened.
For a moment, he looked toward the broad Wyoming sky.
Then back at her.
"He can try."
She began crying.
"I'm so sorry."
He shook his head.
"Don't apologize for another man's threats."
"But you don't know what my father is capable of."
Silas looked directly at her.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he answered with an honesty that frightened her more than any boast might have.
"No, Eleanor. I don't."
He reached for her hand.
"But you're going to tell me."
The ranch house stood west of Red Willow, beyond a long stretch of grazing land and a creek that ran between low banks covered with yellowing grass.
From the road, it looked less like an estate than a place earned through stubborn labor.
A large wooden house faced the eastern pasture.
A long barn stood behind it.