There were corrals, hay sheds, a smokehouse, a small orchard, and several fenced fields stretching toward the hills.
Beyond those lay open rangeland where cattle moved like dark spots against the grass.
Silas had built the first two rooms with his own hands twelve years earlier.
Since then, he'd expanded the house twice, added a second barn, purchased neighboring parcels, and grown the herd from twenty-three cattle to several hundred.
People called him prosperous.
He preferred to say the ranch was still learning how to pay for itself.
Land was valuable.
But it couldn't always be converted quickly into money.
Cattle needed feeding before they could be sold.
Fences required repair.
Hired hands needed wages.
Horses became sick.
Storms destroyed sheds.
And a man could own thousands of dollars' worth of property while struggling to find enough cash to meet a debt coming due.
Eleanor understood none of that when she first arrived.
Silas knew it.
He also knew the Boston attorney had chosen his words carefully.
The financial threat was real.
The ranch did have an outstanding note.
But Eleanor deserved the truth before fear filled in the details.
They reached the house near sunset.
Silas helped her down from the wagon.
Her ivory wedding dress brushed against the muddy ground.
She looked toward the broad porch, the stacked firewood, and the faded blue shutters.
For a moment, something softened in her face.
"It's beautiful."
Silas followed her gaze.
The porch railing needed paint.
One shutter hung slightly crooked.
And the roof above the kitchen would require repairs before winter.
He gave a short laugh.
"Depends where you're standing."
Eleanor smiled faintly.
"I've lived in houses with marble floors and ceilings painted by men who traveled from Italy."
He looked toward her.
"And?"
She turned.
"None of them ever felt like they belonged to me."
Silas was quiet.
Then he took her traveling trunk from the wagon.
"Come inside."
The kitchen was large and practical.
An iron stove stood against one wall.
A long wooden table occupied the center.
Shelves held crockery, jars, and folded cloth.
Copper pans hung beside the window.
A stone fireplace opened into the main room, and several sturdy chairs stood around it.
Everything was clean.
Everything was functional.
Almost nothing was decorative.
Eleanor moved slowly through the space.
She touched the back of a chair.
Then looked toward the unfinished doorway leading to another room.
Silas noticed.
"That room's not done."
She smiled.
"You warned me."
He nodded.
"Didn't want you thinking you'd married into a palace."
She looked up.
"I didn't come for a palace."
For a moment, their eyes met.
Then Silas cleared his throat.