Daniel shrugged.
But curiosity flashed in his eyes.
"Maybe."
Thomas cleared his throat.
"Boys, go get dressed. Miss Hayes and I need to finish talking."
Samuel groaned but obeyed.
Daniel lingered longer, looking between Eleanor and his father with an expression far too knowing for a child his age.
Once they were alone, Thomas refilled his coffee.
"They like you."
"Samuel does. Daniel is reserving judgment."
"Daniel is protecting himself."
Thomas stared into his cup.
"He's old enough to remember his mother. Old enough to know what it means to lose somebody."
His voice became quieter.
"He's been the man of the house in his own mind since she died. It won't be easy for him to let somebody else in."
Eleanor felt a pang of sympathy for the serious boy.
"And if I stay? If we go through with the arrangement? What happens if it doesn't work?"
She searched for the words.
"If the boys can't accept me, or if you and I discover we can't manage together?"
Thomas considered the question.
"I suppose we'd figure that out if it happened."
He looked at her.
"But I'm not a man who gives up easily, and I don't think you are either, or you wouldn't have survived this long on your own."
Not exactly comforting.
But honest.
Eleanor preferred that to pretty reassurance that might prove false.
"The town will talk," she said. "A marriage this sudden, under these circumstances. People will assume things."
"People always assume things."
Thomas shrugged.
"Question is whether you care what they think."
Eleanor had spent her whole life caring.
That was what proper women were expected to do.
But proper women weren't usually penniless and homeless with winter closing in.
"I'd want to continue teaching."
The condition escaped suddenly.
"The boys, certainly, but others too, if they wanted lessons. I know the school is closed, but there must be children who could benefit."
Thomas nodded immediately.
"House is big enough. We could set up a proper schoolroom upstairs."
His casual acceptance surprised her.
Many men would have balked at the idea of their wives working, even if the work was teaching children.
"You wouldn't mind children coming and going?"
"Might be good for Daniel and Samuel. Give them children their own age around."
Thomas put down his cup.
"Anything else you need to know?"
Eleanor felt like she was standing at the edge of a cliff.
Every practical instinct told her to accept.
She had no other home.
No prospects.
No money.
Winter stretching before her like a death sentence.
But marriage, even marriage in name only, wasn't something to enter lightly.
"If I agreed," she began slowly, "how soon would you want to..."
She couldn't quite finish.
"As soon as the preacher can get here. Roads should clear enough in a few days."
So quickly.
Her whole life rearranged in one week.
It felt impossible.
Yet she was seriously considering it.
"Miss Hayes?"
Samuel's voice floated from the staircase.
"Can you help me with my buttons?"
Eleanor looked toward the sound.
Then at Thomas.
"May I?"
He nodded.
She went upstairs.
Samuel talked happily while Eleanor worked, telling her about favorite games and asking whether she knew songs.