“I wasn’t asking because of the ranch.”
“Good.”
“I’ve been trying not to ask because of the ranch.”
“Worse.”
He rubbed his face.
“I told you I’m not good at this.”
Emma began laughing.
He stared.
She laughed harder.
Eventually he smiled.
“Can I start again?”
“Yes.”
Elias stood.
Walked around the table.
Then knelt.
Emma stopped laughing.
He took her hand.
“I don’t need a wife to save the ranch.”
“You may save it anyway.”
“That’s not why I’m asking.”
He looked directly at her.
“I want the woman who insults my coffee.”
“Who reorganized my pantry without permission.”
“Who makes Levi afraid to submit receipts.”
From the porch Levi shouted:
“I can hear you.”
Emma laughed through tears.
Elias continued.
“I want the woman who stopped me from hitting Amos because she wanted justice more than a show.”
“I want the woman who reads six pages of bank language and calls it short.”
“I want you.”
Emma’s throat tightened.
Elias looked at her hand.
“I don’t have a fine ring.”
“I don’t need one.”
“I don’t know what the ranch will look like next month.”
“I know.”
“I may lose it.”
“I know.”
He looked up.
“If I lose every acre tomorrow, I still want you beside me the next morning.”
Emma’s tears fell.
“Ask properly.”
His mouth twitched.
“Emma Whitaker, will you marry me?”
She looked at the man kneeling before her.
Nathaniel had proposed in a hotel dining room while six people watched.
After Emma said yes, he whispered:
Good. I’d already told everyone you would.
Elias looked as though he would accept any answer she gave.
That difference mattered more than diamonds.
“Yes.”
Elias exhaled.
Emma smiled.
“But.”
His face fell.
“There’s always a but.”
“I keep Whitaker in my name.”
“Fine.”
“I see all accounts.”
“Please.”
“If you ever joke about what I eat—”
“I enjoy living.”
“If you make decisions about my body without me—”
“I won’t.”
“If you stop wanting me—”
Elias’s expression changed.
Emma forced herself to finish.
“You tell me.”
He stood.
“Same rules for you.”
She nodded.
“And one more.”
“What?”
His hand touched her face.
“If I ever make you feel ashamed to take up space in your own house, you tell me before the shame has time to settle.”
Emma cried.
Elias kissed her.
Levi shouted from the porch:
“Does this mean supper is late?”
Emma pulled away.
“Fire him.”
Elias laughed.
“Best foreman in Kansas.”
“Then reduce his wages.”
“I heard that too!”
They married three days later beneath the cottonwoods beside the spring.
Not because of Bell.
Not because of the foreclosure.
Because Emma refused to let Harlan Bell determine even the date of her happiness.
Reverend Caleb Shaw came from town.
Abigail brought cake.
Levi wore a jacket that had not fit since 1879.
Ben polished his boots.
Sheriff Pike attended alone.
His brother did not.
Emma wore deep blue.
Not dark enough to hide.
She had altered the neckline herself, lowering it slightly and edging it with cream lace because she liked the way her chest looked when she stopped trying to disguise it.
Abigail helped arrange her hair.
“You nervous?”