“You should be.”
“I may be angry for a long time.”
“I understand.”
“And I do not know whether I can forgive you for starting our marriage with deception.”
Miles set down the harness.
“Evelyn.”
“Yes?”
“You don’t owe me forgiveness because I had good reasons.”
Her throat tightened.
He continued.
“You don’t owe me marriage either.”
“We can annul it.”
The words hurt unexpectedly.
She looked away.
Miles noticed.
“You want that?”
“I asked first.”
“I know.”
“Answer.”
His voice lowered.
“No.”
Her heart changed rhythm.
Miles looked directly at her.
“I don’t want an annulment.”
“But wanting you to stay and having the right to ask are different things.”
Evelyn said nothing.
Miles continued.
“I married you because it provided legal protection around the claim.”
“That was the plan.”
“But that stopped being the entire truth somewhere before the mine.”
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re very poor at romance.”
“I know.”
She almost smiled.
Miles rubbed a hand across his beard.
“Maybe when you threatened to push my wheelchair into the stream.”
Evelyn laughed.
Then caught herself.
“That inspired affection?”
“Fear creates strange attachments.”
She laughed again.
Miles smiled.
The tension softened.
Then he became serious.
“I would like you to stay.”
“Not because of the claim.”
“No.”
“Not because you need someone cooking?”
“No.”
“You cook terribly.”
“I know.”
“Not because the town expects us married.”
“I stopped caring what Alder Creek expects years ago.”
“Then why?”
Miles looked at her.
“Because I listen for your footsteps when you are in another room.”
Evelyn stopped breathing.
He continued, awkward now.
“Because every time you leave the cabin, it feels quieter than it should.”
“Because you argue with me.”
“Because you notice things.”
“Because you are brave when frightened, which I think is the only kind of bravery worth anything.”
Evelyn’s eyes filled.
Miles looked down.
“And because I have been trying for three weeks not to imagine kissing you.”
Silence.
Evelyn whispered:
“Three weeks?”
“Perhaps longer.”
“Terrible answer.”
“I warned you.”
She stood.
Walked toward him.
Miles rose too.
Now that she knew how tall he truly was, the height still startled her.
He did not touch her.
Waited.
Evelyn lifted one hand.
Rested it against his chest.
His heartbeat was faster than she expected.
“You are nervous.”
“Yes.”
“Interesting.”
“Cruel woman.”
She smiled faintly.
Then:
“If I stay, there are rules.”
“Name them.”
“No secrets about danger.”
“Yes.”
“No deciding what truth I can handle.”
“Yes.”
“No using protection as another word for control.”
Miles nodded.
“Yes.”
“If I ask for space, you give it.”
“Yes.”
“And if I decide someday that this marriage began too badly to survive…”
His face changed.
But he answered:
“I let you go.”
Evelyn studied him.
That answer mattered most.
She lifted her chin.
“One more.”
“What?”