“What do you want?”
Jasper looked at her for several seconds.
“You know.”
“I want you to say it.”
His gaze deepened.
“I want you beside me.”
Ellie’s pulse quickened.
“All night?”
“Yes.”
She shifted closer.
“And what if I want more than sleeping?”
Jasper inhaled slowly.
“Then tell me.”
Ellie placed her hand against his chest.
“I’m telling you.”
He remained still.
“Ellie.”
“Yes?”
“Certain?”
She smiled.
“There he is.”
“Who?”
“The irritating man who asks twice.”
“I can ask three times.”
She touched his lips.
“Don’t.”
He kissed her fingers.
Ellie’s face softened.
“If I say stop?”
“I stop.”
“If I say slower?”
“Slower.”
“If I decide I only want you to hold me?”
“Then I hold you.”
Ellie’s eyes burned unexpectedly.
Jasper noticed.
“You all right?”
“Yes.”
She laughed softly.
“That question may be why I’m here.”
He kissed her.
The rest of the evening belonged to them.
Not to Copper Falls.
Not to gossip.
Not to the people who had spent years evaluating Ellie's body as though it were a problem requiring public debate.
Not to Jasper’s reputation.
Not to gratitude.
Not to debt.
The bedroom door closed.
What happened inside remained private.
What mattered was simpler.
Nothing happened without choice.
And when morning came, Ellie woke beside a man who did not look disappointed.
He looked astonished.
As though the world had handed him something far better than he deserved.
Ellie opened one eye.
“Stop staring.”
“I can’t.”
“Try.”
“No.”
She smiled into the pillow.
Jasper touched one curl near her cheek.
“You’re beautiful.”
The old instinct came quickly.
Deflect.
Joke.
Reject the compliment before it could become a weapon.
Instead Ellie forced herself to remain still.
“Thank you.”
Two words.
They were harder than riding through the blizzard.
Jasper understood.
His expression softened.
Ellie touched his beard.
“You’re not terrible yourself.”
“High praise.”
“Don’t become arrogant.”
“Too late.”
She laughed.
Ellie did not move permanently to the mountain.
That surprised Jasper.
It surprised the town even more.
She kept Copper Falls.
She kept her work.
She spent four or five days each week at the infirmary.
Then rode north whenever possible.
Sometimes Jasper came down.
The first time he entered the renovated clinic, the entire waiting room went silent.
He had not been seen in town since the bear attack.
Sheriff Mercer happened to be there.
Their eyes met.
Mercer looked away first.
Ellie noticed.
Jasper did too.
He smiled.
Ellie elbowed him.
“Behave.”
“I did nothing.”
“You enjoyed it.”
“Immensely.”
Mercer eventually lost reelection.
Not because Ellie campaigned against him.
She refused.
But clinic financial records became public.
Residents learned exactly how close they had come to losing treatment space so their sheriff could have better furniture.
A rancher named Thomas Bell defeated him.
Mercer left town the following year.
Doctor Morrison gradually became reliable.
It shocked everyone.
Including himself.
Ellie once asked why he changed.
He looked embarrassed.
“Because you started expecting it.”
That answer stayed with her.
Expectations mattered.
Not expectations about bodies.
About behavior.