Supply mistakes.
A broken oven.
Three servers quit.
Mr. Lowell panicked over expenses.
Lena did not.
She had fed eighty ranch hands through a mountain flour shortage.
Denver diners did not frighten her.
Her bread became famous first.
Travelers bought loaves to take onto trains.
Then pies.
Then beef stew.
By summer, people waited outside.
Mr. Lowell kept his promise.
The sign changed.
LOWELL & HARTWELL DINING ROOM
Lena stood beneath it for ten minutes.
Cried.
Then went back to work.
Nathaniel obeyed the two-month agreement.
Exactly.
On the first day of the third month, he entered during breakfast wearing the wolfskin coat despite warm weather.
Lena stared.
“It's June.”
“I know.”
“You look insane.”
“People recognize me.”
“Take it off.”
He did.
Underneath he wore a clean dark shirt.
Lena almost forgot how to speak.
Nathaniel sat.
She approached.
“What would you like?”
“Bread.”
“Salt?”
“Yes.”
She smiled.
He ate.
Then:
“You happy?”
Lena considered.
“Yes.”
His face softened.
“Good.”
This time the word did not annoy her.
She sat across from him.
“You?”
“No.”
Her smile disappeared.
Nathaniel continued.
“Ranch food is terrible.”
She laughed.
“Ben?”
“He tries.”
“Poorly?”
“Heroically.”
Lena touched his hand.
“I miss you.”
His fingers closed around hers.
“Come back.”
She looked at the restaurant.
Nathaniel immediately added:
“Not to quit.”
She turned.
“What?”
“Come back sometimes.”
“I can come here sometimes.”
“You can have both.”
Lena stared.
Nathaniel continued.
“The railroad reaches within twelve miles now.”
“Winter harder.”
“Summer easy.”
“You don't need to choose the ranch because of me.”
He smiled.
“And I don't need you to abandon Denver for me.”
Lena’s eyes filled.
“You've thought about this.”
“For two months.”
“What do you want?”
Nathaniel looked directly at her.
“A life where you don't have to become smaller to fit inside mine.”
She stopped breathing.
No one had ever offered her language like that.
He continued.
“I can come to Denver.”
“You can go to Black Ridge.”
“If one day you want marriage, we discuss it.”
“If you don't, we don't.”
Lena laughed through tears.
“You make romance sound like freight scheduling.”
“I’m a rancher.”
“Terrible.”
“Still interested?”
She leaned across the table.
“Yes.”
Their courtship lasted another year.
Lena built the restaurant.
Nathaniel expanded the ranch.
She spent some weeks at Black Ridge.
He spent days in Denver looking spectacularly uncomfortable around upholstered furniture.
People talked.
They always would.