Amily looked up.
His gray eyes met hers.
“No, ma'am. I don't reckon it would be terrible at all.”
Something fluttered inside her chest.
She looked away quickly, pretending to examine another torn sleeve.
Harlon remained beside the table, holding the mended shirt.
He had spent nearly nine years living alone in the mountains.
Nine years since his brother's death had transformed ordinary conversation into something he rarely sought.
Nine years of working, hunting, repairing fences, maintaining the spring, and telling himself that solitude was easier than caring about someone he might lose.
Now a woman he'd rescued from a blizzard was sitting beside his fireplace, mending his clothes and smiling as though the cabin belonged to a world where kindness was natural.
He found the feeling almost unbearable.
Outside, the storm continued sweeping snow across the valley.
Inside, Amily threaded another needle.
After several minutes, she spoke.
“Harlon?”
“Yes?”
“May I ask something rather foolish?”
He smiled.
“I doubt it.”
She glanced toward him.
“Have you ever been in love?”
His expression changed.
Amily immediately regretted the question.
“I'm sorry. That's none of my business.”
Harlon set the shirt down.
He pulled out the chair opposite her and sat.
For a long time, he studied the flames.
Then he answered.
“I thought I was once.”
Amily waited.
He rubbed his scarred hands together.
“When I was twenty-three, there was a woman in Silverpine. Pretty girl. Daughter of a merchant. We walked together for almost a year.”
Amily felt a small, unfamiliar ache.
“What happened?”
“She married somebody else.”
“Oh.”
Harlon smiled faintly.
“Man owned a fine store. Had money. Nice house. Never needed to worry whether winter would leave him enough firewood.”
Amily studied his face.
“Did she tell you she loved you?”
“Yes.”
“And did you believe her?”
“At the time.”
He looked toward the window.
“Later, I realized she loved the version of me she imagined I'd become.”
Amily frowned.
“What version?”
“A man with more money, cleaner hands, and ambitions that didn't involve living among the mountains.”
She watched him quietly.
Harlon continued.
“I wasn't angry that she wanted a different life. She had every right to choose one.”
He smiled sadly.
“But I wished she'd told me before I spent a year believing we wanted the same things.”