“You think I'm going to pay him?”
“I think men see a woman in trouble and immediately become idiots.”
“Fair.”
She blinked.
He continued.
“I wasn't offering money.”
“You were going to.”
“I was going to ask what happened.”
“Why?”
“Because I care.”
“That doesn't make it your fight.”
“No.”
Elias nodded.
“It doesn't.”
Clara stared.
She had prepared for argument.
His agreement removed it.
He continued.
“If you want help, ask.”
“If not, I won't interfere.”
She looked at him carefully.
“You mean that?”
“Yes.”
“Even if I make a mistake?”
“Especially then.”
Clara's expression softened.
“That's infuriatingly reasonable.”
“I'm trying something new.”
She almost smiled.
Elias saddled fully.
Then removed something from his leather case.
A card.
Government courier identification.
He handed it to her.
“What is this?”
“Where messages can reach me through military post.”
Clara looked.
“Why?”
“Because I want to know you're alive.”
She gave it back.
He closed her fingers around it.
“Please.”
She kept it.
Then:
“Elias.”
“Yes?”
“The pie.”
His face lit.
“You're telling me?”
“No.”
He stared.
Clara smiled.
“Come back and maybe.”
“You are cruel.”
“I've heard.”
He kissed her once.
Then mounted.
Clara watched until he disappeared down Willow Creek Road.
Only then did she allow herself to cry.
Not much.
She had chores.
Elias returned thirteen days later.
Clara heard the horse.
This time she opened the door before he knocked.
He looked exhausted.
She looked furious.
“You said you didn't know.”
“I didn't.”
“Thirteen days.”
“Yes.”
“You counted?”
“No.”
He smiled.
“Liar.”
Clara grabbed his coat and kissed him.
Elias nearly dropped the dispatch case.
When they separated, he said:
“That welcome suggests I've improved my standing.”
“Take your boots off.”
“Romance.”
“Boots.”
“Yes.”
He entered.
The pie was not there.
He looked around.
Clara laughed.
“You came for dessert?”
“I had several reasons.”
“Name one.”
He stepped close.
Her back met the door.
His hand rested beside her head, not touching.
“You.”
Clara looked at his mouth.
“Better.”
They kissed again.
That night their intimacy went beyond kissing, though neither rushed it.
They spoke first.
About Thomas.
About the boys in Virginia.
About fear.
About whether Elias would leave again.
He would.
That was true.
Clara did not want false promises.
Elias did not give them.
When they finally disappeared into Clara's bedroom, it was because both wanted to, not because scarcity made either desperate enough to pretend tomorrow did not matter.
Morning came with Clara's hair loose over Elias's shoulder.
He was awake.
She knew because his thumb traced circles against her hand.