The contract was fair.
Probably.
Caleb still brought it to Sara.
She read every line.
“You taught me this.”
He looked at Elena.
“No.”
Elena smiled.
“Yes.”
The railroad got its strip.
Caleb got enough money to retire.
He did not.
He simply complained about retirement while continuing to work less.
At seventy-eight, Caleb could no longer mount without help.
He hated that.
Elena held the stirrup once.
He glared.
“You enjoying this?”
“A little.”
“Marriage was a mistake.”
“Thirty-four years late.”
He smiled.
They rode slowly toward the ridge where the riders had once appeared.
The ranch looked different.
Larger barn.
New fencing.
Wind pump.
Telegraph line farther north.
No smoke.
No army.
Caleb stopped.
“You remember?”
“Yes.”
“Every one hundred eighty-three?”
“Most.”
“Show-off.”
Elena looked toward the horizon.
“I thought Joseph might shoot you.”
Caleb stared.
“You never told me that.”
“You were holding gun.”
“He had two hundred people.”
“One hundred eighty-three.”
“I stand corrected.”
She smiled.
Caleb continued:
“What stopped him?”
“I did.”
“That’s comforting.”
“He saw bandage.”
“And?”
“I said you helped.”
Caleb nodded.
“Was that enough?”
“No.”
“What else?”
Elena looked at him.
“I said you did not read papers.”
Caleb laughed softly.
“That?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Joseph believed men always take information if they can.”
Caleb thought.
“So respecting a saddlebag saved me.”
“Partly.”
“Frontier morality is strange.”
“People strange.”
They sat their horses in silence.
Then Caleb asked:
“Would you have stayed if the riders had not come?”
Elena considered.
“No.”
He looked offended.
“I would leave when strong.”
“Obviously.”
“You thought romance?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
Caleb smiled.
“Maybe.”
Elena laughed.
“Men make stories backward.”
“What does that mean?”
“You know ending, then pretend beginning promised it.”
Caleb stared.
That was annoyingly wise.
She continued:
“When I saw you, I did not see husband.”
“What did you see?”
“Man with nails in mouth.”
Caleb laughed.
“I forgot that.”
“I did not.”
“What did I see?”
“Dying Apache woman.”
“Yes.”
She looked toward the ranch.
“Neither knew rest.”
Caleb nodded.
That was the truth.
Meaning arrived later.
Choice first.
Meaning afterward.