“But you knew about every bruise.”
His face fell.
“You knew about the cellar.”
Silence.
“You knew about Clara.”
“Mae—”
“You knew what that iron did.”
He looked away.
Mae nodded.
“That is enough.”
Owen’s voice broke.
“I loved you.”
Mae almost smiled.
“No.”
She stepped closer.
“You loved hearing me ask permission.”
He flinched.
“You loved watching me become smaller.”
She looked toward the open prairie.
“Love does not require someone to disappear so you can feel large.”
The deputy pushed Owen toward the wagon.
He never saw Mae again.
The trials lasted almost eight months.
Sheriff Pike lost his badge before sunset on the first day.
He later received twelve years for conspiracy and falsifying records.
Doctor Beckett kept his freedom after testifying, but Mercy Bend never again allowed him to pretend cowardice was innocence.
Reverend Hale resigned.
Then spent years helping recover property stolen from the women named in the ledgers.
Cyrus Drayton died in prison three winters later.
Owen was sentenced to twenty-eight years.
The Drayton ranch was broken apart to repay victims.
And Larkin Basin returned to Mae.
At first she could not bear to live there.
Too many memories.
Too many shadows.
So she stayed with Eliza.
Caleb visited sometimes.
At first, he found reasons.
A broken hinge.
A sack of flour.
News from Clara.
Then he stopped inventing reasons.
He simply came.
Mae liked that better.
One autumn evening, nearly a year after the day he found her beside the boulder, they sat on Eliza’s porch watching the sun disappear behind purple mountains.
Caleb held his hat between his hands.
Mae glanced at him.
“You’re nervous.”
“No.”
“You’ve twisted that hat into a different shape.”
He looked down.
The brim was indeed suffering.
Mae laughed.
The sound still surprised her sometimes.
Caleb smiled.
“I wanted to ask you something.”
Her laughter faded.
He saw the old fear appear.
Not much.
Just a shadow.
So he did not reach for her.
“I’m not asking you to marry me.”
Mae blinked.
Caleb continued.
“Not tonight.”
She studied him.
“What are you asking?”
“Whether I can court you.”
Her lips parted.
“Properly.”
“What does properly mean?”
“I’m hoping you’ll explain that because I have no idea.”
She smiled.
He continued.
“No ownership. No expectations.”
His voice softened.
“And if you say no, I’ll still fix Eliza’s gate because that thing is a disgrace.”
From inside the house Eliza shouted, “I CAN HEAR YOU.”
Mae laughed again.
Then she looked at Caleb.
“You can court me.”
His face brightened.
“But slowly.”
“As slowly as you want.”
“And you don’t get to make decisions for me.”
“No.”
“You don’t get to tell me what to wear.”
“I’m barely qualified to dress myself.”
“No telling me who I may visit.”
“No.”
“No locked doors.”
His smile disappeared.
“Never.”
Mae looked at him for a long time.
Then she reached across the porch.
She took his hand.
Caleb did not close his fingers around hers until she closed hers first.
That mattered.
More than he would ever know.
