Lena stopped organizing her life around that fact.
The following spring, Nathaniel proposed.
Not dramatically.
He arrived in the restaurant kitchen at five one morning.
Lena was kneading bread.
He placed something on the flour-covered table.
A gold coin.
Twenty dollars.
The same denomination from the bake sale.
Lena stared.
“What is this?”
“First loaf.”
“You paid for it.”
“I know.”
He placed a ring beside it.
Simple gold.
No enormous diamond.
No theatrical expense.
Lena’s breath caught.
Nathaniel said:
“You told me once a dangerous word was negotiable.”
“Yes.”
“Marriage isn't.”
She stared.
“I am offering one thing.”
He swallowed.
“Me.”
“No ownership.”
“No debt.”
“No contract that makes leaving impossible.”
“Just…”
He looked unusually frightened.
“A place beside me if you want it.”
Lena touched the ring.
“What about Denver?”
“Still yours.”
“Black Ridge?”
“Still mine.”
“The kitchen?”
“Yours whenever you're there.”
“Your bread?”
He smiled.
“Still needs salt.”
She laughed.
Then cried.
Then slapped flour across his shirt.
“Yes.”
Nathaniel froze.
“What?”
“Yes.”
He grabbed her.
Lena laughed as he lifted her slightly from the floor.
“Nathaniel!”
“You said yes.”
“Put me down!”
“Never.”
“That sounds like ownership.”
He immediately lowered her.
Lena stared.
Then burst out laughing.
Nathaniel realized the joke.
“You're evil.”
“Yes.”
He kissed her.
They married at Black Ridge in September.
Not in Cedar Hollow society hall.
Not Denver.
The ranch dining room.
The same place eighty men had once eaten her first supper.
Ben stood as witness.
Martha cried.
Amos claimed he did not.
Everyone knew he did.
Caroline Dunley attended.
She had changed little.
Except her behavior toward Lena had become strangely polite after the restaurant became successful.
At the reception, Caroline approached.
“I always knew your bread was unusual.”
Lena stared.
Then smiled.
“That isn't how I remember it.”
Caroline’s face colored.
Nathaniel appeared beside Lena.
Caroline immediately excused herself.
Lena looked at him.
“You scared her.”
“I said nothing.”
“You are large.”
“Not my fault.”
Lena laughed.
Marriage did not require Lena to leave Denver.
For several years, they divided time.
Eventually the railway improved travel.
The restaurant expanded.
A second opened near Cheyenne.
Black Ridge began supplying beef, butter, grain, and potatoes.
Nathaniel joked that Lena had turned his ranch into a restaurant warehouse.
She corrected him.
“A profitable restaurant warehouse.”
He stopped complaining.
The old Black Ridge kitchen remained active.
Lena trained cooks.
Real cooks.