“You were thinking that?”
“Not in those words.”
“What words?”
Wyatt leaned closer.
“Probably something more intelligent.”
“Unlikely.”
He smiled.
Avalene reached across the table.
He took her hand.
“You know what I thought?”
Wyatt asked.
“What?”
“That you might leave.”
Her smile faded.
“Why?”
“Because everyone did.”
His mother.
His father.
Not by choice.
Still gone.
Avalene understood.
“I thought you would realize the ranch was too hard.”
She looked at him.
“And I thought you'd realize I wasn't enough.”
Wyatt’s thumb moved across her hand.
“Two frightened fools.”
Avalene smiled.
“Apparently.”
He stood.
Walked around the table.
Avalene looked up.
“What?”
Wyatt held out his hand.
“Dance.”
She stared.
“There’s no music.”
“I know.”
“You don't dance.”
“Also true.”
“Then why?”
He looked at her.
“Because a year ago I married you without one.”
Avalene’s eyes filled.
She took his hand.
Wyatt pulled her gently up.
Her soft body settled against him.
He placed one hand around her waist.
Her hand rested on his shoulder.
They moved slowly across the dining-room floor.
Badly.
Avalene laughed.
“You are stepping on me.”
“I’m learning.”
“You own six thousand acres and can't move three feet without causing injury.”
“Ranching skill doesn't transfer.”
She laughed again.
Wyatt looked at her.
“Happy anniversary.”
She stopped.
“You remembered?”
“Of course.”
Her expression became suspicious.
“You remembered without Higgins?”
Wyatt sighed.
“Higgins reminded me last week.”
“I knew it.”
“But I already knew.”
“Convenient.”
Wyatt kissed her.
The kitchen door opened.
Halfpint entered.
“Mrs. Calder, do we have any…”
He froze.
Wyatt slowly looked over.
Halfpint backed away.
“I have seen nothing.”
He disappeared.
Avalene burst out laughing against Wyatt’s chest.
The story spread anyway.
Not details.
Just that the boss danced with his wife in the dining room.
Higgins refused to believe it.
Dobs insisted he had witnesses.
Wyatt threatened everyone.
Avalene baked pie.
The ranch continued.
Years passed.
Halfpint eventually stopped being Halfpint.
He grew six inches and married a local girl.
Avalene cooked their wedding supper.
Dobs bought his own small place.
Cully became foreman after Higgins retired.
Higgins did not actually retire.
He simply stopped accepting wages while continuing to tell everyone what they were doing wrong.
The ranch house grew.
Wyatt added a room.
Then another.
Avalene filled them.
First with visitors.
Later with children.
Their first daughter inherited Avalene’s brown eyes.
Their son inherited Wyatt’s stubbornness.
Their second daughter inherited everyone’s appetite.
The kitchen became louder.
Meals became larger.
Sunday tables sometimes held forty people.
And despite everything else Avalene accomplished, Bell Haven never stopped talking about her cooking.
People asked for recipes.
She rarely gave exact measurements.
“How much flour?”
“Enough.”
“How much salt?”
“Until it tastes right.”