“I was wrong.”
Josephine stared.
“I thought I could get you here, give you the deed, and let you decide what happened next.”
“You could have told me before the wedding.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because Pike controlled the mail route near your father’s property, and Edwin threatened to put you under guardianship if you resisted.”
Josephine looked at the letter again.
Harlan continued.
“I believed getting you physically beyond their reach was safer.”
“You decided that.”
“Yes.”
“For me.”
“Yes.”
Her voice sharpened.
“You do that often?”
“No.”
“You seem skilled.”
A hint of shame crossed his face.
“I deserve that.”
Josephine turned away.
The storm roared outside.
She wanted to hate him.
Part of her did.
But another part kept remembering the knife cutting the corset.
The buffalo robe.
The way Harlan had asked permission before placing it around her.
The way he had turned his head when the fabric slipped.
He had made decisions for her.
But he had not confused those decisions with ownership.
The distinction mattered.
It did not erase the problem.
But it mattered.
Josephine sat again.
“What happens if those other papers transferred the land?”
“We contest them.”
“We?”
Harlan corrected himself.
“You contest them. If you want my help, I help.”
“And if I want to leave?”
“I take you anywhere you choose when the pass opens.”
“My father’s house?”
His expression suggested he hated the idea.
“If that’s where you want.”
“You would let me go back?”
“Yes.”
“Even after paying twenty dollars and two horses?”
Harlan almost smiled.
“I miss the horses more than the money.”
Josephine stared.
Then unexpectedly laughed.
Harlan’s face softened.
The laugh disappeared.
“You really would let me go?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re not mine.”
The words hit somewhere deep.
Josephine looked at him.
“Aren’t I your wife?”
Harlan’s expression became complicated.
“On paper.”
“And in here?”
She gestured between them.
Harlan’s pale eyes held hers.
“You’re a woman who arrived six hours ago half frozen and unable to breathe.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It’s the only answer I should give tonight.”
Heat rose beneath her skin.
Josephine pulled the robe tighter.
“You’re very careful.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Harlan glanced toward the burnt corset.
“Because too many people have already decided what your body means they’re entitled to.”
Josephine stopped breathing for an entirely different reason.
He stood.
“Bed’s yours.”
“And you?”
“Chair.”
“There’s only one bed?”
“Yes.”
“You bought a bride and forgot furniture?”
His beard moved with the beginnings of a smile.
“I didn’t expect to use the same bed unless invited.”
Josephine looked toward it.
Wide enough for two.
Possibly three.
She swallowed.
“Harlan.”
“Yes?”
“If I invited you?”
His eyes returned to hers.
The cabin seemed suddenly smaller.
Josephine felt bold only because fear and anger had exhausted every safer emotion.
“If I told you I wanted those hands on me because I was asking for them, not because of money or papers or anything else?”
Harlan’s breathing changed.
He came closer.
Slowly.
He stopped one pace away.
“You should ask again after you’re warm, rested, and no longer learning that everyone you trusted lied to you.”
Josephine stared at his mouth.