"I thought you might prefer it to downstairs. More privacy."
Eleanor stepped inside.
Her fingers brushed the edge of the writing desk.
She could almost imagine the woman who once sat there writing letters or managing household accounts.
It felt like trespassing.
"I don't want to disturb anything."
"The room needs to be lived in."
Thomas looked around.
"Margaret's been gone 2 years. Time it served a purpose again."
He left Eleanor alone.
For several minutes, she simply stood at the room's center, trying to absorb reality.
This space belonged to her now.
A sanctuary inside a home filled with strangers who had legally become family.
She unpacked her few belongings.
Her dresses went into the wardrobe beside clothing that had belonged to another woman.
Margaret Caldwell had favored fine fabrics and elegant cuts.
Silk dresses.
Wool coats.
The wardrobe of a woman who had lived with comfort.
Eleanor's simple cotton and wool garments looked shabby beside them.
From the bedroom window, she could see the barn and corral.
Several horses moved quietly below.
Beyond them, land stretched toward distant mountains.
Vast.
Beautiful.
Unforgiving.
The view reminded Eleanor just how isolated this place was.
How dependent people here became on one another.
A soft knock came at the door.
"Come in."
Samuel's head appeared.
"Papa says supper's ready. He made beans and bacon."
Eleanor smiled.
"That sounds wonderful. I'll be right down."
She followed him downstairs.
The kitchen looked transformed from the stark room she remembered.
Mrs. Murphy, she assumed, had set the table using proper dishes and found a little vase for late-blooming wildflowers.
Such a small thing.
Yet it changed the entire room.
Thomas stood at the stove serving their simple meal with movements that revealed years of practice.
His jacket was gone.
Sleeves rolled to his forearms.
For the first time, Eleanor noticed how domestic he could look.
Nothing like the imposing rancher she had first encountered in the storm.
"Smells good," she said.
Daniel was already at the table, picking halfheartedly at his food.
Samuel chattered enough for everyone, delighted by the novelty of having a woman at supper again.
"Mrs. Murphy said you might teach our letters properly now," he announced through a mouthful of beans. "She says real teachers know all sorts of things."
"I know quite a few things."
Eleanor smiled.
"Would you like to start tomorrow?"
"Can we?"
Samuel immediately turned toward Thomas.
His father nodded.
"If your new mama thinks you're ready."
The word mama caught slightly in Thomas's throat.
Eleanor heard it.
This arrangement was as strange for him as it was for her.
Perhaps stranger.
Eleanor was stepping into a new role.
Thomas was watching his children attach themselves to a replacement for a woman who could never actually be replaced.
"I think we could begin with simple words," Eleanor said. "Things you see every day. Horse. Barn. Sky."
"What about my name?"
"Especially your name."
Daniel finally looked up.
"I already know some letters."
"Do you?"