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choking the back of her throat faded.
    She couldn’t imagine not being able to learn whatever she wanted to with ease. Her mother’s book collection, her father’s willingness to answer her every question, and her ability to soak it all in came without effort. What if her mind hadn’t been so quick? “We just have to find something that works for you. Maybe the picture thing only works for Allen.”
    “But it makes sense.” He grumbled and grabbed a cookie.
    She set another cookie on his plate and took two for herself. “Well then, maybe you need more practice. I certainly didn’t learn to read in a day.”
    “Are you sure about that?”
    She stilled. She couldn’t remember not reading.
    He huffed and glanced at the mantle clock. “It’s been four days.”
    “You sure don’t give yourself much time to do things.”
    He tore apart his cookie in chunks but didn’t eat the pieces. “Nothing else is this hard.”
    “But see? If you naturally excel at everything else, you can’t be stupid.”
    “Even little kids read better than me.” He shoved his plate away.
    She reached toward him but let her hand fall beside him before making contact. If she started touching his hand again today she wouldn’t stop. “But you dropped out of school when you were twelve.”
    “My pa dropped out at eight, and he could read better than this.” He shook his head. “And you were six then and read circles around the reading I’m doing now.”
    “So you have a problem we didn’t.” One that had caused him years of suffering she’d never known about. “Doesn’t mean you can’t overcome it. With enough practice, you could even go to college one day.”
    He snorted. “Not unless I packed you in my suitcase and hid you under my desk to do the work for me.” He colored for some reason and turned to look out the window. “My ma handled all the farm’s bookwork.”
    “Who’s handling that now?”
    “Grant.”
    “Who’ll handle that in Kansas?”
    He fidgeted in his chair.
    He’d need somebody to do that for him. She scooted closer but bit back the idea, curling her tongue. Too forward. Unasked-for. Foolish.
    But what if she was in love with the man?
    She’d been trying hard lately not to offer people advice or help unless they asked. Most men thought her ideas weren’t worth much because she was female. Did Dex feel threatened by her superior academic skills?
    He shouldn’t. He may not be able to parse ambulo , but he’d saved his mother from financial ruin at the age of twelve, worked every day from dawn to dusk so his brothers could finish school, and now ran the best little dairy in town. She’d follow him anywhere without an ounce of worry that he could provide.
    But was she crazy enough to propose a convenient marriage when he’d never shown interest in her? She could do his paperwork, and surely he’d come to love her, right? Her shaky hand pressed against the jitters in her stomach. If anyone needed her, Dex did. People married for convenience all the time, in fact for lesser—
    “That’s the beauty of a homestead: no need to write or read anything to succeed at farming.” Dex stared at the pen in his hand as if it were his nemesis.
    The air left her lungs, sagging her shoulders. How dumb to jump back so quickly into her schoolgirl dreams. She stared at her twiddling thumbs. As if academic abilities were reason enough to push herself onto Dex when her skills mattered little to a farmer.
    “And it doesn’t matter how poorly I write my grocery list if I’m the only one reading it.”
    Right. What farmer needed to know Cicero? Or algebra? Well, some algebra would come in handy—
    “Where’s the cookies?” Patricia swooped in from the hall, and Rachel scowled. The door had to be open for propriety, but her sister didn’t need cookies enough to interrupt.
    Rachel held up the plate and didn’t even look at her sister. “Here, take one.”
    “Hello, Dex.”
    Dex draped his arm over the back of