"It is tonight."
He almost smiled.
Then his shoulder tightened again.
Hannah saw him wince.
"Sit."
"Nathan, sit."
This time he did.
She warmed water in a small kettle and found a clean rag in the supply chest.
Nathan watched her.
"You've done this before."
"Strained shoulder."
"On who?"
"Father. Samuel twice. Peter once. Me once."
"You?"
"I fell out of a hay wagon."
Nathan looked her over.
"You fell?"
"Yes."
"The wagon survived?"
Hannah stared at him.
Then he smiled.
Actually smiled.
She threw the rag at his chest.
He caught it with his good hand and laughed.
The sound filled the little cabin.
Outside, wind hammered snow against the walls.
Inside, Hannah sat beside him and helped loosen his coat.
She kept her movements practical.
"Careful."
His shoulder was swollen beneath the shirt.
She pressed the warm cloth against it.
Nathan's breath changed.
"Too hot?"
"No."
"Too much pressure?"
"No."
"You know, you can answer with more than one word."
"I save them for winter."
"For people who deserve them."
She looked up.
He was already watching her.
The joking disappeared.
Hannah's hand remained against his shoulder a second longer than necessary.
She moved it away.
By full dark, the storm had worsened.
The stove could barely hold the room warm.
Nathan ate cold biscuit and jerky with his left hand.
Hannah had stopped pretending the cabin would become comfortable.
When it came time to sleep, Nathan dragged the chair toward the stove.
Hannah stood beside the bunk.
"No."
He looked at her.
"We discussed this."
"You announced it."
"That isn't the same thing."
"There is one bed."
"I noticed."
Nathan rubbed his jaw.
Hannah folded back one blanket.
"We share it."
His eyes lifted.
The room suddenly seemed very small.
"Hannah."
"We are fully clothed. There's a storm outside. You're hurt."
"I can manage."
"I know."
He stopped her.
She held his gaze.
"I know you can."
After a long silence, Nathan stood.
"All right."
The bunk complained under his weight.
Hannah climbed in beside him.
There was hardly room for both.
Nathan pressed himself against the wall, leaving as much space as he could.
Hannah lay on her side facing the stove.
His warmth reached her through coat, shirt, and blankets.
Neither slept.
The wind shook the roof.
After a long time, Nathan spoke.
"Jacob hated cold water."
Hannah did not turn.
"He could swim better than me."