“After your third letter, I started building.”
Eleanor laughed softly through tears.
“Your third?”
He nodded.
“You told me you liked sitting near windows when it snowed.”
She looked toward the sturdy chair.
“So you made one.”
“Yes.”
“Before I'd agreed to marry you?”
He blushed.
“I suppose I was optimistic.”
Eleanor smiled.
For several seconds, she watched him.
Then asked quietly, “Will you sit with me?”
He nodded immediately.
“Of course.”
He helped arrange the room so they could sit comfortably facing one another. Then he lowered himself onto a separate sturdy bench beside the bed.
For a while, they talked.
About the cabin.
About the weather.
About the injured rider, who would need a careful journey to town when the trail reopened.
Then the conversation became quieter.
Eleanor looked toward Caleb.
“May I ask you something personal?”
He nodded.
“Yes.”
She hesitated.
“Have you ever been in love?”
His face reddened.
“No.”
She smiled sadly.
“Neither have I.”
He looked surprised.
“But you were married.”
Eleanor lowered her eyes.
“Yes.”
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Then she looked toward him.
“Henry wasn't a kind man.”
Caleb's expression softened.
“I know some of what you wrote.”
She nodded.
“There was more.”
He waited.
Eleanor took a breath.
“He made me feel ashamed of everything.”
Caleb listened.
“My size. My clothes. The way I walked. The way I laughed.”
Her voice trembled.
“He used to say that no respectable man would ever choose me unless he wanted something I owned.”
Caleb's jaw tightened.
She noticed.
“Please don't be angry.”
He shook his head.
“I'm not angry with you.”
Eleanor looked down.
For a moment, she struggled to continue.
“After enough years, I started believing him.”
Caleb remained silent.
Then he said quietly, “He was wrong.”
Eleanor gave a sad little laugh.
“You barely know me.”
He looked toward her.
“I know you stopped three armed men from entering our home without surrendering your judgment.”
She stared.
He continued.
“I know you helped a frightened young rider even after he came here to threaten you. I know you laugh when I lose utensils I'm already holding.”
A small smile appeared on her face.
Caleb's expression softened.
“And I know you stayed beside me when I showed you the scar I've hidden from everyone for nineteen years.”
Eleanor's eyes filled.
He continued.
“That's enough to know Henry Whitmore was wrong about you.”