“He came asking about you months ago.”
Rosalie stared.
“That isn’t possible.”
“I saw him.”
“When?”
“September.”
Three months before her father had announced the marriage arrangement.
“What did he want?”
Merrick shrugged.
“Wouldn’t say.”
“Why didn’t Father tell me?”
“Ask him.”
Rosalie said almost nothing during the ride home.
Gideon noticed.
Halfway to the ranch, he stopped the wagon.
He opened the notebook.
What happened?
Rosalie considered lying.
Instead, she wrote:
Merrick says you asked about me months before our marriage.
Gideon’s face changed.
That was all the confirmation she needed.
Why?
He stared at the question.
Rosalie waited.
Snow melted from the branches overhead, falling softly around them.
Finally Gideon wrote:
I knew your mother.
Rosalie’s breath caught.
What?
Not well.
How?
Gideon looked toward the northern ridge.
