He smiled faintly.
"You were barely breathing."
"I know."
Her eyes filled.
"But I think part of me had been holding my breath long before I reached your cabin."
He took her hand.
She continued.
"My father made me afraid to take up space."
She looked toward the warm room.
"My aunt made me afraid to be seen."
Then she looked directly into his eyes.
"And you taught me that I could exist without apology."
The mountain man's eyes filled.
He shook his head.
"No, sweetheart."
She frowned.
He leaned closer.
"You learned that yourself."
She smiled.
"Perhaps."
He kissed her forehead.
"I just happened to be there when you started."
For several minutes, they sat quietly.
Then she spoke again.
"Do you ever regret it?"
He looked surprised.
"What?"
"Helping me."
His expression became almost offended.
"Regret?"
She smiled.
"You could have lived a peaceful life alone."
He laughed deeply.
"Peaceful?"
She nodded toward the mountains.
"Quiet, at least."
He shook his head.
"Lonely."
She studied him.
He looked toward the fire.
"Before you came here, I thought I was finished with wanting anything."
His voice softened.
"I had the cabin. The horses. The mountains."
He turned toward her.
"But I didn't have a reason to hurry home."
Her eyes filled.
He smiled.
"Then you arrived, soaked to the bone and frightened of your own shadow."
She laughed softly.
"And I started worrying about whether you'd eaten."
He continued.
"Whether you were warm."
"Whether I could breathe?"
His smile faded gently.
"Especially that."
He took her hand.
"And somewhere along the way, the cabin stopped being a place I survived in."
She leaned closer.
"It became home."
He nodded.
"Yes."
They sat together.
The fire burned low.
Snow gathered outside.
Then the woman smiled mischievously.
"Would you still have helped me if you'd known how much trouble I'd cause?"
He laughed.
"What trouble?"
She raised an eyebrow.
"The new kitchen."
"Needed it."
"The training house."
"Best idea you ever had."
"The garden."
"Beautiful."
"The orchard."
"Excellent apples."
"The accounts."
He grinned.
"Necessary."
She laughed.
"And all the people I've invited into our lives?"
He looked toward the distant sounds of laughter from the lodge.
Then back at her.
"Every one of them."
Her eyes filled.
He leaned forward.
"I'd do it all again."
She smiled through tears.
"Even the corset?"
He looked toward the fragment in her hand.
Then nodded.
"Especially that."
She laughed.
And he kissed her.
Outside, the mountain storm grew stronger.
Wind swept along the cabin roof.
Snow struck the windows.