Chapter 10 - One Cabin, One Blizzard, and One Dangerous Truth
The worst storm of winter arrived five days before the hearing.
By noon, snow had buried half the porch.
By evening, wind had torn loose a shutter.
Caleb went outside with rope.
Eleanor followed.
“Inside.”
“No.”
“Eleanor.”
“You promised to stop acting like your life doesn’t matter.”
“This is different.”
“It always is when you’re the one in danger.”
He stared at her.
Then thrust a second rope into her hands.
“Stay behind the wall.”
Together they secured the shutter.
On their way back, a pine branch crashed across the path.
Caleb pulled Eleanor toward him.
The branch missed her by inches.
They fell into the snow.
For several seconds neither moved.
Caleb’s body shielded hers.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Anywhere?”
“No.”
His face was close.
Snow clung to his lashes.
Eleanor’s heart pounded.
Caleb looked at her mouth.
Then abruptly rose.
Inside, the cabin was colder.
The stove pipe had shifted.
Smoke began filling the room.
For the next hour they worked frantically.
Caleb repaired the pipe.
Eleanor opened vents and covered the fire.
Finally the smoke cleared.
They sat exhausted on the floor.
Eleanor began laughing.
Caleb stared.
“What?”
“We almost died from a tree, then nearly suffocated because of a stove.”
“That’s funny?”
“Not especially.”
She laughed harder.
Perhaps from fear.
Perhaps exhaustion.
Eventually Caleb laughed too.
It was the first time Eleanor heard the sound fully.
Deep.
Unexpected.
Warm.
The storm continued.
They ate biscuits on the floor because neither had strength to set the table.
Later, the temperature dropped.
Caleb added blankets to Eleanor’s bed.
“You?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re always fine.”
“I’m learning that answer doesn’t work with you.”
“Good.”
He sat against the wall.
Eleanor looked at the bed.
Then at him.
“Come here.”
Caleb froze.
“What?”
“The bed is large enough.”
“No.”
“You’re going to freeze.”
“I won’t.”
“Caleb.”
His eyes met hers.
“This is not the same as the curtain.”
“I know.”
“If I lie there—”
“I know.”
He looked almost afraid.
Of her.
Of himself.
Eleanor moved to one side.
“You promised not to touch me without permission.”
“Yes.”
“I’m giving permission to sleep.”
Only sleep.
Caleb remained still for several seconds.
Then he lay down above the blanket on the far edge.
A full foot separated them.
The wind screamed.
Neither slept.
Finally Eleanor whispered, “Why did you never marry?”
Caleb stared at the ceiling.
“No reason to.”
“That sounds convincing.”
He sighed.
“I came close once.”
Eleanor felt something unpleasant.
Jealousy.
She hated it.
“What happened?”
“She wanted town. I wanted the mountain.”
“Who?”
“Anna Bell.”
Eleanor knew the name.
Anna had married a banker in Denver years ago.
“Did you love her?”
“I thought I did.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It’s the only one I have.”
Eleanor turned toward him.
Caleb continued.
“I liked the idea of not being alone. She liked the idea of changing me. Neither of us loved the person who actually existed.”
The jealousy faded.
“What happened?”
“She left.”
“And you decided nobody else could.”
He turned his head.
“You understand too much.”
Eleanor smiled sadly.
“I know something about building walls.”
The storm shook the cabin.
Caleb’s hand rested between them.
Palm down.
Eleanor looked at it.
Slowly, she placed her fingers beside his.
Not touching.
Almost.
Caleb turned his hand.
Their little fingers touched.
Neither moved.
“Eleanor.”
“Yes?”
“What happens after March?”
The question she had feared.
“I pay my debts.”
“And then?”
“I don’t know.”
“You could stay.”
Her breath stopped.
“As what?”
Caleb said nothing.
Wife?
Housekeeper?
Employee?
Something else?
The silence became painful.
Eleanor pulled her hand away.
“That’s what I thought.”
“Wait.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know how to say this.”
“Try.”
Caleb sat up.
So did she.
Firelight moved across his face.
“I don’t want you to leave.”
Eleanor stared.
He continued, each word difficult.
“When I come back from the barn, I look for the light in the window.”
Her eyes filled.
“When something happens, good or bad, you’re the person I think to tell.”
“Caleb…”
“I know how this started.”
He looked at her.
“And I know what the contract says.”
“Then what are you saying?”
He swallowed.
“I’m saying the idea of this house without you feels worse than losing the property.”
Eleanor could not breathe.
Caleb lifted his hand.
Stopped.
“May I?”
She nodded.
He touched her cheek.
Gently.
No demand.
No possession.
Eleanor closed her eyes.
His forehead rested against hers.
They stayed that way.
No kiss.
Not yet.
Then a violent crack echoed outside.
Caleb stood instantly.
The barn.
They ran to the window.
Part of the roof had collapsed beneath the snow.
And beneath that roof were the horses they needed to reach the hearing.
May you like
The storm had just turned their private confession into a fight for everything.
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