Then let me prove it to you. He took her hand gently and she did not pull away. Give us more time. Keep working at the laundry if it makes you happy. keep your independence.
All I am asking is that you let me love you while you do it. " Willa looked down at their joined hands, his large and calloused, her smaller and ink stained from her bookkeeping work. They were from completely different worlds, and yet somehow impossibly they fit together. " Yes, " she said. " Yes, I will give us more time. "
He kissed her, then softly and carefully, as if she were something precious that might break. It was nothing like the aggressive, possessive kisses Charles Peton had tried to steal from her before she left Boston. This was gentle and asking, a question rather than a demand, and when she kissed him back, she felt something settle into place in her heart. They stood on the porch of the boarding house, wrapped in each other's arms as the December stars came out above them, and Willa felt for the first time since leaving Boston that she was exactly where she was supposed to be. Christmas came, and with it a cold snap that was unusual for the Nevada high desert.
Daniel gave Willa a beautiful leatherbound journal with her initials embossed on the cover. for your thoughts and dreams. He said, you are always talking about wanting to write about your experiences out west. I thought you might like a proper place to keep those stories. She gave him a warm wool scarf she had knitted in secret over the past few weeks, working on it in her room at night after dinner.
For those cold mornings when you are out checking on your cattle, she said, "I do not want you catching a chill. " They spent Christmas day at the ranch, and Willa helped Daniel prepare a turkey dinner, laughing at her own inadequate cooking skills. She had never learned to cook properly in Boston, where her family had servants to handle such tasks. Daniel was patient and amused by her disasters, and together they managed to produce a meal that was at least edible. When I was planning this courtship, I did not think about the practical details, he admitted over dessert, a pie that Willa had actually managed to make successfully.
If we were to marry, would you want to learn to cook, or would you prefer to hire someone to help with the household tasks? The casual mention of marriage made Willa's heart skip, but she tried to answer seriously. I think I would like to learn at least the basics. I do not want to be completely dependent on hired help, but I also do not think I have much natural talent for domestic arts. That is fine by me.
I did not fall in love with you for your cooking skills. Daniel reached across the table and took her hand. Willa, I need to ask you something, and I want you to think about it carefully before you answer. She braced herself, sensing something important was coming. My ranch is doing well, better than I expected for this time of year.
I have managed to save a considerable amount, and I am planning to expand next spring, maybe buy some more breeding stock, hire a few hands to help with the work. It is going to be a busy time, and I would really like to have you by my side for it. " He paused, choosing his words carefully. I know we said we would take our time and I am not trying to rush you, but I have to ask. Do you see a future here with me?
Or are you still thinking about going back to Boston eventually? Willa looked around the cabin at the simple furniture Daniel had built, at the stone fireplace where a cheerful fire crackled, at the windows that looked out over the beautiful harsh landscape. She thought about her job at the laundry, about May's friendship and respect. She thought about the life she had left behind in Boston, the suffocating expectations and endless rules. " I do not want to go back to Boston, " she said slowly. "
I think I have known that for a while now, but I was afraid to admit it. My family is there, and I suppose I will always love them in a way, but that is not my home anymore, if it ever really was. And could this be your home? Daniel's voice was quiet, vulnerable. Could I be your home?
Willa stood up and walked around the table to where he sat. She cupped his face in her hands, looking into those gray eyes that had become so dear to her. Daniel Walker, I think you already are. He pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist, and she rested her head on his shoulder, feeling safe and wanted in a way she never had before. They sat like that for a long time, watching the fire burn down to embers, neither of them needing to speak.
In January, a letter arrived from Boston. Willa's mother had written demanding to know why her daughter had not returned as planned and insisting she come home immediately. The letter was full of worry and anger in equal measure with several pointed comments about reputations and proper behavior. Willa showed the letter to Daniel who read it with a furrowed brow. Are you going to tell them about us?
He asked. I have to, Willa said. I cannot keep hiding this. But I am not sure how to explain our situation in a way they will understand. She paced the floor of the boarding house parlor, agitated.
My mother will have hysterics when she learns I am being courted by a rancher. My father will probably disown me and my sisters will think I have lost my mind. Have you? Daniel asked gently. Lost your mind?
I mean. Willa stopped pacing and looked at him. Probably. By Boston standards, I am throwing away everything for a man I have known for two months. But Daniel, I do not care what Boston thinks anymore.
This is my life, my choice, and I am choosing you. I am choosing us. Then tell them that, he said. Write to them honestly. Tell them you have found something worth staying for and that you are happy.
If they love you, truly love you, they will come to accept it eventually. Willis spent hours crafting her response, trying to find the right words to explain her decision without causing too much hurt or worry. She told her parents about Daniel, about his ranch, about how he treated her with respect and kindness. She told them about her job at the laundry, about her growing love for the Nevada Territory despite its harshness. and she told them as gently as possible that she was not coming home because she had already found her home and it was not in Boston.
The reply, when it came several weeks later, was predictably upset. Her mother wrote of disappointment and scandal. Her father wrote a brief note about rash decisions and squandered opportunities. But there was also a letter from her youngest sister, Emily, who wrote that she thought it was terribly romantic and brave, and that she hoped Willa would be happy. And please write with more details about this mysterious cowboy.
Will cried a little when she read Emily's letter, grateful for at least one family member who seemed to understand. Daniel held her while she cried, not trying to fix it or make it better, just being there. Family is complicated, he said when her tears had subsided. Give them time. Sometimes people need space to adjust to changes they did not see coming.