A smile held too long.
Someone saying:
“You’re strong for a woman.”
Or:
“You have such a pretty face.”
Which meant everything below the face was being graded separately.
Eleanor was large.
Heavy.
Broad-shouldered.
Full through the hips and middle.
Strong arms.
Strong legs.
A body that occupied space without apology, even though Eleanor herself had spent years apologizing for it.
Silver Hollow noticed.
Silver Hollow commented.
Silver Hollow always had.
The tavern door opened in the dining room.
Cold air rushed in.
A young serving girl appeared in the kitchen.
Nineteen.
Pretty.
Narrow waist.
Blond.
She had apparently heard enough.
“I might do it.”
Caleb looked at her.
“How old are you?”
“Nineteen.”
“No.”
Her smile collapsed.
“Why?”
“I need someone who understands contracts.”
“I can read.”
“Someone who can manage a household.”
“My mother taught me.”
“Someone who can survive three months isolated on a mountain in winter.”
She folded her arms.
“I’m not helpless.”
“I didn't say you were.”
“Then why not me?”
Caleb studied her for two seconds.
“Because you volunteered before asking whether the house has a second bed.”
The cook made a sound suspiciously close to laughter.
The girl reddened.
Caleb looked around.
His gaze moved.
Then stopped.
On Eleanor.
She waited for it to move again.
It did not.
“How old are you?”
Eleanor looked behind herself.
No one there.
“Twenty-seven.”
“Can you manage household accounts?”
“Yes.”
“Cook?”
The cook snorted.
Eleanor looked at him.
“I keep your stew from becoming shoe leather.”
The cook immediately returned to his onions.
Caleb’s eyes sharpened with what might have been amusement.
“Sew?”
“Yes.”
“Ride?”
“Badly.”
“That can be fixed.”
Eleanor dried her hands.
“Are you proposing marriage or hiring a ranch manager?”
“Both.”
A laugh moved through the kitchen.
Not cruel exactly.
Still, Eleanor felt it against her skin.
Caleb did not laugh.
He pushed the legal document across the table.
“You’ll do.”
Eleanor looked at it.
Then at him.
“I’ll decide that.”
Silence.
Something changed in Caleb’s face.
Interest.
Real interest.
Eleanor stepped closer.
“I want to read every page.”
“Good.”
“You expected women to sign without reading?”
“I expected somebody to.”
“That sounds like your mistake.”
Margaret smiled openly now.
Caleb pulled out a chair.
“Sit.”
Eleanor did.
The agreement was surprisingly straightforward.
A lawful civil marriage would be conducted before the county clerk.
Caleb required legal status to satisfy the will.
A private contract between the parties defined the arrangement.
Three months.
Separate finances.
Fifty dollars paid immediately.
Two hundred upon completion of the spring property review.
Eleanor could leave at any time with seven days’ notice, unless weather made travel dangerous.
Her safety, lodging, food, medical expenses, and transport were Caleb’s responsibility during the term.
No claim against each other’s personal property.
No expectation of children.
Then Eleanor reached the clause that made her stop.
No physical or marital intimacy shall be required, implied, demanded, coerced, or treated as compensation under this agreement.
She read it twice.
Then looked up.
“You wrote this?”
“With an attorney.”
“Why?”
His expression did not change.
“Because it matters.”