Construction began the next morning, the old woman’s words ringing in my head. You’ll regret this, boy. I tried to ignore the voice, focusing instead on building the most beautiful house I could imagine. Each element of the house was carefully selected to be of the newest fashion, and the highest quality. I couldn’t have Hannah being ashamed of our new home. The house was decorated with the finest materials, and I even hired a man from the city to install the newest form of electricity so Hannah wouldn’t have to mess about with oil lamps at night. A plumber was also hired, to install the first indoor bathroom the small town had ever seen. I wasn’t about to make Hannah use a chamber pot, and I wanted her to be able to take baths whenever she wanted. And of course, I built a special room for myself, just off the foyer. The house was for Hannah. Everything was for Hannah. But I thought maybe I could let myself have one room.

I bought the nicest furniture, arranging the rooms so they were ready for my new soon-to-be bride to move right in. The cook stocked the pantry with everything we could possibly need, so Hannah wouldn’t have to worry about anything for ages. The handymen hung paintings that reminded me of Hannah, sunsets that looked like her hair on Sunday mornings. Lakes that reflected the shade of blue she liked to wear. Gardeners planted rose bushes all around the house, the same shade of red as Hannah’s full lips. They would look so beautiful in full bloom. Maybe we could even be married in front of them, if Hannah wasn’t opposed to a non-church wedding.

Before I knew it, the house was completed. I arrived one Sunday afternoon to do a final walkthrough. I wandered the rooms, picturing how Hannah and I would spend the rest of our lives together. She would meet me there shortly, and finally get to see her new home.

A knock at the door had me straightening my shirt, wanting to look my best for Hannah’s first time at our new home. But when I swung open the door, it wasn’t Hannah. It was the old traveler woman on my doorstep. “What are you doing here?” I asked.

She glared at me. “I warned you, boy. I told you not to mess with us. You kicked us off all the same. Right before the snows, too. By the time we found a new place to camp, many of my people died of the cold.”

“It was my land. I bought it fair and square.” I threw my shoulders back, ready to remove the old woman by force if necessary. I felt bad about the deaths, but it wasn’t my fault they had chosen to live the way they had. Was it? I reminded her, “I offered you money, if you recall.”