Her expression became distant.
“Because I was exhausted.”
He frowned.
She continued.
“The morning your fever finally broke, you seemed much stronger. You'd been sleeping peacefully for hours.”
She looked toward the hearth.
“I went into the storage room to rest. The cot was too narrow for me, and I'd spent several nights sitting in my chair beside you.”
His eyes widened.
“I remember a chair.”
She nodded.
“I fell asleep.”
He closed his eyes.
“When I woke, I thought you had left.”
She smiled sadly.
“When I returned, you were gone.”
He looked at her.
“I left money.”
She nodded.
“You did.”
“And a note.”
“I kept that too.”
He stared.
She smiled faintly.
“It was a very short note.”
He frowned.
“What did it say?”
She looked toward the old glove.
“Thank you. I owe you my life.”
His expression changed.
He remembered writing those words.
His hand had been shaking.
The letters were crooked.
He had wanted to say more, but he couldn't think clearly.
She continued.
“I knew you wanted to thank me. But you didn't owe me anything.”
He looked toward her.
She smiled sadly.
“And I knew if we met again, you might think you had to stay because of what happened.”
He shook his head.
“That's not how I feel.”
She looked uncertain.
He tightened his hand around hers.
“I come here because I want to.”
Her lips trembled.
He continued.
“I bring meat because you make me feel useful without making me feel foolish. I bring firewood because I like knowing your stove will stay warm.”
He paused.
“And I leave because I'm afraid of how much I want to come back.”
The woman stared.
Tears gathered in her eyes.
The rancher swallowed.
“I've been afraid of loving anyone since my wife died.”
Her expression softened.
He looked down.
“And now every time I see this cabin, I want to stay.”
For several seconds, she couldn't speak.
Then she whispered, “I want you to stay too.”
He looked at her.
The fire crackled between them.
Outside, the storm continued roaring through the mountains.
The rancher slowly lifted her hand and pressed his lips against her knuckles.
She closed her eyes.
Her breath caught.
It was a small gesture.
But to her, it felt more intimate than anything she'd experienced in years.
He looked up.
“May I ask you something?”
She nodded.
“Anything.”
“Have you been lonely?”
Her expression changed.
For a moment, she seemed ready to deny it.