“He must protect the property without attempting to possess it.”
Harlan went silent.
“He must refuse any personal payment from the estate.”
Harlan stared at the floor.
“And if Josephine was ever placed under his authority, he must voluntarily give her the opportunity to leave.”
My throat tightened.
Mother’s final words returned to me.
Trust the man who gives you the freedom to walk away from him.
She hadn’t been speaking poetically.
She had created a test.
One that lasted twelve years.
One Harlan never knew he was taking.
Mr.
Whitcomb closed the ledger.
“Mr.
Creek, by giving Miss Hale legal and physical freedom after Gideon attempted to trade her to you, you satisfied the final condition.”
Harlan stared at me.
“So what happens now?”
The banker smiled.
“Your trusteeship ends.”
He looked at me.
“Everything passes completely to Miss Hale.”
Harlan nodded once.
“Good.”
Just that.
Good.
No disappointment.
No hesitation.
No calculation.
He rose.
“I’ll collect my things from the cabin.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“It’s yours.”
“You’re leaving?”
“Your mother’s instructions said you were supposed to have freedom.”
He walked toward the door.
“Harlan.”
He stopped.
I crossed the room.
“You told me the marriage wasn’t legal.”
“It isn’t.”
“You told me the cabin belongs to me.”
“It does.”
“The horses too?”
“Yes.”
“The valley?”
“Yes.”
“The north spring?”
“Yes.”
“And apparently enough money to buy half of Colorado?”
Mr.
Whitcomb cleared his throat.
“Not quite half.”
I ignored him.
Harlan’s mouth twitched.
Almost a smile.
I stepped closer.
“Then there’s only one thing in that valley I apparently don’t own.”
His expression changed.
“Harlan Creek.”
His almost-smile disappeared.
“Josephine—”
“No.”
For once, I enjoyed saying it.
“You have been deciding what’s best for me for three weeks without once asking what I want.”
His face fell.
“You’re right.”
“So ask.”
He was silent.
The giant mountain man who frightened grown men suddenly looked terrified.
“Ask what?”
I took his hand.
“The obvious question.”
Mr.
Whitcomb became extremely interested in reorganizing his papers.
Harlan swallowed.
“Josephine Hale…”
“Yes?”
“Would you…”
His voice failed.
I had never seen Harlan Creek unable to speak.
I smiled.
“Would I what?”
He gave me a look that promised revenge for making him suffer.
Then he lowered himself onto one knee.
This time there was no father standing behind me.
No debt.
No horses.
No fake preacher.
No one telling me what my life was worth.
Harlan looked up.
“Josephine, I have nothing to offer you that you don’t already own.”
“That isn’t true.”
“I have a rifle, three traps, two shirts, and apparently not even my own cabin.”
I laughed.
His expression softened.
“But if you want me, I’ll spend whatever years I have making sure you never regret choosing me.”
Tears filled my eyes.
He took a breath.
“
Will you marry me?
For real this time?
”
I thought about my mother.
About the corset.
The yellow dress.
The blue dress.
The hidden pocket.
The ruined cabin door.
Twenty dollars.
Two horses.
And a man who had been given every opportunity to control me yet had chosen, again and again, to step backward and let me decide.
