Clara watched him kneel beside her.
She was accustomed to men admiring her beauty.
Nathaniel had admired her beauty constantly, provided she used it for his benefit.
But she was not accustomed to a man caring more about the condition of her wounded feet than the way her dress fit across her waist.
The difference unsettled her.
Elias cleaned the blisters as carefully as he could.
When Clara winced, he stopped.
When she said she could bear it, he continued.
He never touched her unnecessarily.
Never joked about her distress.
Never used the intimacy of tending her injuries as an excuse to claim familiarity.
By the time he finished, Clara was struggling against tears.
Elias looked up.
"That bad?"
She shook her head.
"No."
"Then what is it?"
She swallowed.
"You're being kind to me."
He frowned slightly.
"As opposed to what?"
Clara looked away.
"Never mind."
He studied her for a moment.
Then quietly said, "Kindness oughtn't be such a surprise."
Something in her chest tightened.
She did not trust herself to answer.
They left the hunting lodge shortly afterward.
Elias wrapped Clara in an enormous wool blanket beneath her burgundy shawl, then helped her into a heavy fur-lined coat that reached almost to her ankles.
It smelled faintly of pine smoke, leather, and winter air.
His own coat was thinner.
She protested.
He ignored the protest.
Outside, the storm struck them like a wall.
The wind screamed through the pines, carrying fine snow that stung exposed skin.
Clara could see barely ten feet ahead.
Elias led an enormous dark horse toward the lodge steps.
The animal stood patiently despite the weather.
"That's Copper," he said.
Clara stared at the horse.
"He's enormous."
"Doesn't know it."
Elias checked the saddle, tightened a strap, then turned toward her.
"You'll ride."
"What about you?"
"I'll walk."
"In this storm?"
"Been walking in storms since before I learned to shave."
Clara looked toward the distant trees.
"You can't possibly mean to walk the whole way."
He regarded her calmly.
"Would you rather I carry you?"
Heat rose into her cheeks.
"That is not what I meant."
"Then get on the horse."
She looked at the saddle.
The stirrup seemed impossibly high.
Elias noticed.
He stepped closer.
"May I lift you?"
Clara hesitated.
Then nodded.
His hands settled securely at her waist.
In one smooth movement, he lifted her onto the horse.
Clara caught her breath.