For the first time since thirteen, Caleb left a medical examination feeling more human than when he entered.
They stayed in Denver one additional day.
Caleb wanted to see everything.
Then pretended he did not.
Eleanor dragged him into a bookstore.
He spent two hours inside.
Purchased seven books.
Complained about prices.
Then purchased another.
They ate dinner in a crowded room.
Nobody stared at his scar because his shirt remained buttoned.
Nobody stared at Eleanor longer than people normally looked at strangers.
She ate dessert.
Entirely.
Without waiting for Henry's ghost.
Caleb ordered a second slice.
“For you?”
Eleanor asked.
“For me.”
She smiled.
Progress for both.
On their journey home, they stopped beside a river.
Caleb removed his shirt to wash.
Then froze.
Two riders approached along the opposite bank.
His instinct was immediate.
Cover.
Hide.
Eleanor said nothing.
Caleb reached for his shirt.
Stopped.
The riders waved.
One shouted:
“Afternoon!”
Caleb stared.
Then raised one hand.
“Afternoon!”
They rode on.
No spectacle.
No horror.
No cage.
Caleb stood shirtless beside the river, scar visible under the open sky.
Eleanor watched.
He began laughing.
Not because anything funny happened.
Because nothing happened.
Sometimes freedom was an uneventful afternoon.
They returned to the mountain.
Caleb did not abandon the cabin.
That surprised people who expected healing to require leaving everything behind.
He loved the mountains.
The problem had never been the trees.
The problem had been believing he was forbidden to leave them.
Now the cabin had a door.
That changed everything.
They began visiting the settlement every month.
Then every two weeks during summer.
Caleb traded.
Eleanor joined a church sewing circle despite being terrible at sewing.
The other women taught her.
One woman asked whether Eleanor’s husband was truly as strange as rumors claimed.
Eleanor smiled.
“Yes.”
The woman leaned closer.
“How?”
“He alphabetizes traps.”
Not the answer expected.
Rumors continued anyway.
Eventually someone learned about the scar.
A hunter had seen Caleb bathing in a creek.
By the following week, people whispered.
Caleb heard.
Old terror returned.
One evening he began packing supplies.
Eleanor found him.
“What are you doing?”
“Winter stock.”
“In July?”
Caleb stopped.
She understood.
“No.”
“They know.”
“Somebody knows.”
“Same thing.”
“No.”
“They’ll talk.”
“Likely.”
“People will come.”
“Maybe.”
“We should go farther north.”
Eleanor stared.
“Absolutely not.”
“Eleanor.”
She walked to the trunk.
Closed it.
Caleb reopened it.
She sat on the lid.
He stared.
She folded her arms.
“We are not moving.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I understand perfectly.”
“No.”
“Men offered money for me.”
“People wanted to see me.”
“They could again.”
“And you can say no.”
“What if no isn't enough?”