Not because she was useful.
Because he loved her.
Their wedding took place in June, when the meadows were green and the mountain roads had finally opened.
Clara had insisted on waiting until the spring planting was finished.
Caleb had protested only once.
Not because he wanted to hurry her.
Because he had spent forty-four years unmarried and was beginning to suspect that another month would feel longer than the entire preceding winter.
Clara laughed when he said so.
"Then you can use the time to decide where your boots belong."
He looked confused.
"My boots?"
"Yes. Your cabin is on the upper ridge. Mine is here. We haven't discussed where we'll live."
Caleb considered the question.
Then nodded.
"Fair."
Clara smiled.
He looked toward her homestead.
For a moment, she wondered whether he would expect her to move.
Most married women she knew had gone to live on their husbands' land.
Some had been happy.
Others had lost the only property or independence they possessed.
Clara loved her little farm.
Its rocky soil.
The crooked fence.
The kitchen her father had built.
The garden her mother had planted.
The shelves lined with preserving jars.
She did not want marriage to mean abandoning everything she had struggled to keep.
Caleb seemed to read her thoughts.
"I'd like to live here."
Clara stared.
"Here?"
He nodded.
"If you'll have me."
"What about your cabin?"
"We can keep it for timber work and winter trips. Maybe use it when the upper trail needs shelter."
She studied his face.
"You don't mind?"
Caleb looked toward the house.
"Clara, I've spent years living in a cabin where nobody waited for me."
He smiled gently.
"I'd rather come home to you."
Tears filled her eyes.
She looked toward the garden.
Then back at him.
"But the land remains mine."
Caleb nodded.
"Of course."
She swallowed.
"And I want to keep doing the preserving work."
He smiled.
"I'd be a fool to stop you."
She laughed.
"And the community grain association?"
"Needs you."
"Not forever. I want other people trained to manage it."
"Then I'll help build the storage shelves."
Clara looked at him.
He took her hand.
"We're making a life together. Not taking turns giving up who we are."
She leaned against his chest.
For a long moment, she simply held him.
Then she whispered, "I think my mother would have liked you."
Caleb kissed her hair.
"I hope so."
"She would've put you to work."
He laughed.
"Now that I believe."
The ceremony was held in the meadow beside Clara's homestead.
The entire settlement attended.
Amos Pike arranged transportation for elderly neighbors.
Hester helped decorate the tables.
Martha Bell baked bread.
Miss Whitfield brought wildflowers gathered by her pupils.
Peter Carter repaired the gate and hung a small wooden sign above it.