"You didn't have to earn the right to leave a man you didn't want to marry."
Her lips trembled.
He continued.
"You didn't need to expose anybody to deserve a life of your own."
For several seconds, she couldn't speak.
Then she leaned against him.
He wrapped one arm around her shoulders.
Outside, snow began drifting past the window.
Inside, they sat quietly beside the fire.
And for the first time since their wedding, Eleanor began to believe that her past might become something more than a shadow following her across the country.
It might become the reason another woman regained her freedom.
Winter settled over Boone Ranch like a second roof.
The first heavy snowfall arrived before December.
By the middle of the month, the distant hills disappeared beneath white drifts, the creek ran dark between shelves of ice, and the ranch hands began judging the weather by the sound of the wind against the barn walls.
Eleanor had never experienced a Wyoming winter.
Boston winters could be severe, but there were heated houses, busy streets, and neighbors close enough to summon within minutes.
At Boone Ranch, a storm could leave the house isolated for days.
Sometimes longer.
The first time snow rose high enough to cover the lower porch step, Eleanor stood by the window looking astonished.
Silas entered carrying firewood.
He followed her gaze.
"Something wrong?"
She turned.
"The world has disappeared."
He smiled.
"Usually comes back in spring."
She looked offended.
"Usually?"
He laughed.
"Depends on how stubborn the winter feels."
She shook her head.
"You're enjoying frightening me."
"A little."
Eleanor crossed her arms.
Silas placed the firewood beside the stove.
Then approached.
For a moment, he stood behind her, looking across the white fields.
She could feel his warmth.
The familiar scent of leather, clean soap, and winter air surrounded him.
He rested one broad hand gently against her shoulder.
"Beautiful, though."
Eleanor leaned slightly toward him.
"Yes."
He looked down.
For several seconds, neither moved.
Then he cleared his throat.
"I should check the stock."
She turned.
"Must you?"
He looked surprised.
"The cattle don't stop eating because the weather's pretty."
Eleanor smiled.
"I know."
For a moment, her hand rested against his coat.
He glanced toward it.
Then looked into her eyes.
Something unspoken passed between them.
They'd been married for nearly a month, but their affection still moved cautiously.
Silas rarely took more than Eleanor offered.
Eleanor remained aware that gratitude and love were not the same thing.
She liked him.
More than liked him.
Yet she wanted whatever grew between them to be real, not simply relief after escaping Boston.