Impossible to resist.
Some believed Eleanor trapped him.
Others believed Caleb bought her.
One older woman said loudly near the general store:
“A man living alone that long will take what he can get.”
Eleanor kept walking.
Caleb stopped.
She pulled his arm.
“Don't.”
He looked at the woman.
Then Eleanor.
“She insulted you.”
“I noticed.”
“You're allowing it?”
“No.”
“I’m deciding she isn’t worth delaying lunch.”
He considered.
Then continued walking.
“Efficient.”
“You’ll learn.”
They left Silver Hollow before noon.
For two days they climbed north.
Snow.
Pines.
Frozen creeks.
Narrow trails.
Caleb spoke only when needed.
“Trail’s icy.”
“Lean uphill.”
“Water in the left saddlebag.”
“Don’t let the mare eat that brush.”
“Why?”
“It’ll make her sick.”
“How?”
“She’ll explain all night.”
Eleanor laughed unexpectedly.
Caleb glanced back from his horse.
“What?”
“You made a joke.”
“No.”
“You did.”
“Unintentional.”
“Still counts.”
His mouth twitched.
The first night they stayed in a line cabin.
One narrow bed.
One bench.
Caleb took the bench.
Eleanor looked at him.
“You’ll wake unable to stand.”
“I'll stand.”
“You’re too large.”
“So are you.”
The words escaped before he could stop them.
Silence.
Eleanor’s body went rigid.
There it was.
She had been waiting.
Caleb looked at her face.
“Poor phrasing.”
She said nothing.
He continued.
“I meant we are both too large for that bed together.”
Eleanor looked toward the mattress.
Barely wide enough for one.
He was right.
“That’s all?”
“Yes.”
He held her gaze.
“No insult intended.”
She nodded slowly.
Something about his immediate correction mattered.
No joke afterward.
No:
You know what I mean.
No expectation she should laugh to make him comfortable.
He simply owned the mistake.
Caleb slept on the bench.
Badly.
Eleanor heard every time he shifted.
At dawn she said:
“Tonight we find a better arrangement.”
“We reach the house tonight.”
“Good.”
“Two beds?”
His silence answered.
She stared.
“One?”
“Yes.”
“Large?”
“Yes.”
“Curtain?”
“Yes.”
She folded her arms.
“The contract doesn't say you need to cripple yourself.”
“I won’t.”
“You slept folded like a pocketknife.”
“Temporary.”
Eleanor smiled.
“Mountain Wolf defeated by furniture.”
Caleb glared.
She enjoyed it.
The Morgan property appeared near sunset.
First the barn.
Then fencing.
Then the cabin.
Except “cabin” was misleading.
The main house had been expanded over decades.
Stone chimney.
Two rooms downstairs.
Loft upstairs.
Covered porch.
Attached work shed.
Root cellar.