Outside storm swallowed him.
The first followed.
They abandoned pistol.
Silas shut door.
Barred it.
Clara stared.
“You let them go.”
“Yes.”
“They’ll come back.”
“Not tonight.”
“How know?”
“They lost horses.”
Clara blinked.
“What?”
“I cut reins before they entered.”
She stared.
“When?”
“When they were yelling.”
Despite everything, Clara laughed.
Silas looked at her.
She laughed harder.
It became hysterical.
He approached cautiously.
“Clara?”
“I am wearing my dead mother’s shirt.”
She laughed through tears.
“I own four thousand acres I didn't know existed.”
“My trustee tried kidnapping me.”
“I threw a fireplace poker at a man.”
Silas’s mouth twitched.
“And you cut horse reins.”
“Yes.”
She looked at him.
Then laughter stopped.
Silas was close.
Not touching.
Clara felt every vulnerability return.
Her thin underthings were drying below.
She wore only the oversized flannel and blanket.
Her hair loose.
Face swollen from crying.
She was aware of her body in a way she had spent years trying not to be.
Silas said softly:
“You should sleep.”
Clara looked toward only bed.
Then at him.
“I’ll sleep by fire.”
She stared.
“Of course you will.”
He frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“It means every man who has ever wanted something from me has found a reason to stand too close.”
“You keep finding reasons to stand farther away.”
Silas’s face softened.
“Does that bother you?”
Clara opened mouth.
Closed.
Nobody had asked.
She swallowed.
“I don’t know.”
Silas nodded.
“Then distance is safer.”
Something in her chest ached.
She looked down.
“I’m not accustomed to being wanted.”
Silas went still.
Clara wished instantly she could pull words back.
But she had promised truth.
Maybe only from him.
Still.
She continued:
“I was engaged once.”
Silas said nothing.
“He told everyone marrying me was sacrifice.”
“Then he borrowed money from my father.”
“When Father refused more, my fiancé discovered sacrifice had limits.”
Silas’s jaw tightened.
“His loss.”
Clara laughed without humor.
“That is what kind people say.”
“I am not saying it to be kind.”
She looked up.
Silas held gaze.
Clara’s breathing changed.
He continued:
“You think I have not looked at you.”
“You have.”
“I have tried not to make you feel watched.”
“That's different.”
Clara said nothing.
Silas’s voice lowered.
“You are beautiful.”
She flinched.
Not because insult.
Because impossible.
Silas noticed.
“I won't repeat if it hurts.”
“It doesn't hurt.”