“Yes.”
“Where?”
“The loft.”
He nodded.
No argument.
That helped.
They began speaking.
Slowly.
Painfully.
Mabel asked every question she had.
Gideon answered.
No half truths.
No protecting.
No romantic edits.
He admitted Hannah’s letter to him years earlier had described Mabel.
Not her appearance.
Her intelligence.
Her memory.
Her tendency to read books hidden beneath the dinner table because Jonah mocked educated women.
Hannah feared for her.
Gideon had known.
When Jonah offered marriage, Gideon realized it might move Mabel out of danger.
He also thought it could help expose the mine scheme.
Both were true.
“That is the part I hate,” Mabel said.
“I know.”
“You made a decision for me.”
“Yes.”
“Even if you thought it protected me.”
“Yes.”
She studied him.
“You’re not defending yourself.”
“I don’t have a defense.”
That mattered too.
Mabel continued.
“You should have told me on the wagon.”
“Yes.”
“At the cabin.”
“Yes.”
“Before you touched me.”
Gideon’s face tightened.
“Yes.”
Silence.
That answer cost him.
Good.
It should.
Mabel looked toward the mountains.
“Do you regret marrying me?”
“No.”
“Not even now?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Gideon’s voice softened.
“Because marrying you is the only selfish part I don’t regret.”
Mabel’s eyes filled despite herself.
She hated that he could still reach her.
“What does that mean?”
“It means getting you away from Jonah was right.”
He looked at her.
“Using marriage without telling you everything was wrong.”
Another breath.
“Falling in love with you wasn’t part of any plan.”
Mabel looked down.
“Love does not fix deceit.”
“No.”
“But?”
“No but.”
He returned to the saddle.
Mabel stared.
“You are infuriating.”
“I know.”
“I was expecting you to argue.”
“I’ve had nine nights in a barn to reconsider my technique.”
A laugh escaped her.
She covered it.
Too late.
Gideon looked up.
The faintest smile.
Mabel pointed at him.
“Do not look pleased.”
“I’m terrified.”
“Good.”
For the first time since the truth came out, the space between them felt survivable.
Mabel turned twenty-seven on a cold November morning.
She rode into Ridge Creek beside Gideon.
Not behind him.
Beside.
The county courthouse steps were crowded.
Everyone knew why.
Her inheritance hearing had become the largest local event since Jonah’s arrest.
Pearl Mason stood near the entrance.
So did the women who laughed at the wedding.
They looked at Mabel differently now.
Not kindly.
Carefully.
Power had changed.
Mabel disliked that.
She remembered what it felt like when Gideon defended her before she had power.
That difference mattered.
Pearl approached.
“Mabel.”
Mabel stopped.
Pearl swallowed.
“I wanted to say…”
“Do you?”
The woman blinked.
“What?”
“Do you want to apologize, or do you want me to make you feel better?”
Pearl reddened.
Mabel waited.
Finally Pearl said: