Then rested both hands on the handle.
“Yesterday you told me to ask today.”
His eyes darkened.
“I remember.”
She stepped around the stump.
“You want me?”
“Yes.”
No hesitation now.
The Mountain Woman swallowed.
“Say it properly.”
The Mountain Man approached.
His size swallowed the space between them.
“I want you.”
Her heart hammered.
He continued.
“I have since the day you walked past me bleeding and told me to keep up.”
The Mountain Woman laughed softly.
“That long?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you say anything?”
“You were angry enough already.”
“True.”
His hand rose.
Stopped just short of her face.
Waiting.
The Mountain Woman closed the final inch herself.
His fingers touched her cheek.
Warm.
Callused.
Gentle.
She closed her eyes.
The Mountain Man whispered:
“Still choosing?”
She opened them.
“Yes.”
His other hand settled at her waist.
The Mountain Woman stepped closer.
Their bodies met.
His expression changed.
Months of restraint visible in one breath.
She looked up.
“Now who's breathing too loud?”
He almost laughed.
Then kissed her.
Slowly.
Carefully.
The Mountain Woman expected force because everything about him suggested force.
Instead she received control.
His hands held her as though strength existed specifically so he could choose not to use all of it.
She wrapped both arms around his neck.
That changed the kiss.
Not explicit.
Not rushed.
But deeper.
Certain.
When they separated, the Mountain Woman’s forehead rested against his chest.
He kissed the top of her head.
She smiled.
“Seven women.”
The Mountain Man groaned.
“What?”
“You rejected seven.”
“Yes.”
“Then I survive and suddenly you're kissing me beside the woodpile.”
He looked down.
“You complaining?”
“No.”
“Good.”
The Mountain Woman looked at the axe.
“Still think I’m slow?”
“Yes.”
She hit his arm.
He laughed.
Their relationship did not instantly become easy.
The Mountain Man remained impossible.
The Mountain Woman remained stubborn.
Now they simply argued from closer distances.
He worried about her on icy trails.
She accused him of treating her like porcelain after spending months doing the opposite.
He built a second rail beside the steep path.
She complained.
Then used it every day.
She made him wear cleaner shirts when traveling to town.
He complained.
Then secretly bought one.
By February, people in town began noticing.
The Mountain Woman came down the mountain beside him.
Not behind.
Beside.
The mercantile men who laughed when she arrived no longer laughed.
One asked:
“You staying?”
The Mountain Woman looked toward the Mountain Man.
“Yes.”
The Mountain Man pretended not to smile.
A woman near the counter whispered:
“Longer than the others.”