Then she saw the chimney.
A thin ribbon of smoke rose into the storm.
Elias had banked the fire before leaving.
The structure was larger than she expected.
One wall was natural rock.
The others were built from thick timber and fitted stone.
An overhanging roof protected the entrance, and a small stable stood nearby, almost entirely sheltered beneath a granite ledge.
Elias led Copper inside the stable.
Then returned to help Clara dismount.
When her feet touched the ground, pain shot through her heels.
She stumbled.
Elias caught her immediately.
"Easy."
She gripped his shoulders.
"I can walk."
"I know."
He waited.
She took another step.
Her knees buckled.
Before she could fall, he lifted her into his arms.
Clara gasped.
"Mr. Roarke!"
He looked down at her.
"Yes?"
"Put me down."
"Your feet won't hold you."
"I am perfectly capable ofβ"
"Clara."
Something in his voice stopped her.
Not anger.
Not command.
Concern.
He glanced toward the snow piling along the stable entrance.
"Let me get you inside before you freeze."
She stared at him.
Then, reluctantly, nodded.
"Very well."
He carried her toward the shelter.
His arms were astonishingly steady.
Clara became acutely aware of the warmth of his chest beneath his shirt and the firm pressure of his hand supporting her back.
She had never been carried by Nathaniel.
Not once.
Even on their wedding day, when she joked that tradition required him to carry her across the threshold, he had laughed and said he wasn't inclined to ruin his back for a silly custom.
Now a man she had known less than two hours carried her through a snowstorm without a word of complaint.
The contrast hurt more than she wanted to admit.
Elias pushed the shelter door open with his shoulder.
Warm air rushed outward.
He stepped inside.
And Clara saw his home.
A broad stone fireplace occupied one wall.
A sturdy wooden table stood beneath a window overlooking the frozen valley.
Shelves held jars, tools, books, and neatly folded blankets.
A kettle simmered over the stove.
A thick bearskin rug covered part of the floor.
And near the hearth stood an enormous wooden chair with a carved back.
Everything was clean.
Ordered.
Useful.
Not luxurious.
But unmistakably cared for.
Elias carried her toward the bed in the far corner.
It was covered with heavy quilts.
He lowered her carefully onto the mattress.
"Stay there."
Clara looked around.