“Because half the improvements are yours.”
“No.”
His expression hardened.
Magdalena continued.
“My ideas helped.”
“Your name does not become entitled to your land because you love me.”
He stared.
Then slowly nodded.
Fair.
She smiled.
“However.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“I want profit participation.”
“How much?”
“Ten percent above operating reserve.”
“Seven.”
“Twelve.”
“You negotiated against yourself.”
“I changed conditions.”
He smiled.
“Ten.”
“Done.”
They shook hands.
Then kissed.
That was Castle Ridge romance.
By summer, people in Dry Creek told the story differently.
Some said Magdalena Reed arrived as a cook and trapped Ethan Casteel.
Others said Ethan saved a homeless woman.
Both versions irritated her.
At the general store, an older woman once said:
“You certainly landed well.”
Magdalena looked at her.
“I arrived by wagon.”
The woman frowned.
“I mean Mr. Casteel.”
“I know.”
“He gave you quite a life.”
Magdalena smiled.
“We gave each other work.”
The woman did not understand.
That was fine.
Ethan proposed in August.
Poorly.
Of course.
They stood beside the reopened irrigation channel.
Magdalena had mud on her boots.
Sweat at her neck.
Hair escaping its pins.
Ethan said:
“You're staying?”
She looked at him.
“What?”
“Permanently.”
“You're asking whether I'm quitting?”
“No.”
“Then?”
He removed his hat.
Magdalena realized.
“Oh.”
Ethan looked irritated by his own difficulty.
“I had a speech.”
“What happened?”
“I forgot it.”
“That is reassuring.”
He took a ring from his pocket.
“Marry me.”
She folded her arms.
“Why?”
His eyebrows lifted.
“Dangerous question.”
“Yes.”
He looked toward the ranch.
Then her.
“Because this place became worth saving when you walked into it.”
Magdalena’s expression softened.
Ethan continued.
“And because I sleep badly when you're not beside me.”
She smiled.
“More.”
“You're greedy.”
“Yes.”
“You make better decisions than I do.”
“Obviously.”
“You fight with me.”
“Often.”
“You don't flatter me.”
“Never.”
“You see things everyone else misses.”
Her eyes filled.
“And?”
He stepped closer.
“And every time I imagine this ranch twenty years from now, you're standing somewhere in the picture telling me I did something wrong.”
Magdalena laughed through tears.
“That is possibly the least romantic proposal in Texas.”
“Yes or no?”
She kissed him before answering.
“Yes.”
Their wedding happened at Castle Ridge.
Not Dry Creek church.
Magdalena refused.
Too many memories of people evaluating who deserved what.
They married beneath cottonwood trees near the creek.
She wore deep red.
Long skirt.