“Less?”
Clara waved vaguely toward him.
He looked down at himself.
“Ah.”
Her face heated.
Thomas seemed delighted.
“You can stop enjoying this.”
“I can.”
He clearly would not.
“What did you imagine?”
She retaliated.
His confidence vanished.
Thomas looked toward the pie.
“Coffee first.”
“No.”
“Pie?”
“Thomas.”
He sighed.
“Brown hair.”
“You knew that.”
“Yes.”
“Kind eyes.”
Clara went quiet.
Thomas continued.
“I thought you would be…”
He searched.
“Warm.”
She frowned.
“What does a warm person look like?”
“You.”
That silenced her completely.
Thomas seemed surprised by his own courage.
He stood abruptly.
“Pie.”
Clara smiled into her cup.
“Yes.”
“Pie sounds wise.”
He cut two slices.
Then three quarters of the way through his first piece, Thomas closed his eyes.
Clara frowned.
“What?”
“This is better than the letters.”
She laughed.
“High praise.”
“I am serious.”
He pointed his fork at her.
“If I'd known you lived across the creek, I might have bought the ranch six months earlier.”
Clara’s smile softened.
“You cannot say things like that casually.”
“Why?”
“Because I might believe you.”
Thomas lowered the fork.
“Clara.”
Something in his voice changed.
“I have never written you anything I did not mean.”
She knew.
That was the problem.
Clara returned home before sunset.
Thomas walked with her to the bridge.
Neither mentioned whether the visit counted as anything more than neighborly hospitality.
At the center of the bridge, Clara stopped.
“Will you still write?”
Thomas looked surprised.
“You want me to?”
“I don't know.”
He leaned one forearm against the rail.
“I do.”
“But we live two minutes apart.”
“Three, if the bridge complains.”
“Thomas.”
He smiled.
Then became serious.
“The letters are how I learned to say things.”
Clara understood that.
“So we keep writing?”
“If you'll answer.”
She looked toward him.
“I usually do.”
“Usually?”
“You asked whether I believed a man could love twice.”
Thomas went still.
She remembered leaving that question unanswered.
He had written it three months earlier.
She had read the page until dawn and then responded only about weather.
Thomas’s voice lowered.
“You noticed.”
“I notice most things.”