The Mountain Man became easier to know without other people around.
He read at night.
Slowly.
Usually history.
Sometimes scripture.
He disliked poetry but pretended he did not.
The Mountain Woman caught him reading a book of poems once.
He closed it immediately.
She smiled.
He frowned.
Neither discussed it.
Then came the night he got hurt.
A branch fell during a storm.
Struck his shoulder.
Not broken.
Badly bruised.
The Mountain Woman helped remove his coat.
Then his shirt.
That was the first time she saw most of his chest.
She forgot the cloth in her hand.
The Mountain Man noticed.
“You all right?”
The Mountain Woman looked at his shoulder.
“Yes.”
“You stopped moving.”
“I was thinking.”
“About?”
“Whether you're stupid.”
The Mountain Man smiled.
She treated the injury.
Her fingers touched his skin.
Warm.
Hard beneath the bruising.
He looked at her the entire time.
She pretended not to know.
That pretending lasted several weeks.
Then butter happened.
Now they stood beside the churn with months of unfinished tension between them.
The Mountain Woman looked down.
“We should finish this.”
The Mountain Man said:
“Yes.”
Neither moved.
She looked at the golden butter floating in pale buttermilk.
He looked at her.
The Mountain Woman finally laughed.
“Stop.”
“What?”
“That.”
“What?”
“Looking at me like that.”
“How am I looking?”
“You know.”
“I don't.”
She turned fully toward him.
“Like you’re deciding something.”
The Mountain Man’s expression became serious.
“I am.”
“What?”
He took time.
The Mountain Woman felt her heart beating harder.
The Mountain Man asked:
“You staying after winter?”
The question surprised her.
Her contract technically ended in early spring.
They had never discussed beyond that.
She had assumed he wanted another season.
Maybe he assumed she wanted to leave.
The Mountain Woman said:
“You want me to?”
“Yes.”
Too fast.
His answer came without thought.
That mattered.
She looked at him.
“As housekeeper?”
The Mountain Man went quiet.
There it was.
The real question.
The Mountain Woman lowered her voice.
“Man.”
His jaw tightened.
She continued.
“I need to know what you mean.”
He looked toward the fire.
Then back.
“I don’t know how to say it right.”
She smiled softly.
“Try wrong.”
The Mountain Man breathed out.
“I don't want you leaving.”
The Mountain Woman waited.