Clara softened.
“I am not selling anything tomorrow.”
His eyes lifted.
“Or this month.”
“Clara…”
“I am not promising never.”
He nodded.
“But I won’t hand land my father tried to protect to the same company he hid it from.”
Relief moved through Caleb’s face.
Clara noticed.
He noticed her noticing.
Neither spoke.
Finally she said:
“You looked frightened.”
“I was.”
“Mountain man admits fear.”
“Do not spread it.”
“I’m writing it in the ledger.”
He smiled.
Then she smiled.
The warmth returned.
Not the same.
Deeper.
That night, Clara could not sleep.
She lay in the small room Caleb had given her eleven weeks earlier.
The mattress creaked whenever she moved.
Wind touched the shutters.
Somewhere across the hall, Caleb was awake too.
She knew because the floorboard outside his room had not creaked.
He paced when unable to sleep.
She had learned his habits.
At midnight, Clara opened her door.
Caleb stood at the end of the hallway wearing trousers and nothing else.
He stopped.
She stopped.
For several seconds both simply looked.
Clara became acutely aware of herself.
Her hair loose.
Nightdress plain.
Her body enormous beneath it.
Caleb looked not shocked.
Not amused.
Only tired.
And something warmer.
“You awake?”
Clara raised an eyebrow.
“No.”
He smiled.
She walked toward the kitchen.
He followed.
Fire had burned low.
Caleb added wood.
Clara sat at the table.
He remained standing.
She looked up.
“You’re doing it.”
“What?”
“Keeping distance.”
His expression changed.
“I thought you might want it.”
“Do you?”
“No.”
“Then sit.”
He did.
Clara folded her hands.
“Does the land change how you see me?”
Caleb frowned.
“No.”
“Not even a little?”
“It changes what I know about you.”
“That is not the same question.”
He thought.
“No.”
She believed him.
“Does it change how you think I see you?”
“Yes.”
Clara looked down.
Caleb continued.
“You came here with nothing.”
“I offered work.”
“Shelter.”
“Food.”
“Now we know some of what I offered was already partly yours.”
The shame in his voice was unmistakable.
Clara reached across the table.
Placed her large hand over his.
“You did not know.”
“Still.”
“No.”
He looked at her.
“I will hold you responsible for your mistakes.”
“You have plenty.”
“Thank you.”
“But I will not invent new ones so you can suffer more efficiently.”
His mouth moved.
“Very generous.”
“I am known for mercy.”
“No one has ever said that.”
She squeezed his hand.