Miriam said nothing.
“I could not walk inside and announce myself as some kind of savior.”
“So you placed a marriage advertisement.”
“No.”
His answer came quickly.
“That notice already existed.”
She frowned.
“I’d posted it months earlier. Before I found the documents.”
That surprised her.
“I had lived alone ten years.”
Jonas looked toward the stove.
“I was tired of it.”
“So when my letter arrived…”
“I recognized the name.”
Miriam closed her eyes.
Of course.
“And you said nothing.”
“I told myself I would tell you in person.”
“But not in any of your fourteen letters.”
“No.”
“Not during the stagecoach ride.”
“No.”
“Not before the wedding.”
Jonas’s shame deepened.
“No.”
“Why?”
His hands trembled again.
“Because every mile you came west made telling you harder.”
Miriam almost laughed.
“That is the most cowardly thing you have said tonight.”
“I know.”
She shot him a furious look.
He stopped speaking.
For several minutes Miriam paced.
The cabin felt too small.
The locked door now seemed symbolic in a way she hated.
She crossed to it.
Jonas stiffened.
Miriam turned the key.
Unlocked it.
Then she looked back.
“I am not leaving.”
Something changed in his face.
Relief, perhaps.
She continued before he misunderstood.
“I am not leaving because there is a blizzard outside and I have nowhere else to go.”
Relief disappeared.
“Understood.”
“You will sleep by the stove.”
“Yes.”
“You will not touch me.”
“No.”
“You will answer every question I ask.”
“Yes.”
Miriam lifted Philip’s letter.
“And tomorrow you will show me exactly where those forty acres are.”
Jonas nodded.
“Yes.”
She went behind the canvas screen.
Her hands shook as badly as his had.
That night neither slept much.
Miriam lay beneath heavy quilts listening to Jonas turn on his pallet near the stove.
At one point the fire burned low.
He rose quietly.
Added wood.
Checked the chimney.
Returned to the floor.
He never approached the bed.
Near midnight Miriam whispered into the darkness, “Jonas.”
He answered immediately.
“Yes?”
“Was Philip afraid?”
Silence.
Then, “At the end?”
“Yes.”
Jonas took his time.
“He was afraid you would think he chose not to come home.”
Miriam stared at the ceiling.
“Did he suffer?”
“Not much at the end.”
“Did you stay with him?”
“Yes.”
“Was he alone at any point?”
“No.”
The tightness inside her chest loosened slightly.
“Thank you.”