Judson noticed.
“You're faster than me.”
“My mother taught me.”
“Good woman?”
“The best.”
He looked at her.
“She large too?”
Josie stopped cutting.
“Yes.”
“How large?”
“Almost me.”
Judson nodded.
Nothing else.
That startled her.
“You’re not going to say something?”
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then probably not.”
Josie returned to the meat.
After a while:
“People laughed at her.”
Judson’s knife slowed.
“She laughed louder.”
Josie smiled.
“Until she got sick.”
“What happened?”
“Cholera.”
Judson stopped.
“I’m sorry.”
“I hate that.”
“So do I.”
They worked.
After several minutes Judson said:
“My brother died of it.”
Josie looked up.
“I didn't know you had a brother.”
“You know almost nothing about me.”
“That’s intentional.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Judson cut another strip.
“People use information.”
“So you hide.”
“Yes.”
“Seems lonely.”
His eyes met hers.
“It was.”
The past tense sat between them.
Josie looked down.
Her fingers suddenly felt clumsy.
Christmas approached.
There would be no church.
No town.
No gifts.
Josie told herself she preferred it.
Judson disappeared into the workshop for two evenings.
She assumed repairs.
On Christmas morning, she found a box beside her chair.
Not wrapped.
Judson apparently lacked the concept.
Inside were leather boots.
Women's.
Wide.
Strong.
Lined with wool.
Josie stared.
“These are mine?”
“No.”
She looked up.
Judson remained entirely serious.
“I keep women’s boots around for decoration.”
She rolled her eyes.
Then held them.
“They're beautiful.”
“Try.”
They fit.
Perfectly.
Josie looked at him.
“How did you know?”
“Measured the twine shoes.”
“You stole my shoes?”
“Borrowed while you slept.”
“That is horrifying.”
“Useful.”
She looked at the boots.
Then the stitching.
Handmade.
“You made these.”
“Mostly.”
Her eyes filled.
Judson immediately looked uncomfortable.
“Don't cry.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I hate you.”
“Good.”
She stood.
Then hugged him.
It happened before either expected.
Her arms around his middle.
Her face against his chest.
Judson froze.
Completely.
Josie realized what she had done.
Started pulling away.
Then his arms closed around her.
Slowly.
Carefully.
He held her.
No joke.
No hunger.
No hesitation once he chose it.
Josie’s breath caught.
She had been hugged before.
Her mother.
Her brothers.
Years ago.