"I kept telling myself I'd explain when you were ready."
Her voice trembled.
"Then I began caring about you."
I stared.
For several seconds, the fire was the only sound.
Josephine continued.
"And the longer I stayed, the more afraid I became that you'd think every kind thing I said was part of some plan to make you help me."
I looked toward the map.
My thoughts were tangled.
I had saved her.
Trusted her.
And begun developing feelings I scarcely understood.
Now I learned she'd been searching for me before we met.
Part of me felt betrayed.
Another part understood why a frightened young woman might struggle to reveal a secret tied to my deepest grief.
I took a slow breath.
"Josephine, I don't know what to think."
She nodded.
"I know."
For a moment, she looked away.
Then whispered.
"I'm sorry."
I wanted to reach for her hand.
But I couldn't.
Not yet.
The next several days were uncomfortable.
We continued our routines.
I fed the horses.
Josephine helped organize supplies and repaired clothing.
We shared meals.
But the easy laughter disappeared.
I didn't know whether the woman I'd begun loving had come into my life because she wanted me or because she needed something from my past.
I hated thinking that way.
She'd never asked for money.
Never demanded that I surrender the land.
And never treated me like a man whose feelings didn't matter.
But I'd spent twenty years protecting myself from another betrayal.
Now I was being asked to trust someone who had concealed an important part of her purpose.
One evening, Josephine spoke while I was repairing a chair.
"Hiram?"
I looked up.
"Yes?"
"I don't expect you to forgive me immediately."
I remained quiet.
She continued.
"But I want you to know the things I said during these months were real."
I stared at the chair.
For several seconds, I couldn't answer.
Then I asked.
"Even the part about wanting to stay?"
Her eyes filled.
"Especially that."
I looked toward her.
For a moment, something painful moved through my chest.
Then I returned to the chair.
"Let's get through the winter."
She nodded.
I saw the disappointment in her face.
And I hated myself for causing it.
But I needed time.
The weather began changing near the end of March.
Snow still covered the higher slopes, but the lower valley showed patches of brown earth and frozen grass.