“No.”
She stepped toward him.
He held up one hand.
“Don't.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve already confessed enough humiliation for one evening.”
Eleanor’s expression softened.
“Caleb.”
He looked at her reluctantly.
“You're frightened.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I have been attacked by a mountain lion.”
“And?”
“This is worse.”
She laughed again.
Caleb groaned.
“I should have slept outside.”
“You would freeze.”
“Possibly preferable.”
Eleanor reached for his hand.
He allowed it.
His fingers trembled.
That stunned her more than the confession.
This enormous man.
This mountain trapper people in town described as nearly fearless.
Trembling because she was holding his hand.
Eleanor whispered:
“Sit.”
He looked toward the bed.
Then at her.
“Where?”
She pointed.
“On the bed.”
His expression suggested she had asked him to leap from a cliff.
“Eleanor.”
“Sit.”
He obeyed.
At the far edge.
So far that half his thigh nearly hung off the mattress.
Eleanor sat beside him.
Caleb immediately increased the distance by several inches.
She looked between them.
“You realize this is ridiculous.”
“Yes.”
“Come closer.”
He moved perhaps one inch.
She stared.
“That was insulting.”
“I moved.”
“Barely.”
“Progress.”
Eleanor smiled.
Then she reached up and touched his cheek.
Caleb stopped breathing.
Her thumb moved over the edge of his beard.
She whispered:
“If I tell you something makes me uncomfortable, what do you do?”
“Stop.”
“How quickly?”
“Immediately.”
“If I change my mind?”
“Stop.”
“If I say nothing?”
He thought.
“Ask.”
Eleanor felt emotion rise unexpectedly.
She swallowed it.
“Good.”
Caleb’s eyes searched hers.
“And if I do something wrong?”
“I tell you.”
“What if I don't know what I'm doing?”
“You already admitted that.”
He sighed.
“Wonderful.”
She smiled.
Then slowly leaned closer.
Caleb remained motionless.
She stopped before their mouths touched.
Close enough to feel his breath.
“Caleb.”
“Yes?”
“You may kiss me.”
His voice was nearly a whisper.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
He leaned forward.
Too carefully.
Their mouths barely touched.
Then he pulled away.
Eleanor stared.
“That was it?”
His face fell.
“Was it wrong?”
Her heart nearly broke.
“No.”
She touched his beard.
“That was not wrong.”
She leaned in again.
This time she kissed him.
Slowly.
Not teaching through instruction.
Teaching through patience.
Caleb responded after a moment.
Uncertain.
Then warmer.