I clear my throat and set down my fork, pressing my napkin to my lips to buy a second of grace. “I’m set to return to Cheyenne in August.”
“A lovely time of year here,” Ada replies. “I’m glad you have Irene looking after you. Are you enjoying yourself?”
I offer a polite nod, glancing once at Marcel without meaning to. “It’s been...very nice.”
Irene sets her wine glass down with a small clink and smirks. “You don’t have to sugarcoat it, Clara.” She turns to Ada. “Poor girl’s been like a caged bird in that house. I love Isadora, but let’s just say her social calendar is more of an obligation than an amusement.”
Ada chuckles. “Well, you’re always welcome here. Do you ride?”
“I do,” I say, unable to stop the soft smile that comes with the memory. “It’s been a while, but I used to love it.”
“We’ll have to get you out on the trails sometime. Just have Irene let us know when you’d like to come back.”
Before I can think twice, the words tumble out—eager, impulsive. “Are you free tomorrow?”
Ada raises an eyebrow, a bit surprised. “Frank and I have a few meetings in town tomorrow?—”
“I can help.” Marcel cuts in smoothly, his voice low and warm.
I turn to look at him. His eyes meet mine, bright with anticipation and mischief. That same tug of familiarity that has haunted me since the Founder's Dance.
Ada smiles, a touch amused. “That’s very kind of you, Marcel. Clara, Marcel is like a son to us. A true gentleman. Would you feel comfortable with him as a guide?”
My skin warms, cheeks burning under the weight of so many gazes—especially his. I try to sound measured, unaffected. “If you trust him, I trust him, too.”
Marcel leans in slightly, just enough to make my pulse stutter. “If you can be here after two, I’d be honored to take you out.”
I manage a composed smile, though my breath catches ever so slightly. “That’s very gracious of you, Marcel. I’ll be here tomorrow afternoon.”
Dinner continues, and I struggle to fit food in my stomach with all of the butterflies filling its space. One by one, the hands finish, clearing their plates, heading back outside. Marcel matches my pace, eating slowly beside me, engaging in conversation. I’ve learned he’s been on the ranch since his parents passed, that he loves his life here, and he was sure tosay that he’s unattached. I try my best not to hang onto his every single word, but by the time dinner is over, I feel Irene’s inquisitive eyes on me when I speak with him.
The sun is setting when Irene hides a small yawn. “Oh, my, I’m sorry. I think all this delicious food and wine has made me tired. Clara, should we head back?”
“Yes, of course, Irene.” I turn to Ada and Frank. “Thank you so much for this wonderful meal. I had the best time.”
We all rise from our seats. Frank smiles, “We’re glad you enjoyed it, Clara. And we can’t wait to see you again.”
Everyone starts toward the door, saying goodbyes, but Marcel gently places a hand on my arm, speaking softly. “God works in mysterious ways, doesn’t he?”
“Save your flirtatious words for tomorrow, Marcel. Someone will hear you here.” I scold.
“Yes, ma’am.” He grins. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Clara.”
“Have a good evening, Cowboy.”
Revelation
Marcel 1986
The room is still.Just the sound of paper shifting as Eli opens the box and gently lifts out its contents. A bundle of letters, weathered at the edges, tied together with a simple length of twine.
He holds them in his hands for a moment, then lays them carefully on the table. The box drops to the floor with a dull thud.
“Now what?” he asks me.
My heart pounds as I rise, every step unsteady as I reach for the letters with trembling hands. The bundle feels heavier than paper should, as if they are carrying the weight of years. Across the table, Grace lets out a sharp, startled gasp, watching them move. To her eyes, the stack must look as though it floated on its own, lifted by invisible hands. Isaac says nothing, but I feel the focus of his gaze, locked on the letters as though he, too, senses the truth behind them.
I carry the bundle to Clara, setting it gently in front of her like a long-overdue offering. Then I slide into the seat beside her, closer than I should be, but I can’t bring myself to keep away.
