“You don't have to prove anything to me.”
“I know that too.”
“Then tell me what you want right now.”
She looked at the open space beside her on the bed. The wolf furs had fallen into a thick fold, leaving a narrow place where the blankets were still warm. She felt embarrassed by the simplicity of her wish.
“I want you to sit beside me,” she said. “Not too close. Just beside me.”
Caleb rose slowly.
He crossed the room, but stopped several feet from the bed. “Here?”
Josie nodded.
He approached and sat on the edge of the mattress, leaving a careful distance between them. The bed creaked under his weight. He kept his hands resting on his knees, his posture relaxed but attentive.
Josie looked at the space between their shoulders.
“Closer,” she whispered.
Caleb shifted a little, then stopped.
“Is that all right?”
“Yes.”
They sat in silence.
The fire snapped, and a log settled deeper into the coals. Josie could feel the warmth of him beside her, a steady presence beneath the storm's distant roar. She was aware of his size, his strength, and the roughness of his hands. Yet none of those things seemed to demand anything from her.
She turned her head.
“May I hold your hand?”
Caleb looked at her, and the tenderness in his expression made her eyes sting.
“Yes.”
He offered his hand palm-up, allowing her to decide how to take it. Josie placed her fingers in his. His palm was warm and calloused, the skin marked by old work and older injuries. She rested her hand there for a moment, then curled her fingers around his.
He did not tighten his grip until she did.
That small courtesy nearly undid her.
“I don't know why I'm crying,” she whispered.
“You've had a hard few months.”
“I should be happy. I'm married. I have a home. I have food and a fire.”
“You can be grateful and still be frightened.”
She shook her head. “I thought if I came west, everything would be different.”
“Some things are.”
“But I brought myself with me.”
Caleb considered that. “You did.”
“And all the things I was afraid of.”
“Yes.”
She watched their joined hands. “Can those things change?”
“They can.”
“How?”
“Not all at once. And not because somebody orders you to.”
She breathed slowly, trying to let the answer settle inside her.
“Do you ever get afraid?” she asked.