The Ranch Needs a Wedding

How it begins

The cowboy read the marriage clause twice.

Anna watched his expression move from irritation to disbelief.

"No," he said.

"That's what I told the solicitor."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because the reservoir will be empty in nineteen days."

Caleb Ross looked toward the window. Beyond the ranch office, the fields had the color of old toast. A dust devil crossed the yard, carrying a feed receipt nobody intended to pay.

Anna placed her rainfall chart beside the covenant.

"The agreement joins the properties through a married household. It was written in 1912."

"People had worse ideas in 1912."

"They also had more water."

He took off his hat and set it carefully on the desk.

She had expected charm, or arrogance, or the practiced helplessness of a man hoping she would solve the problem without troubling him. Instead he read every line.

"Your land is the research station."

"For another six weeks."

"And mine includes the pump."

"The community pump. Your family maintains it."

"Maintained."

Anna looked at him.

He opened a drawer and removed a repair estimate.

The number explained the silence outside. No irrigation motors. No livestock trough filling. Just wind dragging grit along the office floor.

"I can get the grant," she said.

"Only if the water agreement stands."

"Yes."

Caleb leaned back.

Outside, an elderly woman climbed out of a pickup carrying two empty containers.

"My neighbor," he said.

Anna could see that he wanted to go to her and did not know what to bring.

"We'd need separate lawyers," Anna said.

He turned back.

"Separate rooms. Separate finances. A clear end date. Nobody gets to mistake this for consent to anything else."

Caleb looked at the covenant again.

Then he put on his hat.

"First," he said, "we fill her containers."

Anna picked up the rainfall chart.

For the first time that morning, she thought they might be able to work together.