The Mountain Woman’s heartbeat accelerated.
The Mountain Man’s eyes moved across her face.
Then he set her down.
Immediately.
Too immediately.
He went inside.
The Mountain Woman stared after him.
Coward.
Again.
The next day, the Mountain Man avoided her.
She let him.
By evening, her patience disappeared.
He sat at the table repairing a leather strap.
The Mountain Woman placed a bowl down harder than necessary.
“What?”
he asked.
“You tell me.”
“Nothing.”
“There it is.”
“What?”
“That word.”
He frowned.
The Mountain Woman folded her arms.
“You catch me.”
“Carry me.”
“Stare at me like you forgot language.”
“Then spend a day pretending I’m furniture.”
The Mountain Man’s hands stopped.
She continued.
“You think I don't notice?”
He looked away.
That made her angrier.
“Look at me.”
Slowly, he did.
The Mountain Woman’s voice softened.
“Am I too big for you?”
His expression changed instantly.
“No.”
The speed of the answer surprised her.
She stared.
The Mountain Man looked confused.
“Why would you ask that?”
The Mountain Woman laughed bitterly.
“You really don't know.”
“No.”
She gestured toward herself.
“This.”
He frowned harder.
“Woman.”
“My body.”
“I know what you mean.”
“Do you?”
She stepped closer.
“I know what people see.”
“I know what men say.”
“I know why some of them laugh.”
The Mountain Man’s jaw tightened.
She continued:
“Maybe you respect me.”
“Maybe I’m useful.”
“Maybe I work hard enough for your mountain.”
“But that doesn’t mean you want me.”
The Mountain Man stood.
The Mountain Woman stopped.
He came around the table.
His face had gone hard.
Not at her.
At the idea.
He stopped inches away.
“You think I don't want you?”
She swallowed.
“You keep walking away.”
His laugh was low and disbelieving.
The Mountain Woman’s face warmed.
He stepped closer.
“You think that is because I don't want you.”
“What else?”
The Mountain Man looked toward the ceiling.
As though asking heaven for patience.
Then down at her.
“Because I’m trying not to frighten you.”
The Mountain Woman stared.
“What?”
“I am twice your strength.”
“You are not twice my strength.”
His eyes dropped toward the stack of firewood.
“Fine.”
“Maybe not twice.”
She almost smiled.
He continued.
“I’ve seen what happens when men like me decide wanting something means taking it.”
The Mountain Woman’s expression softened.
“I will not be that.”
She understood.
The Mountain Man’s voice became rough.
“You are here because of an arrangement.”
“You came up this mountain because you needed somewhere.”