For several seconds, they stood in an intimacy neither understood.
Then Elias's eyes returned to the letter.
“What else did he say?”
Clara swallowed.
“That I should not try to save you.”
“Good advice.”
“And not let you save me.”
“Also.”
“He said if either of us decided to stay in the other's life, it had to be because we wanted each other.”
Elias looked toward her.
“Wanted.”
“Yes.”
“His word?”
“Yes.”
He almost laughed.
Clara continued.
“He told me you had made promises after Jonah died.”
“No home.”
“No wife.”
“No children.”
“No one depending on you.”
Elias looked away.
Clara's voice softened.
“He said those promises were made by a grieving twenty-nine-year-old man.”
“Thirty-one.”
“Still grieving.”
“Yes.”
“And that no dead brother had asked you to keep them.”
Elias felt the sentence like a physical weight.
No dead brother had asked.
He looked at the blue blanket.
Clara approached slowly.
“You don't have to stay.”
“I know.”
“You don't have to like me.”
“I didn't say I don't.”
Her steps stopped.
Elias realized what he had said.
Clara's eyes changed.
“That's almost a compliment.”
“Don't become accustomed.”
She smiled.
“You don't have to open the bank account.”
“I probably should.”
“That part would be practical.”
“You don't have to build a ranch.”
“I know.”
“You don't have to marry.”
He looked at her.
“That seems pointed.”
Clara's cheeks colored again.
“I’m repeating the letter.”
“Convenient.”
“It also says your father hoped you might spend one supper here before running back into the mountains.”
Elias looked toward the window.
Night had arrived.
The trail would be dangerous now.
Clara noticed.
“Very strategic man.”
“He knew I'd be trapped by darkness.”
“He said something similar.”
Elias laughed.
“Fine.”
Clara looked surprised.
“Fine?”
“One supper.”
“One?”
“Yes.”
“Then you leave?”
“Morning.”
Her expression became unreadable.
Elias added:
“If the trail is clear.”
“Of course.”
“And Boone is rested.”
“Naturally.”
“And weather permits.”
“Elias.”
“Yes?”
“You're already inventing reasons.”
He stared.
Clara smiled.
Dinner was rabbit stew.
Elias told himself it was only food.
He sat at the small table opposite Clara.
She had changed.
That should not have disappointed him.
It did.
She wore a dark green dress now.
Simple.
High neckline.
Still flattering.
Elias hated that he noticed.
Clara saw him notice.
“Better?”
“What?”
“More comfortable?”
“Yes.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“For you or me?”
Elias drank coffee.
Clara laughed.
He discovered she was clever.
Not politely clever.
Dangerously observant.
She asked questions and actually listened to the answers.
She knew books.
Had read newspapers from Boston to San Francisco.
Could repair a roof badly and preserve fruit extremely well.
She hated mice.
Loved thunderstorms.
Sang when she thought nobody heard.
By the end of supper, Elias understood why his father had stayed.
Not only illness.
Clara made a room feel inhabited.
Warm.
He found himself talking.
About Boone.
Mining camps.
Winter trapping.
A cabin he kept near Black Pine Creek.
Clara asked:
“You own a cabin?”
“Barely.”
“Why not live there permanently?”
“Too far from work.”
“What work?”
“Whatever pays.”
“Courier?”
“Sometimes.”
“Guide?”
“Yes.”
“Trapper?”
“Less now.”
“Do you enjoy any of it?”
Elias paused.
“That wasn't one of the choices.”
Clara smiled.
“What do you enjoy?”
Silence.
He realized he did not know.
The question bothered him.
“Riding.”
“Work.”
“Fishing.”
“Better.”
“Quiet.”
She looked toward him.
“That's not the same as loneliness.”
There it was again.
Elias set down his spoon.
“Do you practice these attacks?”
“Only when someone makes them easy.”
He smiled.
Clara saw.
“There.”
“What?”
“You stopped scowling.”
“Temporary.”
“Shame.”
After supper Elias helped with dishes.
Clara protested.
He ignored her.
At one point she stood beside him, too close for the narrow counter.
Her hip brushed his.
Elias moved away automatically.
Clara noticed.
“You're frightened.”
“No.”
“Of me.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Then why did you jump?”
“I did not jump.”
“You moved so quickly I thought the floor caught fire.”
He looked at her.
“Clara.”
She leaned one hand against the counter.
“Yes?”
“What exactly are you trying to do?”
Her teasing vanished.
“Find out whether you leave because you want to leave.”
“Or?”
“Because you're afraid of wanting to stay.”
Silence.
Elias stared.
She immediately looked regretful.
“That was unfair.”
“No.”
“I barely know you.”
“You know enough.”
“Only what your father told me.”
“He knew too much.”
Clara stepped closer.
“Elias.”
“Yes?”
“I won't trap you.”
“I know.”
“I won't use his wishes against you.”
“I know.”
“And I won't pretend I’m not attracted to you because that would be dishonest.”
He froze.
Clara's face went crimson.
She laughed nervously.
“There.”
“What?”
“I finally shocked you.”
Elias cleared his throat.
“Congratulations.”
“I've been trying since the doorway.”
“I noticed.”
She looked down.
“I shouldn't have said it.”
“Why?”
“Because now you're uncomfortable.”
He stepped closer.
Clara looked up.
“I'm uncomfortable because I've been attracted to you since the doorway.”
Her breath caught.
Elias continued:
“And I've spent the last several hours pretending that is irrelevant.”
“Is it?”
“No.”
The cabin suddenly felt very quiet.
Clara whispered:
“What do we do about that?”
Elias's voice dropped.
“Nothing tonight.”
Disappointment flashed across her face.
He noticed.
He added:
“Not because I don't want to.”
Clara looked at him.
“Then why?”
“Because I met you today.”
“Yes.”
“Because my dead father arranged this entire situation.”
“Unromantic when phrased that way.”
“Very.”
Clara smiled.
“And because I don't want tomorrow morning to feel like one more thing either of us was pushed toward.”
The humor left her eyes.
“That may be the most romantic thing you've said.”
“I wasn't trying.”
“I know.”
Elias touched her hand.
Only that.
Her fingers slowly closed around his.
She whispered:
“Stay in the chair tonight.”
He nodded.
“Probably wise.”
“Tomorrow?”
“We'll see.”
Clara smiled.
Elias did not sleep.
He sat near the fire.
Listened to Clara moving softly in the bedroom.
Thought about Jonah.
His father.
The north trail.
Seven years.
He opened the letter again.
Read the final paragraphs.
Do not confuse guilt with loyalty.
Jonah loved you.
Your mother loved you.
I loved you badly but completely.
None of us asked you to disappear.
Elias covered his face.
For the first time in years, he cried.
Quietly.
Angrily.
He did not hear Clara enter.
Only felt her hand on his shoulder.
Elias wiped his face immediately.
“Sorry.”
“Don't apologize.”
“I woke you.”
“No.”
He looked up.
She wore the cream nightgown again.
Hair loose.
Bare feet.
But now Elias did not see temptation first.
He saw kindness.
Clara sat on the floor beside his chair.
“You read it again.”
“Yes.”
“Angry?”
“Yes.”
“At him?”
“Yes.”
“At yourself?”
“More.”
She rested her head against the side of his knee.
Not asking.
Not forcing.
Simply there.
Elias's hand hovered.
Then settled gently in her hair.
“They all died.”
Clara looked up.
“My brother.”
“My mother.”
“My father.”
“Yes.”
“And I spent years making certain no one else could matter.”
Clara's eyes softened.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“How?”