Many women on farms put up jam every autumn. Even so, she seemed to have made a hobby of it. What other hobbies did she have? He knew so little about her.

“I could get right to work making jam,” she said more tentatively. “And sell it, if you think people might buy it.”

“Reckon so.” He picked a grouping of the berries and added them to her apron. “Men around here are always looking for something sweet to add to their usual fare of pork and beans. I know for a fact just how old the same grub gets day after day.”

“We can see if the hotels in town want to buy the jam too. I’d just need to find jars along with wax for sealing them.”

He paused, his hand deep into the chokecherry bush. Not only would she need sugar, but jars and wax? The cost would add up real fast. How would he afford it when he barely had enough to dicker for the basic necessities?

Her fingers stilled, as if she’d sensed his questions. “Don’t worry. I’ll figure out a way to pay for everything without burdening you.”

“Won’t be a burden. It’s just that I ain’t got a penny to spare right now with trying to build my herd and all.”

A mere foot away, she tilted her head and peered off into the distance. With her lips pursed in thought and her expression etched with determination, a sense of kinship swelled in his chest. She was the sort of person who wasn’t afraid to take risks. And he could respect that, even if he didn’t have much more than a wish and a prayer to lend her.

“I saw that you have some flour and sugar and lard,” she said, as though thinking out loud. “If you’ll let me borrow what you have, I’ll make hand pies with the first chokecherries, sell them in town, and use the profits to pay you back as well as purchase more supplies.”

“Don’t care a lick about you paying me back—”

“I will. I promise I’ll do this without costing you a cent except for a few initial ingredients I borrow.”

“You ain’t borrowing—”

Her brows furrowed.

“What I mean is that you ain’t borrowing ’cause it’s already yours.”

“No, it’s yours—”

“It’s ours.” He motioned back and forth between them. “You’re my wife, and whatever we have is ours.”

His wife. The realization was still strange. To think that yesterday when he’d woken up, he had no notion of getting married anytime in the near future. And today, he was hitched and had himself a wife.

A very pretty wife. The growing daylight reflected off her loose hair, turning the light brown to gold. And it made the silver blue of her eyes brighter and clearer, like a mountain lake.