Harlan stepped forward.
Josephine’s arms crossed instinctively over her chest.
He stopped again.
“May I look?”
The question surprised her.
“At what?”
“The knot.”
Josephine hesitated.
Then nodded.
Harlan moved behind her.
His presence felt enormous.
Josephine could hear his breathing.
She could smell leather, pine smoke, cold air, and something distinctly masculine she could not name.
Her pulse quickened for reasons she did not entirely appreciate.
Harlan touched only the corset lacing.
He pulled once.
The knot did not move.
“Whoever tied this knew what they were doing.”
“My aunt considers discomfort character-building.”
“She sounds unbearable.”
Josephine smiled despite herself.
Then she heard leather shift.
A knife slid from its sheath.
Josephine froze.
The blade flashed near her shoulder.
“What are you doing?”
“Cutting it.”
The steel touched the cord at her back.
Josephine stopped breathing.
Harlan’s large hand steadied the corset itself, never touching her skin.
“Hold still.”
The knife moved.
Rrrrip.
One cord snapped.
Then another.
And another.
The pressure released suddenly.
Josephine gasped.
Air rushed into her lungs.
Real air.
Deep air.
Her knees nearly buckled from the relief.
The corset opened around her broad torso.
Harlan caught the garment before it fell.
Then he stepped away immediately.
Josephine pressed one hand against her chest and inhaled again.
She had not realized how much pain she had accepted until it disappeared.
Harlan put down the knife.
Then lifted a massive buffalo robe from the bed.
He approached slowly.
“May I?”
Josephine nodded.
He wrapped the robe around her shoulders.
It covered nearly all of her.
Warmth sank through the thin chemise.
Josephine clutched the fur beneath her chin.
Harlan looked at the ruined corset.
“What did they think this was supposed to accomplish?”
“Make me smaller.”
His gaze moved deliberately over her face.
“Did it?”
Josephine almost laughed.
“No.”
“Then it failed.”
He walked to the stove.
Opened the iron door.
And threw the corset into the fire.
Josephine’s mouth fell open.
“Harlan!”
Flames caught the fabric immediately.
Whalebone blackened.
Laces curled.
He closed the door.
Josephine stared.
“That was expensive.”
“It was trying to kill you.”
“That may be dramatic.”
“You were breathing like a dying mule.”
She looked offended.
“A mule?”
“A pretty mule.”
Silence.
Harlan closed his eyes.
“That came out wrong.”
Josephine laughed.
The sound surprised both of them.
Harlan looked almost relieved.
He poured broth into a tin mug and handed it to her.
“Sit.”
Josephine raised an eyebrow.
“That sounded like an order.”
“It was concern badly phrased.”
“Again?”
“Likely to happen often.”
She sat in the rocking chair.
Harlan placed another log into the stove.
For several minutes, Josephine drank broth in silence.
Her body slowly stopped shivering.
Harlan sat across from her and began cleaning his rifle.
The knife remained on the table.
Josephine kept glancing at it.
At him.