His expression changed.
She continued softly.
“I didn't say it because I felt sorry for you.”
He stood.
For a moment, neither moved.
Elena's voice trembled.
“I meant it.”
Gideon crossed the room slowly.
He stopped a respectful distance away.
Then looked into her eyes.
“I know.”
She swallowed.
“Do you?”
He nodded.
For several seconds, the only sound was rain against the windows.
Then he whispered, “You frighten me more than any mountain storm I've ever faced.”
Elena blinked.
“Me?”
He smiled sadly.
“Because I believe you.”
Her eyes filled.
She stepped closer.
Gideon lifted his hand.
Then stopped.
“May I kiss you?”
The question seemed to steal the air from her lungs.
She stared at him.
For most of her life, romantic attention had arrived with conditions.
Men suggested she should be grateful.
Or ashamed.
Or willing to accept whatever affection they offered.
Gideon simply asked.
Elena nodded.
“Yes.”
He leaned down.
She rose as comfortably as she could to meet him.
And their lips touched.
It was a brief kiss.
Gentle.
Almost hesitant.
But Elena felt something inside her change.
For the first time, a man had kissed her because he wanted to, while giving her the freedom to say no.
When Gideon drew back, his gray eyes were wet.
Elena laughed softly.
“What?”
He shook his head.
“Nothing.”
She smiled.
“You're staring again.”
He looked embarrassed.
“Sorry.”
“Don't be.”
She touched his scarred cheek.
Then whispered, “I rather like the way you look at me.”
Gideon smiled.
And for one extraordinary moment, the cabin seemed filled with something more powerful than grief.
A future.
Neither knew what that future would contain.
But for the first time, both wanted to find out.
They returned to Cedar Hollow the following afternoon.
The storm had left the lower road muddy and difficult, so Gideon brought his broadest covered wagon, with a sturdy bench and safe steps arranged for Elena's comfort.
He had modified the wagon years earlier to carry heavy grain sacks and equipment.
Now he checked every fastening twice.
Elena watched him from the porch.
“You know, I have traveled before.”
Gideon tightened a strap.
“I know.”
“In wagons.”
“I know.”
“Without having every buckle inspected like the fate of the territory depends upon it.”
He looked up.
She smiled.
He grinned.
“Then you've had careless drivers.”
Elena laughed.
He offered his hand.
She accepted.