He swallowed.
“I cannot promise I’ll always understand you.”
“I already know I won’t.”
A few people laughed softly.
“I cannot promise I won’t make mistakes.”
“I will.”
“I can promise that when I want something from you, I will ask.”
“When I’m afraid, I will try to tell you before fear turns into control.”
“And if you ever tell me no…”
His voice broke.
“I will remember that no is not the opposite of love.”
The young woman could no longer see clearly.
She wiped her eyes.
“Now mine sounds terrible.”
He smiled.
“Good.”
Her vow was shorter.
“When I came to the mountain, I thought staying meant I had failed to escape.”
She looked toward the cabin.
“Then I learned staying can be a choice too.”
She returned her eyes to him.
“I choose you today.”
“I expect to choose you tomorrow.”
“But I will not promise tomorrow on behalf of the woman I will become twenty years from now.”
Several people looked surprised.
The mountain man did not.
He smiled.
She continued.
“So I promise something else.”
“I will keep telling you the truth so she can choose too.”
His eyes closed briefly.
When he opened them, he whispered:
“That’s better than mine.”
“Yes.”
The officiant pronounced them married.
Again.
The mountain man waited.
The young woman stared.
“Well?”
His face flushed.
“May I kiss you?”
She smiled.
“Yes.”
He did.
Mrs. Vale eventually cleared her throat loudly enough to embarrass both of them.
Afterward, they ate beneath the trees.
There was venison.
Potatoes.
Bread.
Berry pie.
The bride ate two slices.
No one commented.
The mountain man ate three.
She commented extensively.
That night, they returned to the cabin.
He stopped just inside the door.
His gaze drifted toward the log wall where she had once pressed herself in terror.
She followed his eyes.
For a moment the memory stood between them.
The frightened bride.
The towering stranger.
The corset.
The trunk.
Then she crossed the room.
She took his large hand.
Placed it against her waist.
His fingers remained still.
She could feel the restraint in him even after months.
“Do you know what I remember most?”
she asked.
“The dress?”
“No.”
“My fear?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“The moment you stepped backward.”
He looked at her.
“You said please.”
“Yes.”
“You looked terrified.”
“You stopped.”
“Of course.”
She smiled sadly.
“It didn’t feel like ‘of course’ to me then.”
He understood.
She continued.