Told terrible jokes.
But he learned.
Sometimes that was enough.
By March, Gideon could split small pieces of kindling.
Adelaide caught him attempting a larger log.
She walked outside.
He saw her and froze.
“Put it down.”
“I can—”
“Gideon.”
He lowered axe.
She approached.
“You are impossible.”
“Doctor said gradual.”
“That is not gradual.”
“It was one log.”
She folded arms.
He smiled.
“I am bored.”
“Read.”
“I hate reading.”
“Learn.”
He leaned against axe.
“You could kiss me.”
Adelaide froze.
Gideon immediately looked almost frightened.
Weeks had passed since the fever confession.
Neither had mentioned love again.
They had become gentler.
Closer.
But careful.
Adelaide stared.
“You are standing now.”
Gideon looked down.
“Apparently.”
“You said you’d ask when you could.”
His expression changed.
“I did.”
“You haven't.”
“I was waiting.”
“For?”
“You.”
“That is not asking.”
“Adelaide.”
“Yes?”
He looked directly into her eyes.
No fever.
No storm.
No imminent death.
“Did you mean it?”
Her heart accelerated.
“I still don't know what exactly love feels like.”
Gideon waited.
“But I know when you were sick, I wanted you alive more than I wanted anything.”
“When you laugh, I like the house better.”
“When you go outside too long, I become angry because I am worried.”
“When you irritate me, which is frequently, I still want you near.”
His mouth twitched.
Adelaide continued.
“And when I imagined spring coming and me leaving…”
She swallowed.
“I could not see where I would go that felt more like home.”
Gideon stopped breathing.
“That sounds close enough.”
Adelaide smiled.
“Do not rush me.”
“Never.”
She stepped closer.
He remained still.
“May I?”
he asked.
Adelaide’s eyes filled.
No one had ever asked her that with such seriousness.
“Yes.”
Gideon lifted one hand.
Touched her cheek.
His fingers were rough.
Warm.
He leaned slowly.
Adelaide met him halfway.
Their first kiss was not dramatic.
No thunder.
No wind.
No music.
It was almost painfully gentle.
Then Gideon started to pull away.
Adelaide caught the front of his shirt.
He looked surprised.
“That’s all?”
His eyes widened.
She kissed him again.
Harder.
Gideon laughed softly against her mouth.
Adelaide’s arms went around him as far as they could.
His did not circle her entire body.
That used to terrify her in imagination.
The idea that a man might try to hold her and fail to reach around.
Gideon did not seem to notice.
He simply held what he could.
Enough.
When they separated, Adelaide’s cheeks were red.