Eleanor’s voice broke.

“I survived him.”

She looked toward the house.

“And when he returned, I discovered something neither of us wanted to admit.”

“What?”

“Samuel came home.”

Her eyes returned to Caleb.

“But I already had.”

Eleanor expected anger.

Instead, Samuel laughed.

Not happily.

But knowingly.

They sat beside the creek where winter ice had finally broken.

“I wondered how long it would take you.”

Eleanor stared at him.

“You knew?”

Samuel tossed a pebble into the water.

“I’ve had four months to watch the two of you refuse to look at each other whenever I entered a room.”

Heat rose into Eleanor’s face.

“Samuel—”

“Do you remember our wedding?”

“Yes.”

“You were nineteen.”

“You were twenty-two.”

“We were idiots.”

She smiled despite herself.

“Completely.”

He looked toward the mountains.

“I loved you.”

“Loved?”

He met her gaze.

“I still do. Enough not to pretend nothing happened.”

Eleanor’s eyes filled.

Samuel continued.

“I left you with seven children and debts because I believed I could fix everything alone.”

“You were trying to save Nathaniel.”

“And I lost two years of their lives.”

“You nearly died.”

“I know.”

He rubbed his scar.

“When I came back, Thomas called Caleb when he had a problem with the horses.”

Eleanor said nothing.

“Edward crawled into Caleb’s bed during the thunderstorm.”

Her throat tightened.

“Sarah asks Caleb about school.”

Samuel smiled sadly.

“And Nathaniel trusts him more than he trusts me.”

“Samuel…”

“I am their father.”

“Yes.”

“But somewhere along the way, he became something too.”

A tear slipped down Eleanor’s cheek.

Samuel looked at her.

“I won’t make our children lose another person they love because my pride can’t survive it.”

“What are you saying?”

He removed his wedding ring.

Eleanor stared.

“The court declared me dead.”

“Samuel.”

“Legally, you became a widow.”

He placed the ring in her palm.

“Your marriage to Caleb might be more valid than anyone realizes.”

Her breath stopped.

Samuel stood.

“You get to choose now.”

That word.

Choose.

For years Eleanor’s life had been defined by things chosen for her.

Poverty.

Widowhood.

Hunger.

The auction.

Even survival.

She looked at the ring in her palm.

“What will you do?”

Samuel smiled.

“Marshal Crowe says Washington needs witnesses who know how Price’s network operated.”

“You hate Washington.”

“I hate Wyoming winters more.”

She laughed.

He kissed her forehead.

Then whispered, “Be happy, El.”

Three months later, the family gathered beneath a cottonwood tree beside the creek.

Not for an auction.

Not for survival.

For a wedding.

A real one.

Eleanor wore a simple blue dress.

Sarah placed wildflowers in her hair.

Margaret and Catherine argued over who carried the flowers.

Edward lost one shoe.

Thomas found it inside the chicken house.

James insisted that was impossible.

William claimed the chicken stole it.

Marshal Crowe served as witness.

Samuel stood beside Sarah.

And Nathaniel stood beside Caleb.

Caleb wore black wool instead of buckskin.

He looked deeply uncomfortable.

Eleanor loved him for it.

When she reached him, he whispered, “You can still change your mind.”

She almost laughed.

“Caleb Roar, if you say that again, I may shoot you.”