Silence between the two men lingered to the point of discomfiture.
"So, you've decided to marry up," Crabb said.
"Yes," Cleav answered civilly. "It seems the only thing to do. If she's ready to come with me now, I'm sure we can get Reverend Tewksbury to marry us this evening."
"You in a hurry to have her?"
"Mr. Crabb, I'm sure you know what's being said. I—"
"I know exactly what folks are running their mouths about. And I can tell you for damn near certain that I'm even madder about it than you are."
The fury in the old man's eyes convinced Cleav he was speaking the truth.
"But," Crabb continued, "my Esme is only getting married up one time. She's deserving better than a hide-in-a-hole weddin' with a man that thinks she ain't good enough for him."
Cleav suddenly realized that he had merely assumed that Esme would marry him. He certainly hadn't imagined any resistance from the Crabb family.
"You are mistaken, Mr. Crabb, if you do not think that I hold your daughter in high regard."
Yohan looked at him dubiously. "I'm listening," he said.
Cleav hesitated momentarily, groping for words. "Esme . . . Esme is . . . bright, yes, very bright and comely, in her own way, and a hard worker," he finished confidently. "She'll make a wonderful wife that any man would be proud to call his own."
Crabb nodded. "You're right about that, Rhy," he told him. "Trouble is, you don't believe it."
Cleav saw his chances and his reputation disappearing before his eyes.
"Mr. Crabb, I—"
Yohan held up a hand to silence him. "You want to marry up with my Esme? Then you're gonna have to do it right," he said.
Cleav nodded weakly, indicating agreement.
"No midnight marriage and sneaking her off to your house," he stated firmly. "She gets a real wedding with music and flowers and the whole town standing in the church to hear you make your vows to her."
Cleav almost choked, clearly not pleased with the prospect. "Do you think that's best?"
"I sure do! It ain't like folks won't hear about it anyhow."
"But," Cleav protested, "the need for haste is—"
Yo shook his head in disagreement. "They's haste and they's foolishness." The older man hesitated, taking measure of his prospective son-in-law. "You get a wedding set up by Sunday," Yo said finally, "and I'll bring her down the mountain to marry you."
"Fine," Cleav agreed. The day after tomorrow was surely soon enough.
"All right," Crabb said and offered his hand to clinch the deal.
"Perhaps I should speak to Esme now?"
"What for?" her father asked him.
"To formally request her hand," Cleav told him. "To see how she feels about the wedding."
Crabb shook his head. "The way I hear it, you've already seen more of my daughter than a bridegroom is entitled to!"
Cleav's clenched teeth threatened to break, but he didn't back down. "There are things that need to be said between us," he insisted.
"They'll be plenty of time for talk after she's your missus. You got anything to say before then," Yo told him, "you just tell it to me."
