It showed the mountain pass, Briar Hollow, several nearby settlements, and the principal roads leading toward larger towns.
"When the weather clears, I can take you to a place with work."
She looked down.
"What kind of work?"
"There's a widow in town who runs a boardinghouse. She needs someone who can cook and manage accounts."
The young woman looked up.
"You've already thought about this?"
He nodded.
"Didn't want you feeling trapped here."
Her chest tightened.
He continued.
"There's also a family in the valley who need a schoolteacher, though I don't know whether that's what you'd want."
She stared.
No one had ever asked what kind of work she wanted.
Her father simply assigned tasks.
Neighbors assumed she would marry.
The men at the trading post treated her as a problem to be transferred.
And now a rugged mountain man was sitting across from her discussing employment opportunities as though she possessed a future worth planning.
She looked toward the map.
"What if I wanted to stay here?"
He became still.
She raised her eyes.
"Not because I owe you anything."
He waited.
"Because I like it."
The mountain man looked toward the window.
The snow was still falling.
"You've only been here one night."
"I know."
"You don't know what this place is like after three weeks of storms."
"I know."
"You don't know me very well."
She smiled.
"That part is true."
He looked back.
She leaned forward.
"But I'd like to."
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then he nodded.
"Then stay long enough to decide."
Her smile grew.
"Really?"
"Really."
She reached across the table and took his hand.
"Thank you."
He squeezed her fingers.
"One condition."
Her expression changed.
"What?"
He smiled.
"You stop thanking me for every ordinary thing."
She laughed.
"I'll try."
Over the next three days, they settled into a rhythm neither had expected.
The mountain man worked outside whenever the weather permitted.
He cleared snow, tended the animals, repaired equipment, and checked traps along the lower ridge.
The young woman baked bread, reorganized the pantry, and helped prepare meals.
He never assigned her duties.
When she asked how she could contribute, they discussed the work together.
Sometimes she accompanied him to the stable.
Sometimes he remained inside while she read beside the fire.
In the evenings, they shared stories.
He told her about storms that had buried entire wagon trails.
About crossing frozen rivers.
About rescuing lost travelers.
About the terrible winter when his first cabin burned and he had to survive for three nights in a snow shelter.
She told him about growing up on the ranch.
About her mother's garden.