He looked into her eyes.
For one long moment, she thought he might reach for her hand.
Instead, he slowly stepped backward.
"I'll bring more flour to the boardinghouse next week."
She smiled.
"I'll look forward to it."
Then she left.
For the following month, he appeared regularly.
Sometimes with flour.
Sometimes with firewood.
Sometimes with small repairs the widow needed.
He never stayed long.
But he always found a reason to speak with the woman in blue.
She began saving him fresh biscuits.
He brought her dried mountain herbs.
She repaired a tear in his coat.
He made her a wooden sewing stand exactly the height she preferred.
One afternoon, he arrived carrying a small parcel.
Inside was a thick wool shawl dyed a beautiful royal blue.
The woman stared.
"What's this?"
He looked uncomfortable.
"Winter's coming."
She lifted the fabric.
It was soft.
Warm.
Beautiful.
She touched the edge.
"Did you buy this?"
He nodded.
"At the trading post."
She looked up.
"Why?"
He hesitated.
Then answered quietly.
"Because the color reminded me of your eyes when the firelight touches them."
The woman stopped breathing.
The mountain man seemed to realize what he'd said.
His face reddened beneath his beard.
He looked toward the door.
"I should go."
She reached for his hand.
"Wait."
He froze.
She smiled through tears.
"Thank you."
For a moment, his enormous hand remained in hers.
Then he gently withdrew it.
The woman watched him leave.
And for the first time, she began to suspect that the feared mountain wolf might be frightened of something ordinary.
Falling in love.
The next few weeks confirmed it.
He looked for her whenever he entered the boardinghouse.
He listened when she spoke.
He remembered small details.
The way she preferred tea with honey.
The fact that her left knee sometimes ached after long days standing.
Her love of blue fabric.
Her desire to someday own a kitchen where she could cook without answering to cruel customers.
But whenever the conversation turned toward affection, he became distant.
Not cold.
Not unkind.
Afraid.
She began wondering what had happened to him.
Then, in early autumn, the boardinghouse suffered a devastating fire.
It started in a storage room after a damaged lantern fell against dry packing material.
The flames spread quickly.
The widow and several guests escaped.
But the kitchen and much of the upper floor were destroyed.