Needed sometimes.
But not owned.
Her mother noticed.
“You're different.”
The Mountain Woman smiled.
“How?”
“Happier.”
She looked down.
Her mother asked:
“Is there a man?”
The Mountain Woman laughed.
Her mother smiled.
“There is.”
“Yes.”
“Kind?”
“Yes.”
“Handsome?”
The Mountain Woman considered.
“Unfortunately.”
Her mother laughed.
Then coughed.
The Mountain Woman held her hand.
Her mother recovered.
Then asked:
“Does he love you properly?”
The question surprised her.
“What does properly mean?”
Her mother looked toward the window.
“Like you're a person before you're a wife.”
The Mountain Woman's throat tightened.
“Yes.”
Her mother nodded.
“Then go home.”
The Mountain Woman stared.
“This is home.”
Her mother smiled sadly.
“No.”
“This is where you came from.”
The Mountain Woman cried after that.
Quietly.
Her mother did too.
When the Mountain Woman returned to the mountain cabin, the Mountain Man saw her from the barn.
He dropped what he was carrying.
Actually dropped it.
A bucket hit the ground.
The Mountain Woman laughed.
He crossed the yard quickly.
Then stopped several feet away.
Maybe uncertain.
Maybe remembering she had left with choices unresolved.
The Mountain Woman set down her bag.
“You going to stand there?”
The Mountain Man moved.
He wrapped both arms around her.
Lifted her completely from the ground.
She laughed into his shoulder.
“Put me down!”
“No.”
“Man.”
“No.”
She kissed the side of his face.
He finally lowered her.
The Mountain Woman looked around.
The cabin.
Barn.
Mountain.
Spring mud.
Smoke from the chimney.
Home.
She said:
“My mother told me to come home.”
The Mountain Man’s expression fell slightly.
Then she smiled.
“So I did.”
He stared.
Understanding arrived.
The Mountain Man kissed her.
Later that evening, after supper, he disappeared into the bedroom.
Returned holding something small.
The Mountain Woman became suspicious.
“What?”
He looked uncomfortable.
That alone was entertaining.
The Mountain Man opened his hand.
A ring.
Simple silver.
Nothing elaborate.
The Mountain Woman stopped.
He said:
“My mother’s.”
She looked at him.
The Mountain Man continued.