But he wasn’t that man anymore, was he? He couldn’t quit just because the going was getting real tough. He had to stick to his guns and learn to persevere. But at what cost? Would he have to let go of Greta in order to stay at the ranch and see it through?

Giving her up would be a fiery trial. The hardest yet. But through it, he couldn’t forget God would be walking beside him and helping him to the other side.

With a silent prayer for strength and wisdom, he forced himself to start toward Steele’s house, but then he halted in the middle of the street, turning and staring straight at Hotel Windsor.

What if he only had to release her temporarily? Their parting didn’t have to be forever, did it? He wanted Greta to do anything she could to save Astrid’s life. He’d support her and provide as much as possible to help her. And when she was done fighting to cure Astrid, the two of them could come back. He’d be here waiting for them. For her. For as long as it took.

Could he wrangle her into considering that option?

With his pulse picking up speed, he aimed for the hotel, jogging the last few steps. He threw open the door and spoke the first words that came to mind. “I’m sorry, Hallock. I love Greta. And I’m not giving her an annulment.”

Silence descended over the room, and every man present halted midmotion to gape at him.

With all the attention upon him, his insides curled up with embarrassment the same as the first time he’d barged into the hotel today, but he spoke again anyway. “I’ll help you find another bride. We’ll write letters and get someone else to come west for you. But the fact is, Greta is my wife, and I’m aiming to keep her.” He glanced at the corner tables, looking for Hallock and Greta.

“They’re not here.” Mr. Fehling stood in the middle of the dining room, coffeepot in one hand and a mug in the other. “They were sitting on the bench out front, and then the next thing we knew, they were walking down the street toward Mr. Steele’s house.”

Panic twined around Wyatt’s middle. There was only one reason the two would have gone to Steele’s—to get the annulment papers so Greta could sign them.

Wyatt spun, a fresh sense of urgency prodding him forward. He raced out the door and down the street. If she signed for an annulment, he wouldn’t touch a pen to the paper.