Mr. Steele locked glares with Wyatt. Silence filled the space between the two. Finally Mr. Steele picked up his hat from the table, settled it on his head, then pushed in his chair. “McQuaid, I’ll meet you in my parlor in thirty minutes. We’ll talk cattle, and I’ll also have my assistant draw up annulment papers.”

Annulment. The word hit Greta like a blast of winter air, just as it had the first time he’d mentioned it.

Mr. Steele stalked past them without waiting for a reply.

Wyatt stood rigidly as the other men milled around the room.

“You’ll get your cattle, Wyatt.” She forced the words past her tight throat. “And your ranch is going to grow and become very successful. I just know it.”

His beautiful brown eyes studied her face, as if searching for something. His expression was somber but still oh-so-handsome, so much that her heart hurt just looking at him.

As much as he might think he wanted to stay with her, in the long run he’d realize the wisdom of investing in his ranch instead. She had to stay strong and push through her need to throw her arms around him and beg him not to end their marriage.

“This winter you’ll be able to construct the new addition onto the cabin, work on expanding the irrigation ditches, and start building fences in the pastures. By the time summer comes, you’ll be ready for your family and the cattle.” She hoped what she left unsaid came across—that he couldn’t give up all that to be with Astrid and her.

“Let’s just go on home, and we’ll figure it all out there. Please, Greta.”

“I have to speak with Mr. Hallock first.”

Before Wyatt could respond, some of the men who’d been helping search for Astrid approached and wanted to know more details about her condition. As Greta filled them in on the details, she was keenly aware of Wyatt next to her, the way he took off his hat, dug his fingers into his hair, and then expelled a taut breath. Finally, he jammed his hat back on, pivoted, and walked out, letting the door slam behind him.

An ache rose swiftly into Greta’s throat. She’d just cut him loose from his obligation to her and pushed him away. It was for the best, but she resisted the urge to run after him and tell him she didn’t want to lose him.

“Miss Nilsson?” A man cleared his throat.

She forced her attention back to the conversation at hand to find that Phineas had approached her. He was twisting at the buttons on his vest. Already stretched to the limit, the buttons looked as if they would pop off at any moment.