“Be careful what you marry into, Sanders. Some debts are inherited.”

He climbed into his carriage and left.

Jared watched until the dust vanished.

Then he turned.

“What did that mean?”

“Nothing.”

“It didn’t sound like nothing.”

Martha walked toward the house.

Jared caught her arm.

She froze.

He released her immediately.

“I’m sorry.”

Martha stared at the place his hand had touched.

Then at him.

“You promised not to interfere with the kitchen or smokehouse.”

“This isn’t about food.”

“No.”

“Then tell me.”

Her eyes glistened for one terrible moment.

But her voice remained steady.

“Not yet.”

Jared stepped back.

He had married a stranger.

He had known that from the beginning.

But suddenly he wondered whether Martha had known far more about him than he had ever known about her.

By the end of October, the twenty-two starving ranch hands had become twenty-two paid workers.

Not fully paid.

But each man received five dollars against back wages.

Jared expected half of them to take the money and leave.

Not one did.

Cal Hensley slapped the coins into his palm.

“Where would I go? Ain’t nobody else feeding me this good.”

Thaddius nodded toward Martha.

“Besides, General Higgins scares me.”

Martha heard him.

“Good.”

The men laughed.

Even Jared.

Something else changed.

The house no longer felt dead.

Martha sang while baking.

She denied it when Jared mentioned it.

Billy began eating breakfast in the kitchen because Martha reminded him of his late mother.

Men repaired porch boards without being asked.

Someone planted chrysanthemums beside the steps.

At night Jared and Martha sat across from each other with ledgers between them.

Their arrangement was supposed to be practical.

It stopped feeling practical.

One cold evening, Martha found Jared asleep over the account books.

She draped a blanket over his shoulders.

His eyes opened.

“Caught you.”

She stepped back.

“Caught me doing what?”

“Caring whether I freeze.”

“You are expensive to replace.”

He smiled.

“So romantic.”

Martha’s mouth twitched.

Jared sat up.

“You know, I should probably apologize.”

“For ordering a wife?”

“For writing that letter like I was purchasing a stove.”

“A stove would have complained less.”

“I doubt that.”

Silence softened around them.

The lamp flame moved.

“Martha.”

“Yes?”

“Why did you answer me?”

She looked down.

“There were hundreds of advertisements.”

“Yes.”

“Teachers. Storekeepers. Farmers. Men with money.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“And you chose the one who openly admitted he was broke and needed someone to cook for twenty-two starving cowboys.”

She smiled faintly.

“You were honest.”

“That can’t be the only reason.”

“No.”

“Then what was?”

Her smile vanished.

For a moment he thought she would tell him.

Instead she whispered, “You needed me.”

No one had ever said those words to Jared as though being needed could be enough.

He reached across the table.

His fingertips touched hers.

Martha did not pull away.

Their marriage had been signed in Oak Haven three days after her arrival before a sleepy justice of the peace.

No flowers.

No vows beyond what the law required.

No kiss.

Now Jared leaned toward her.

Martha’s breath caught.

Then someone hammered on the front door.

They sprang apart.

Billy rushed in.

“Boss.”

His face was white.

“Barn’s burning.”

Flames climbed thirty feet into the night.

Men formed a bucket line.

Jared ran toward the cattle pens.

“Get them out!”

Smoke tore at his lungs.

Thaddius and Cal opened the west gate.

Terrified cattle surged across the yard.

Then Jared heard Martha scream.

“THE SMOKEHOUSE!”

A second orange glow flickered behind it.

Someone had stacked burning straw against the timber wall.

This was no accident.

Martha seized a wet blanket and ran straight toward the flames.

“Martha!”

Jared caught her around the waist.