“Different nails.”
She raised eyebrow.
“What kind?”
Caleb looked around desperately.
“Stable nails.”
“Those are just nails.”
He sighed.
“I wanted to see you.”
Marta’s heart betrayed her.
“Better.”
He smiled faintly.
The town noticed.
Of course.
Mrs. Palmer asked Marta whether Caleb was “courting.”
Marta replied:
“He buys nails.”
By evening everyone knew mountain man intended marriage.
Caleb heard from Travis.
He came stable next day irritated.
Marta saw.
“What?”
“Town says we're engaged.”
She looked serious.
“Are we?”
Caleb nearly walked into stall door.
Marta laughed.
He pointed at her.
“You enjoy this too much.”
“Maybe.”
He stepped closer.
“Would you say no?”
Her smile faded.
“Today?”
“Yes.”
She thought.
“Today I’d say not yet.”
Caleb nodded.
No disappointment disguised as anger.
No persuasion.
Just:
“Fair.”
That answer moved her more than any proposal could have.
Spring edged toward winter early in high country.
Caleb needed return before pass closed.
He had planned departure for one week.
Marta hated knowing.
Did not admit.
The evening before, they stood outside stable.
Red Creek quiet.
He said:
“Come up after snowmelt.”
“To cabin?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“See place.”
“Only?”
Caleb’s eyes darkened slightly.
Marta felt heat rise.
He answered:
“If you want only.”
She stepped closer.
“Still remembering manners?”
“Always.”
Marta touched his vest slowly.
“Keep staring at me like that, Caleb…”
His breath changed.
“…and I might start wondering what happens if stable door locks.”
His voice dropped.
“I’d still wait until you told me exactly how close you wanted me.”
Marta’s fingers curled lightly into fabric.
“Then stop being so careful.”
Caleb’s eyes held hers.
“Careful is not same as uninterested.”
“Good.”
She moved closer.
“Tonight I might want mountain man.”
“Not gentleman.”
His mouth twitched.
“Say word.”
“And?”
“I’ll spend all night proving I can be both.”
Marta’s heart hammered.
She looked toward stable door.
Then back at him.
“Caleb.”
“Yes?”
“Kiss me.”
He did.
Slowly.
One hand came to her waist.
The other remained at his side until Marta pulled it around her.
The kiss deepened because she chose it.
Because he followed.
Not took.
When they separated, Marta’s forehead rested against his chest.
“Was that mountain man?”
“Half.”
She smiled.
“Show-off.”
He laughed.
Nothing more happened that night.
Not because desire was missing.
Because Caleb had to leave before dawn and Marta had spent too much of life letting urgency make decisions.
She told him:
“Come back spring.”
Caleb nodded.
“I will.”
“And if you don't?”
“Then mountain killed me.”
“That isn’t romantic.”
“Honest.”
“Try again.”
He thought.
“If I’m alive, I come back.”
Better.
He left.
Winter came hard.
Red Creek buried under snow by November.
Marta ran stable alone but not unpaid anymore.