"And if the numbers aren't ready, you'll sell the wrong ones."
Elias stared at the woman across the table.
"You've been married to me for six weeks."
"I know."
"You've already memorized the cattle records."
"I had to."
"Why?"
Clara looked genuinely surprised.
"Because this is my home now."
The words struck him harder than they should have.
His home.
Her home.
He looked away.
"Go to bed."
She smiled faintly.
"Are you ordering your wife?"
"Yes."
"Then perhaps you should learn to order more politely."
He almost laughed.
Instead, he picked up the ledger.
"I'll finish it."
Clara stared.
"You don't know how."
"I'll learn."
She smiled.
"Good."
That was the first night they worked together.
It was also the first night Elias realized the marriage might become something neither of them had planned.
Winter came early.
Snow covered the ranch in January.
The cattle needed more feed, the roads became nearly impossible to travel, and the workers spent long days breaking ice from the water troughs.
Then the fever arrived.
It began with Daniel.
Clara found him shivering beside the stove.
By evening, he could barely stand.
Elias sent for the doctor.
The nearest physician arrived the next morning after riding through the snow for hours.
He examined Daniel and shook his head.
"Pneumonia."
Clara's face went pale.
"Will he survive?"
"If he gets rest, warmth, and medicine."
"And if he doesn't?"
The doctor hesitated.
Clara understood.
She sat beside her brother's bed for three nights.
Elias took over the ranch.
On the fourth night, he entered the bedroom and found Clara asleep with her head resting against the mattress.
He placed a blanket over her shoulders.
She woke.
"Daniel?"
"Sleeping."
"His fever?"
"Lower."
She closed her eyes.
"Thank God."
Elias sat beside her.
"You should sleep."
"I can't."
"You can."
She looked at him.
"You always speak as if everything can be fixed by giving an order."
"Most things can."
"Not people."
"No."
For a moment, they were quiet.
Then Clara whispered, "Thank you."
Elias looked at her.
"For what?"
"For taking care of him."
"He is family."
She smiled.
"You didn't have to say that."
"I meant it."
Her eyes softened.
Something changed between them that night.
Neither spoke about it.
But afterward, Elias began noticing things.
The way Clara laughed when Daniel teased her.
The way she tucked loose hair behind her ear while reading.
The way she stood in the doorway every morning, looking across the fields as if she were measuring the weather.
He began noticing her.
And that frightened him.
Because he had chosen her precisely because he believed he could keep emotion out of the marriage.
Spring brought rain.
Too much rain.
The creek rose.
The southern fields flooded.
Several sections of fencing disappeared beneath muddy water.
Elias rode out every morning to inspect the damage.
Clara followed him one day.
"You shouldn't be here," he told her.
"I live here."
"You could fall."
"So could you."
"That's different."
"Why?"
"Because I'm used to it."
She smiled.
"Then teach me."
He looked at her.
"Teach you what?"
"How to survive here."
He stared for a moment.
Then he handed her a pair of gloves.
"Come on."
They rode together.
For the first time, Elias showed Clara the farthest corners of the ranch.
He showed her the spring that fed the northern pasture.
The old cottonwood where his mother had once hung laundry.
The ridge where his father used to watch storms.
And the valley where the cattle grazed in summer.
Clara listened.
She asked questions.
Not silly ones.
Important ones.