Afraid of being laughed at.
Afraid that kindness would disappear the moment she needed something inconvenient.
Their fears met in the space between them.
And slowly, through ordinary acts of care, they began teaching each other that not every relationship required someone to suffer.
On the third night, Caleb showed Eleanor the bedroom he had prepared for her.
Until then, she had been sleeping in a separate downstairs room while the injured rider remained sheltered near the main hearth. Caleb insisted that she should have privacy and enough space to move comfortably, and he had no expectation that their wedding vows required them to share a bed before she wished to.
The bedroom was larger than she expected.
He had widened the doorway.
Reinforced the bed frame.
And positioned sturdy supports near the furniture so she could move without depending upon fragile objects.
The mattress was broad and thick.
The blankets were clean.
And beside the window stood a small wooden table holding a glass jar filled with dried flowers.
Eleanor stopped in the doorway.
For several seconds, she stared.
Then whispered, “Caleb.”
He looked nervous.
“Is something wrong?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
He glanced around.
“I can change things. If the bed isn't suitable, I'll rebuild it. And the chair by the window—”
“Caleb.”
He stopped.
She looked toward the flowers.
“Did you put those there?”
He nodded.
“You said you missed flowers in winter.”
Eleanor felt her eyes fill.
He continued awkwardly.
“They're dried. I collected them last summer. I thought perhaps—”
She reached for his hand.
He fell silent.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Eleanor whispered, “Nobody has ever made a room for me before.”
Caleb stared.
She looked toward the wide bed.
The sturdy chair.
The carefully positioned supports.
Henry's house had been beautiful, filled with expensive furniture and delicate decorations. But the rooms were designed for appearances rather than the people living in them.
Every chair seemed to remind Eleanor that she was unwelcome.
Every doorway required caution.
Every damaged object became another opportunity for Henry to humiliate her.
Now she stood in a rough mountain cabin where a man had spent weeks building things simply because he wanted her to be comfortable.
Her throat tightened.
“Caleb, you didn't know whether I'd come.”
He smiled faintly.
“I hoped.”
She looked up.
He continued.