“I haven’t asked.”
“Yes.”
“Clara.”
“Yes.”
He laughed.
“Will you marry me?”
“Yes.”
Then she pulled him upward and kissed him before he froze kneeling in snow.
They married in spring.
Not Red Hollow church.
Clara wanted no audience large enough to turn her joy into discussion.
Sheriff Dwyer officiated at cabin because territorial law allowed him.
Helen Larkin attended.
So did Owen and his wife from neighboring ranch.
Caleb wore a clean brown coat and looked terrified.
Clara wore pale blue.
Not because it made her appear thinner.
Not because someone advised vertical seams.
Because she loved the color.
When sheriff asked if Caleb took Clara willingly, Caleb said:
“More than willingly.”
Dwyer sighed.
“Just say yes.”
“Yes.”
Clara laughed.
Her turn.
“Yes.”
“No speech?”
the sheriff asked.
“I’m saving it.”
They kissed.
Later that evening, after guests descended mountain, Clara stood in bedroom.
Caleb hovered near door.
Married now.
Properly.
He still looked as nervous as first time.
Clara smiled.
“You survived blizzards.”
“Yes.”
“Wolves.”
“Yes.”
“A murder trial.”
“I was witness.”
“Same difference.”
Caleb narrowed eyes.
“And yet one wife frightens you.”
“You specifically.”
“Good.”
She crossed room.
He stayed.
Clara rested hands on his chest.
“Do you remember porch?”
“Yes.”
“When you said you couldn't control yourself?”
“I regret wording.”
“I don't.”
Caleb’s hands remained at his sides.
Clara whispered:
“You can hold me.”
“Sure?”
“Yes.”
He wrapped arms around her slowly.
Her body settled against his.
No shame.
No bracing for joke.
No apology.
Caleb looked down.
“You’re trembling.”
Clara smiled.
“You finally managed.”
He laughed softly.
Then kissed her.
What followed was private.
Tender.
Adult.
Chosen.
Nothing was taken.
Nothing owed.
In the morning Clara woke wrapped in his arm with Bear snoring at foot of bed.
She stared at ceiling.
Caleb opened one eye.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s suspicious.”
Clara turned toward him.
“I’m happy.”
He smiled.
“Sounds serious.”
“It is.”
Their life became less sensational afterward.
Which was exactly what Clara wanted.
The mill settlement gave her enough money to buy additional cattle and repair Caleb’s barn.
She insisted half remain in her own account.
Caleb agreed before she explained why.
That mattered.
They expanded cabin.
Not because Clara needed more space.
Because one bedroom became two when their daughter Margaret arrived two years later.