Chapter 15 - The Letter Silas Finally Wrote Himself
Ruth’s letter was short.
If there is ever another woman in this house, do not ask her to become me.
Evelyn stopped reading.
Silas sat beside her.
“Continue.”
She did.
Hazel will try to make her responsible for everyone.
Hazel covered her mouth.
Thomas will distrust her.
Thomas stared.
Clara will compare everything.
Clara started crying.
Bennett will probably ask whether she can cook.
Everyone looked at Bennett.
“What?”
Evelyn laughed through tears.
The final lines were for Silas.
And you, stubborn man, will believe loving someone again betrays me.
Silas’s face crumpled.
It doesn’t.
The only betrayal would be teaching our children that love ends when one person dies.
Silas lowered his head.
Evelyn folded the letter.
For several minutes nobody spoke.
Then Hazel whispered, “Mama knew.”
Silas nodded.
“She always did.”
The wedding was planned for early June.
Small.
At the ranch.
No ballroom.
No elaborate dress.
Evelyn wanted wildflowers.
Clara insisted on stars sewn onto her own skirt.
Thomas volunteered to repair the porch.
Bennett wanted cake.
Eli wanted two cakes.
Three days before the wedding, Evelyn found Silas at the kitchen table writing.
“What are you doing?”
“A letter.”
“To whom?”
“You.”
“You realize I’m standing here?”
“Yes.”
He folded it.
“You may read it tomorrow.”
“Why not now?”
“Because I finally understand anticipation.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“I dislike your personal growth.”
Silas smiled.
The following morning the letter rested outside her bedroom.
Evelyn opened it.
His handwriting remained awful.
But every word was his.
Evelyn,
The first letters you received from this house were written by children who thought they needed to find a woman to save us.
They were wrong.
We did not need a woman to save us.
We needed to stop hiding from one another.
But I am grateful they wrote anyway, because their mistake brought you to our door.
You have never replaced Ruth.
You have never rescued me.
You have done something more difficult.
You stood close enough that I had to see myself clearly.
Evelyn wiped her eyes.
I love you without debt.
Without obligation.
Without needing you to become anything except who you already are.
If you still want this stubborn rancher after reading his first honest letter, meet me by the cottonwood tomorrow.
Silas.
Evelyn pressed the paper to her chest.
Hazel appeared.
“You’re crying.”
“Go away.”
“Is it good?”
“Hazel.”
“It took him two hours.”
“You helped?”
“No.”
Hazel grinned.
“He wouldn’t let us.”
That mattered almost as much as the letter.
Silas had written it himself.
No intermediaries.
No children constructing his heart for him.
No stranger deciding what he meant.
The wedding morning arrived warm and bright.
But just before the ceremony, a rider came from town.
The church roof had caught fire overnight.
Nobody injured.
But half the town was helping control damage.
Their minister could not come.
Bennett looked horrified.
“No wedding?”
Hazel said, “We could wait.”
Evelyn looked at Silas.
Silas looked at Evelyn.
Then Eli shouted, “Use the barn!”
So they did.
Neighbors arrived carrying food.
Nathaniel found a retired judge among the guests.
Clara scattered wildflowers.
Thomas stood beside his father.
Hazel held Evelyn’s hands before they entered.
“Do you wish I never wrote those letters?”
Evelyn considered.
“I wish you hadn’t lied.”
Hazel’s face fell.
“But no.”
Hope returned.
“I don’t wish I had missed this life.”
Hazel hugged her.
Then bells sounded from town.
Not wedding bells.
Alarm bells.
A rider appeared at the edge of the property.
He shouted:
“Rowan! Your north pasture is burning!”
May you like
And in an instant, the wedding became a race to save everything they had fought to keep.
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