But love without respect had become possession.
Love without honesty had become theft.
And love used as justification for cruelty had stopped being love long ago.
Lena looked at him.
“You taught me something important, Father.”
Hope briefly appeared in his eyes.
“What?”
She wiped the tears from her face.
“That someone can love you and still have no right to control you.”
Then she walked away.
Six weeks later, Lena Margaret Hail turned twenty-seven.
The territorial court recognized her ownership of the Blackwater estate.
Harold Hail was charged with fraud, unlawful conversion of trust funds, and falsification of financial records.
Beatrice filed for separation.
Eliza did something nobody expected.
She sold nearly every expensive dress she owned and used the money to open a small school beside the Hail ranch.
When Lena asked why, Eliza shrugged.
“I’m apparently terrible at being ornamental.”
“You had years of practice.”
“Exactly. And I hated every minute of it.”
For the first time in their lives, the sisters laughed together.
As for Dawson—
he kept his word.
He resigned as trustee.
He moved out of the main house.
And he prepared to leave Blackwater entirely.
Lena found him one morning loading saddlebags onto his horse.
“Where are you going?”
He turned.
“Wyoming, perhaps.”
“Why?”
“I received an offer managing a cattle operation.”
Lena folded her arms.
“You already manage a cattle operation.”
“Not anymore.”
“Oh.”
He studied her.
“I meant what I said.”
“So did I.”
“I won’t use marriage to hold onto this place.”
“I know.”
He tightened the saddle strap.
“And I won’t stay here waiting for you to feel obligated to me.”
“I know.”
Dawson sighed.
“Is there some particular reason you’ve ridden out here before breakfast just to agree with everything I say?”
“Yes.”
Lena handed him a folded paper.
He frowned.
“What’s this?”
“A contract.”
He unfolded it.
His eyebrows rose.
“General ranch manager?”
“Temporary position.”
“Temporary?”
“Six months.”
“And after that?”
“I’ll decide whether you’re competent.”
Dawson stared at her.
“You are the most irritating woman I have ever met.”
“So you accept?”
He pretended to consider.
“What’s the salary?”
She named it.
His eyebrows rose again.
“That’s generous.”
“I can afford it.”
A slow grin crossed his face.
“You certainly can.”
Lena turned her horse.
“Report tomorrow at five.”
“Five?”
“You wanted to marry a ranch woman.”
“I haven’t married anyone.”
She looked back.
“Then perhaps you should improve your chances.”
Dawson stood motionless.
Lena rode away smiling.
He lasted four months before proposing again.
This time there was no parlor.
No audience.
No inheritance documents.
No beautiful sister waiting nearby.
They were standing knee-deep in mud beside a stubborn cow during a thunderstorm.
Lena’s dress was ruined.
Dawson had blood on his sleeve from helping deliver a calf.
Rain poured down both their faces.
“Lena!”
“What?”
“Marry me!”
She stared at him.
“This is your proposal?”
“It seemed romantic ten seconds ago!”
Lightning cracked across the sky.
Lena burst out laughing.
Dawson stared.
Not because the answer frightened him.
Because he had never heard Lena laugh like that.
