More man.
She discovered his reputation had been assembled from partial truths.
Yes, he had broken a man’s jaw outside the mercantile.
The man had struck a woman first.
Yes, he had once disappeared for eleven days in the snow.
He had been searching for a missing child.
He found him alive.
Yes, he rarely went to church.
Because Reverend Pike had lied to Sarah during a property dispute and Caleb did not trust him.
Elena approved of that last part more each day.
On the fourth night, Caleb came inside with blood running across his palm.
He tried hiding it.
Elena saw.
“Sit.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Sit.”
He stared.
“That sounded like an order.”
“It was.”
“You said no orders.”
“I said you don’t get to order me.”
Caleb sat.
She cleaned the cut.
His hand was huge and rough.
Her own hand was large too, though softer.
For years people had treated her hands as another part of her that should somehow be smaller.
Caleb watched her tie cloth around his palm.
“You’re gentle.”
She stopped.
“So?”
His eyes lowered.
“People speak as if size and gentleness cannot live together.”
Elena’s jaw tightened.
“People speak because silence frightens them.”
“That may be true.”
She finished knot.
“Done.”
Caleb did not withdraw immediately.
Neither did Elena.
The cabin suddenly seemed too warm.
She felt his thumb move slightly against her fingers.
Then Caleb pulled his hand back first.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
That night Elena lay awake longer than she wanted to admit.
On the fifth day, she found the chair beside the hearth reinforced.
New braces beneath the seat.
She stared.
Caleb entered with wood.
“What did you do?”
“To what?”
“The chair.”
He looked.
“Fixed it.”
“It wasn’t broken.”
“It cracked yesterday.”
Elena’s stomach tightened.
“I broke it.”
Caleb set wood down.
“No.”
“It cracked under me.”
“The joint was weak.”
“It held you.”
“I weigh less.”
“There.”
“What?”
“That face.”
Elena crossed arms.
“What face?”
“The one people make before blaming themselves for badly built furniture.”
Her anger disappeared so abruptly it left embarrassment.
Caleb crouched and touched brace.
“Wood does not know morality, Elena.”
She blinked.
“What?”
“If a chair fails, the chair failed.”
“It is not accusing you.”
For several seconds she could not speak.
Then she laughed.
Caleb looked confused.
“What?”
“That may be the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.”
His entire face changed.
Elena realized what she had said.
Silence.
Then Caleb cleared his throat.
“Low standard.”
“Extremely.”
He picked up wood too quickly.
His ears were red beneath his hair.
Elena smiled for the rest of the afternoon.
The eighth morning came bright and brutally cold.
The storm broke.
Caleb hitched the sleigh.
Elena stood on the porch wearing the blue dress beneath a heavy coat.
“Where do you want to go?”
he asked.
Elena looked down the trail toward town.
Then west.
“White Pine Basin.”
Caleb studied sky.
“The lower road may be deep.”
“Can we reach it?”