Chapter 18 - A Cabin With Two Plates
Rebecca Collins arrived in Montana six weeks later.
She stepped down from the stage wearing a blue traveling dress and an expression so much like Thomas’s when annoyed that Alandre began crying before either woman spoke.
Rebecca did too.
Then they embraced in the middle of Pine Hollow.
“You look thin,” Rebecca said.
“You sound like Thomas.”
“He learned it from me.”
Jed stood several yards away holding Rebecca’s luggage.
She examined him.
“So.”
Jed shifted.
“So?”
“You’re the outlaw.”
“Former.”
“Convenient distinction.”
Alandre hid a smile.
Rebecca continued studying him.
“Thomas wrote about you.”
Jed looked uncomfortable.
“Good things?”
“Eventually.”
Alandre laughed.
Rebecca stayed at Black Pine Ridge for a month.
She brought a small wooden box Thomas had left with her the previous year.
Inside was not evidence.
No secrets about Clayton.
No money.
There was a bundle of letters Thomas had written but never mailed.
Most were ordinary.
Complaints about weather.
Plans for a house.
Ideas for a garden.
One concerned Alandre.
Rebecca handed it over privately.
Alandre read it on the porch.
Becca,
Alandre worries too much about whether she is doing life correctly. She thinks love is a promise to never change. I think love is the promise to let someone change without making them ashamed of it. If anything ever happens to me, don't let her make a monument out of grief. She deserves rooms with open windows. She deserves noise. She deserves to laugh without apologizing.
Alandre stopped reading.
Tears fell onto the page.
Jed came outside but remained near the door.
“Bad?”
“No.”
She handed him the letter.
He read.
When he finished, he looked away toward the mountains.
“Annoying man.”
Alandre laughed.
“Very.”
Jed sat beside her.
“Rooms with open windows.”
“Yes.”
“Our new room has two.”
“I noticed.”
“Coincidence.”
“Of course.”
That summer, Black Pine Ridge changed.
Jed built a larger table.
Alandre planted herbs beside the cabin.
They added chickens.
One escaped constantly and developed an irrational hatred of Jed’s boots.
Alandre named it Clayton.
Jed objected.
“That bird’s innocent.”
“You’re right.”
She renamed it Pike.
Jed approved.
Travelers began stopping occasionally.
Word spread that Boone’s cabin offered food if weather became dangerous.
Alandre charged nothing.
Jed complained about this.
Then quietly built two extra bunks.
One evening a family arrived during heavy rain.
A father.
Mother.
Two children.
They stayed three nights.
The youngest girl watched Alandre cook.
“Why are there two plates on the shelf by themselves?”
Alandre looked.
Two old tin plates sat above the stove.
One had belonged to Thomas.
One to Jed before she arrived.
She had kept them side by side without thinking.
“Those remind me of people,” she said.
“Dead people?”
“One.”
The girl considered.
“Is that sad?”
“Sometimes.”
“Why keep it?”
Alandre smiled.
“Because sad things can still belong in a happy house.”
The girl accepted that more easily than most adults would.
Later that night, Jed joined Alandre on the porch.
“You’re good with children.”
“So?”
“Nothing.”
She looked at him.
“Jedodiah.”
He suddenly became fascinated by the railing.
Alandre smiled.
Months earlier, talking about tomorrow terrified him.
Now he was quietly imagining years.
She rested her head against his shoulder.
In August, Marshal Mercer visited.
He brought official papers confirming several final claims had been restored.
And one more thing.
The federal government had withdrawn the remaining robbery warrant against Jed after restitution agreements and his cooperation were completed.
“No more reporting to Helena,” Mercer said.
Jed stared at the document.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“You sure?”
Mercer shrugged.
“I can arrest you for doubting federal paperwork.”
Jed smiled.
Alandre hugged Mercer.
The marshal looked deeply uncomfortable.
“Ma’am.”
“Get used to it.”
“I will not.”
He stayed for supper.
Alandre served roast chicken.
Jed looked suspiciously toward the yard.
“Not Pike?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Mercer looked between them.
“I’m not asking.”
After dinner, Mercer rode away.
Dusk settled over the mountains.
Jed stood beside Alandre.
“Free man.”
She smiled.
“What are you going to do with all that freedom?”
He reached into his pocket.
Alandre’s breath caught.
Jed pulled out a small wooden box.
Inside was a simple silver ring.
No pearl.
No rattlesnake.
Nothing ornate.
“I thought about buying something fancy.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“You’d make fun of me.”
“Correct.”
He looked terrified.
Alandre loved that.
“Alandre Collins.”
“Yes?”
“When you came here, you offered to cook for shelter.”
“I remember.”
“My counteroffer involved laughter.”
“Terrible negotiation.”
“Worked.”
She smiled.
Jed swallowed.
“I don’t want you here because you need shelter anymore.”
Her eyes filled.
“I want you here because this place became home when you walked into it.”
Alandre covered her mouth.
Jed continued.
“I can’t promise I’ll never make mistakes.”
“Good start.”
“I can promise I’ll stop hiding them under floorboards.”
She laughed.
“Better.”
He held out the ring.
“Will you marry me?”
Alandre looked toward the cabin.
The open windows.
The garden.
The table.
Thomas’s old plate.
The mountain man who once believed his past made him unworthy of a future.
Then she looked back at Jed.
“Yes.”
His entire body relaxed.
“That's it?”
“What do you mean?”
“I expected conditions.”
“Oh.”
Alandre pretended to consider.
“One.”
He narrowed his eyes.
“What?”
“If I’m seasoning the food with laughter, you have to help.”
Jed smiled.
“I can do that.”
Three months later, beneath golden cottonwood leaves, they married beside the cabin.
Rebecca stood with Alandre.
Amos Hale stood with Jed.
Marshal Mercer complained about the cold.
Nathan brought two horses and reminded Alandre she still owed him one.
Alandre laughed more that day than she had in years.
And when Jed slipped the ring onto her finger, she did not feel that she was replacing Thomas.
Love was not a chair that only one person could occupy.
The heart was stranger than that.
Larger.
It could hold grief and gratitude.
Memory and hope.
A first love.
And a second beginning.
That night, after everyone left, Alandre placed two plates on the table.
Jed looked at them.
“Only two?”
She smiled.
“For now.”
He understood.
May you like
And beyond the windows, the first light snow of the season began falling.
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