“Not her comment.”
“She said it beside me.”
The mountain man’s jaw tightened.
“She should not have.”
The woman almost smiled.
“You don’t know my aunt.”
“I don’t need to.”
That actually made her laugh.
A small sound.
The first uncomplicated one of the night.
The mountain man looked startled by it.
She noticed.
“You like when I laugh.”
He looked embarrassed.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He glanced toward the fire as if hoping flames might answer.
“When I was fourteen, behind that stable…”
She waited.
“You laughed after I said I wasn’t a thief yet.”
“I remember.”
“I hadn’t heard anyone laugh because of something I said in a long time.”
Her expression softened.
He continued:
“I remembered the sound.”
“You remembered my laugh for eighteen years?”
He looked almost annoyed.
“It wasn’t intentional.”
She laughed again.
This time he smiled.
There.
Something inside her loosened.
The woman walked slowly toward him.
He remained completely still.
She stopped close enough to see individual gray flecks in his beard.
“You said you had never been with a woman.”
“Yes.”
“And that’s true?”
“Yes.”
“Not another thing you’re hiding because you think the truth would embarrass me?”
His brows drew together.
“No.”
“Good.”
She studied him.
Then touched the fur along the collar of his coat.
The mountain man’s entire body seemed to stop breathing.
Her fingers moved upward.
Into his beard.
He looked terrified.
That almost made her laugh again.
“You faced wolves?”
“Yes.”
“Alone?”
“Sometimes.”
“Bears?”
“Once.”
“Blizzards?”
“Too many.”
She tilted her head.
“And this frightens you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He looked directly into her eyes.
“Because a wolf can’t tell me I’ve broken its trust.”
Her teasing disappeared.
The answer landed somewhere tender.
She lowered her hand.
He looked worried that he had said the wrong thing.
Then she took his enormous hand between both of hers.
“I’m frightened too.”
His expression changed.
“I know.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“You know I was frightened of you.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
She looked toward the bed.
Then the blanket beside the hearth.
“I’m frightened that if you continue being kind, I’ll eventually believe you.”
He said nothing.
Her voice trembled.
“And if I believe you…”
She swallowed.
“…you’ll be able to hurt me in ways my first husband never could.”
The mountain man looked as if he understood perfectly.
That frightened her even more.
He slowly lowered himself until he was kneeling in front of her.
Not because she asked.
Because standing made him tower over her.
His hands rested on his thighs.