Josephine watched him lift the heavy wedding dress.
He frowned.
“What?”
“The hem.”
Josephine looked down.
“What about it?”
“Feels heavy.”
“It’s wet.”
Harlan’s hand remained beneath the fabric.
For the first time since entering the cabin, genuine alarm crossed his face.
Josephine saw it.
“You know something.”
He slowly lowered the dress.
“No.”
“You just changed.”
“I’m thinking.”
“About what?”
Harlan looked toward the window.
Snow hammered the glass.
“About how fast the storm is moving.”
Josephine did not believe him.
But she was too exhausted to argue.
He motioned toward the rocking chair.
“Sit down.”
Josephine sat.
Harlan brought a bowl of stew, bread, and a spoon.
She stared at the food.
There were potatoes in the stew.
Carrots.
Chunks of meat.
Actual butter glistened on the bread.
Josephine had not eaten a meal like this in months.
Her family had not been starving.
But after her mother’s death, Josephine somehow always became the person expected to eat less.
Aunt Lydia would watch her plate.
“You certainly don’t need another helping.”
Her father rarely noticed.
Josephine learned to leave the table hungry.
Now she hesitated.
Harlan sat opposite her.
“Aren’t you eating?”
“After you.”
Josephine’s cheeks heated.
“You think I’ll eat everything?”
His expression hardened.
“No.”
“I’ve heard the jokes.”
“I didn’t make one.”
“You were thinking something.”
“Yes.”
She stared at him.
Harlan nodded toward the bowl.
“I was thinking you look like someone who hasn’t eaten enough this week.”
Josephine almost laughed.
It came out as a strange breath.
“No one has ever accused me of that.”
“They should use their eyes.”
The bluntness silenced her.
Josephine lifted the spoon.
She ate.
Harlan did not watch each bite.
He cleaned the snow from his rifle.
The silence was strange.
But for once, it was not hostile.
When Josephine finished, Harlan immediately filled the bowl again.
She shook her head.
“I couldn’t.”
“You can.”
“I’ve had enough.”
He looked at her carefully.
“Enough because you’re full?”
Josephine hesitated.
Harlan waited.
She lowered her eyes.
“I don’t know.”
His jaw tightened.
“Eat until you know.”
Josephine took another bite.
Something painful pressed behind her eyes.
Not because of the stew.
Because no one had ever made hunger sound like something she was allowed to solve.
The second bowl took longer.
Halfway through it, warmth began returning to her hands.
By the time she stopped, she genuinely felt full.
Josephine pushed the bowl away.
“Now I know.”
Harlan nodded once.
“Good.”
He finally served himself.
Josephine watched him eat.
Despite his size, he moved quietly.
Carefully.
Almost as though he were afraid of taking up too much space.
That was absurd.
Harlan Creek could not enter any room without becoming the largest thing inside it.
Yet somehow he seemed practiced at making himself less threatening.
Josephine pulled the robe closer.
“Why did you buy me?”