Elias looked at the wagon.
Then at Miriam.
His expression did not change.
Miriam stepped down.
The cold wind caught her coat.
She held her hat in place.
“Mr. Ward?”
“Elias.”
She nodded.
“Miriam Bennett.”
“I know.”
She smiled politely.
“You look disappointed.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“I didn't say that.”
“You didn't need to.”
For the first time, Elias looked uncertain.
His mother had described Miriam as quiet.
Gentle.
Well-mannered.
Easily pleased.
The woman standing before him did not seem particularly gentle.
She seemed alert.
She had already inspected the ranch before saying hello.
Elias glanced at Caleb.
Caleb was trying not to smile.
“Welcome to Ward Ranch,” Elias said.
“Thank you.”
He reached for her trunk.
She stopped him.
“I can carry it.”
“It isn't light.”
“I know.”
She lifted it.
Elias stared.
Caleb laughed.
“Well,” he said, “this should be interesting.”
Miriam looked at him.
“And you must be Caleb.”
“That obvious?”
“Your brother mentioned you.”
Elias looked surprised.
“I did?”
“In your second letter.”
Caleb grinned.
“What did he say?”
“That you were irresponsible.”
Caleb laughed loudly.
Elias looked at Miriam.
“I wrote that?”
“More politely.”
Caleb clapped his hands.
“I like her already.”
Elias sighed.
“Miriam, perhaps we should talk.”
“About the marriage?”
“Yes.”
She nodded.
“All right.”
They entered the house.
Miriam noticed immediately that it was clean but unfinished.
A large kitchen.
A dining room.
A sitting room.
Three bedrooms.
The furniture was old.
The curtains were faded.
There was enough food in the pantry for perhaps two weeks.
She said nothing.
Elias poured coffee.
“I want to be honest.”
“So do I.”
He sat opposite her.
“My mother arranged this.”
“I know.”
“I don't expect you to pretend otherwise.”
“Good.”
“I need a wife.”
Miriam tilted her head.
“For what?”
He hesitated.
“A household.”
“That isn't the same thing.”
“No.”
“What do you actually need?”
Elias looked toward the window.
“The ranch is struggling.”
“I noticed.”
His eyes returned to her.
“You noticed?”
“The cattle are thin. The north pasture is failing. The river is low. The roof needs repair. Your fence line is poorly maintained.”
Elias stared.
“You've been here five minutes.”
“I only needed three.”
Caleb, standing in the doorway, began laughing.
Elias looked annoyed.
Miriam continued.
“I don't mean to insult you.”
“You're not.”
“You simply need someone who understands what the ranch needs.”
“I know what it needs.”
“What?”
“Money.”
Miriam shook her head.
“No.”
He frowned.
“No?”
“Water.”
Silence.
Caleb stopped laughing.
Elias stared at her.
“What makes you say that?”
“Because your cattle are being moved into the south pasture.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Better grass.”
“Then why are they still thin?”
Elias did not answer.
Miriam looked at the window.
“The river.”
“It is low.”
“Not just low.”
She stood.
“It's changing.”
Elias followed her gaze.
“What do you mean?”
“The river is being diverted somewhere upstream.”
Caleb frowned.
“That's impossible.”
“Is it?”
She pointed.
“Look at the waterline.”
They went outside.
Miriam walked toward the river.
She crouched near the bank.
The mud was cracked.
But there were marks.
Fresh ones.
Wooden drag marks.
Something heavy had been pulled through recently.
Elias knelt.
He touched the soil.
“Someone has been working here.”
Miriam nodded.
“Your problem isn't just drought.”
She looked toward the western ridge.
“Someone is taking your water.”