Josie moved closer and placed both hands against the front of his work shirt. The fabric was warm from the fire. She rested her forehead against his chest and let out a shaky breath.
Caleb's arms remained at his sides for a moment.
“Would you like me to hold you?” he asked.
She nodded against him.
He wrapped his arms around her gently, leaving enough space that she could step away whenever she wanted. Josie closed her eyes and listened to the steady rhythm of his breathing.
For a long time, she said nothing.
Then, in a voice muffled against his shirt, she whispered, “I thought marriage meant I had to surrender everything.”
Caleb's hand rested lightly between her shoulder blades. “It shouldn't.”
“I thought if I refused you, you would become like him.”
“I won't.”
“I know that now.”
He did not answer immediately. Instead, he held her in silence, allowing her to settle without trying to turn the moment into something more.
Eventually she leaned back, wiping her cheeks with the heel of her hand.
“I'm sorry,” she said.
“For what?”
“For crying all over your shirt.”
Caleb glanced down at the damp patch on the fabric. “It's a work shirt. It'll survive.”
A small laugh escaped her.
He smiled. “There you are again.”
She looked at him, her face still wet with tears. “I don't think I want to sleep alone tonight.”
“Would you like me to stay beside the bed?”
“Yes.”
“Would you prefer the chair?”
She hesitated. “Could you sit beside me until I fall asleep?”
“Of course.”
“And after that?”
“I'll stay where you're comfortable.”
Josie considered the answer, then took his hand.
“Beside me,” she said. “Not across the room.”
Caleb nodded.
They returned to the bed. Josie climbed beneath the wolf furs and settled against the pillows, while Caleb sat on the edge of the mattress, keeping his boots on the floor and his posture relaxed. She reached for his hand and placed it between both of hers.
“Tell me about the mountains,” she said.
“What about them?”
“Anything. Something ordinary.”
Caleb thought for a moment. “There's a blue jay that comes to the woodpile every morning. He steals bits of dried meat if I leave the pantry window open.”
Josie smiled. “You let him?”
“Not intentionally.”
“Does he come anyway?”