"It was the pretense of my aunt's money that allowed you to use your own?" She wondered at how calm she sounded.

He nodded.

"But why did you not simply use my aunt's funds?" she asked. "It was there for the specific purpose of buying me out of my father's troubles. Why not leave your own resources for another time?"

The muscles in his throat were working, and the look in his eyes made her heart ache. He had not used aunt Merriweather's money because the drive to own the mountain was stronger than anything else. He had got her, and the mountain and the schoolhouse, on his own terms.

Elizabeth looked away to try to sort out her thoughts, struggling desperately for some balance, but finding none.

"So in fact, you did buy Hidden Wolf without my help." She heard the tone of her voice rising, but she could not stop it. "And so I deceived my father out of his land to offer it to you—of my own free will—but you preferred to take it away from me instead. To suit your pride and to spite Richard."

They stood almost nose to nose, each of them breathing audibly.

"That's unfair," he said, the muscle in his cheek trembling dangerously. "We are legally married, Elizabeth, so it didn't seem to matter where the money came from."

"Oh, really," she interrupted, her eyes flaring. "Completely insignificant, was it?"

His brow furrowed, he said: "I thought you'd be pleased to have the schoolhouse, and your own money, too."

"No, Nathaniel. You have the schoolhouse. You bought it and the land it stands on with your money."

"To give to you!" he roared.

"You are impossibly dense!" she shouted, pushing at him with the heel of one hand so that he stepped backward. His expression shifting from surprise to anger, he stumbled and righted himself awkwardly, but she advanced on him again.

"Had you thought, had it not occurred to you, that perhaps I wanted to own something of my own? That for once it would be welcome not to be given something, but to claim it for myself?"

He had that tic in his cheek, the one she had last seen when he held a bloodied and helpless Richard Todd in his sights.

"So you wouldn't mind accepting the schoolhouse as a gift from your aunt, but you won't have it from me?" He laughed hoarsely. "More wisdom from Mrs. Wollstonecraft?"

Elizabeth raised her face to the darkening sky and let out a half scream of frustration. "You vain, self—centered, thoughtless, bloody man!"

"For Christ's sake, woman, I was trying to give you something you said you wanted!"

"But you had to take it away from me first, did you not? You are no better than Richard Todd!"

Nathaniel's head rocked back as if she had slapped him.

Horrified at her own words and still angry beyond her experience, Elizabeth looked around herself wildly, as if seeking help in the deepening shadows.

In two long strides Nathaniel reached the pyramid of supplies and weapons on the far side of the fire, and sweeping up his rifle in one hand, he jerked it up toward her, stock first. His jaw was set like granite. "Looking for this?" he asked sharply.

She drew in a shuddering breath.

"Go on," he said, dead calm. "Finish the job you started, if that's what you think of me."

Elizabeth stood very still, her fury suddenly spent: she could feel it running down her body, dripping from her fingertips with each shallow beat of her heart.

Every muscle in Nathaniel's arm stood out in relief, his fist strained white around the barrel of the gun. His mouth was set in a line just as unyielding. Sudden tears pricked behind her eyes and in her throat, a pain past bearing.

She turned away and walked into the woods.

* * *

Robbie was sitting near the fire whittling a new penny whistle when she returned, and he met her with a look of such compassion and sorrow that she nearly lost her resolve. She shook her head at him briefly. Nathaniel was stretched out on the far side of the fire, a long shape under his blanket turned away on one side. She knew he was not asleep; she could hear it in his breathing and see it in the tension in his shoulders.

Elizabeth stood at the edge of the small camp and hesitated. Robbie was watching her; Nathaniel had not moved. She approached him and stood looking down.

"How much did you pay my father's land agent for the land and the schoolhouse?"

"Three hundred dollars," he answered, without looking up at her.

"That's very dear," she said, surprised. "For such a small plot of land."

He was silent.

"I will buy it from you," she said. "With my own money."

Nathaniel sat up and slung his arms around his knees. The firelight played on his face, bringing his cheekbones into high relief and drawing deep shadows on the hollows beneath. There was not the hint of a smile about him. "Make me an offer."

"I'll give you the three hundred you paid for it."

He grunted. "What profit is there in that?"

Elizabeth thought for a moment. "Three hundred twenty—five."

"Four hundred."

She bristled. "Three hundred fifty dollars."

"Four hundred," said Nathaniel, sticking a long blade of grass between his teeth.

"That is a thirty—three percent profit," she sputtered. "For an investment of—”

“About eleven weeks," he supplied.

Elizabeth folded her arms across her chest.