Then she asked quietly, "Does loving someone who died mean you can never love anyone else?"
The mountain man slowly turned toward her.
His expression was impossible to read.
Finally he said, "No."
Her heart quickened.
He continued.
"But sometimes a man becomes afraid of what happens when he lets himself love again."
She studied him.
"Because he might lose someone?"
He nodded.
"Or because he might bring trouble into her life."
She reached toward his hand.
He looked down.
For one beautiful instant, his fingers closed around hers.
Then he gently withdrew them.
The woman tried to hide her disappointment.
But that night, as she lay awake in her room, she realized she had already fallen in love.
And the man she loved was carrying a secret heavy enough to keep him from reaching for happiness.
Several weeks later, he asked her to marry him.
The proposal was nothing like the romantic stories she had read.
There were no flowers.
No musicians.
No grand declaration.
He stood beside the kitchen table while she prepared bread.
His hands were trembling.
She noticed immediately.
"Are you all right?"
He nodded.
Then shook his head.
She smiled.
"Which is it?"
He looked toward the floor.
"I've been thinking."
She laughed softly.
"That's dangerous."
He almost smiled.
Then grew serious.
"I know you could find work somewhere else."
She stopped kneading the dough.
"What?"
"When the roads clear."
She frowned.
"Yes."
"And I know you've only been here because the boardinghouse burned."
She studied him.
"Is that what you believe?"
He swallowed.
"I don't know."
The woman wiped her hands.
Then faced him.
"Tell me what you're trying to say."
He took a breath.
"I don't want you to leave."
Her heart stopped.
He continued.
"I want you here when the snow melts."
He looked toward the window.
"And when the trees turn green."
His voice trembled.
"And next winter."
She stared.
He looked at her again.
"And the one after that."
A tear slipped down her cheek.
The mountain man reached into his pocket.
Removed a small ring wrapped in cloth.
Then held it toward her.
"I know I'm not much of a romantic man."
She laughed through tears.
He continued.
"And I know this cabin isn't a grand home."
She shook her head.
He swallowed.
"But if you'd have me, I'd like to spend whatever years I've got left making sure you never feel unwanted again."