“Come see the ranch.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“No.”
He replaced his hat.
“But it’s all I can give you right now.”
Two hours later, with warm stew inside Clara’s stomach and Mary’s pride bruised but surviving, they climbed into Ethan Cole’s wagon.
Mary had told herself she was only inspecting the ranch.
Nothing more.
She was not agreeing to marriage.
She repeated that silently with every turn of the wheels.
The town disappeared behind them as the prairie opened beneath a sky stained gold and crimson. Dry grass rolled toward distant hills. Cottonwoods marked a narrow river. Cattle grazed like dark stones scattered across the landscape.
Clara sat between them, fascinated by everything.
“Is that your cow?”
“One of them,” Ethan said.
“That one too?”
“Yes.”
“And that one?”
“Yes.”
Clara frowned thoughtfully.
“You have too many cows.”
For the first time, Mary heard Ethan laugh.
It was quiet and rusty, as though the sound had not been used recently.
“I’ll speak to them about it.”
Clara giggled.
Mary looked away before Ethan could see her smile.
After several miles she asked, “How large is your ranch?”
“About four thousand acres.”
Her head snapped toward him.
“Four thousand?”
“Give or take.”
“You made it sound as though you needed someone to scrub a small kitchen.”
“I do need someone to scrub a kitchen.”
“You own four thousand acres.”
“The kitchen doesn’t care.”
Mary almost laughed again.
Instead she studied him.
His hands were scarred. His coat had been repaired twice at the elbow. Whatever money he possessed, he did not wear it.
“Why haven’t you hired a housekeeper?”
“Had two.”
“What happened?”
“One married my foreman. The other threw a frying pan at me.”
Clara gasped delightedly.
“Did it hit you?”
“No.”
“Too bad.”
Mary covered her mouth.
Ethan stared forward with profound seriousness.
“You’re raising a dangerous child, Mrs. Whitfield.”
For several minutes, things almost felt normal.
Then Mary asked the question she had been carrying since town.
“Why us, Ethan?”
The laughter disappeared.
His grip tightened on the reins.
“Why not you?”
“That is another non-answer.”
He did not respond.
“You looked at Clara strangely when you first saw her.”
His eyes shifted toward Mary.
“I was surprised.”
“By what?”
Silence.
“Ethan.”
The wagon rolled onward.
Finally he said, “She reminds me of someone.”
Mary’s chest tightened.
“Who?”
His answer was nearly lost beneath the wheels.
“Someone I knew a long time ago.”
Before Mary could ask another question, Clara pointed ahead.
“Look!”
The Double C Ranch stood beyond a long split-rail fence, nestled against cottonwoods beside a creek.
Mary had imagined a rough cabin.
Instead she found a broad two-story ranch house with a deep porch, stone chimney, red barn, bunkhouse and several smaller buildings glowing beneath the evening light.
Smoke curled from the chimney.
Horses moved in a nearby corral.
And on the porch stood a thin girl with dark braids.
The moment she saw Ethan, she ran.
“Papa!”
Ethan stepped from the wagon in time for Sarah to throw herself against him.
He lifted her effortlessly.
The transformation was startling.
