His voice was deep, vibrating through her spine. You are in the ranch house. The door is locked. Pike is in prison. I am here.
Clara gasped, clutching his arms. I thought I thought he was back. He is gone, Eli said. He kept repeating it, a steady chant against the panic. He is gone.
You are safe. The grass is green. The creek is running. I am holding you. Slowly, the terror receded.
Clara slumped against him, exhausted. Does it ever go away? She whispered in the dark. I do not know, Eli admitted. But you do not have to carry it alone when it comes.
He stroked her hair until her breathing evened out. He was her anchor, not because he was fearless, but because he knew the shape of her fear and did not judge it. May brought the wild flowers. The valley was a carpet of yellow and purple. The cattle were fattening up on the new grass.
One evening after Leo had gone to the loft, Eli and Clara were in the bedroom. The window was open, letting in the scent of sage and wet earth. Clara was brushing her hair. She looked at Eli in the mirror. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling off his boots.
He looked up and caught her gaze. He looked different than the man she had met in the rain 6 months ago. He was broader, not in bone, but in presence. The shy hunch was gone. Clara put down the brush.
She turned to face him. A playful light danced in her green eyes. Something bright and new. She walked to the bed. She stood between his knees, looking down at him.
Mr. Concincaid, she said softly. Eli looked up, his hands pausing on his boot heel. Mrs. Concincaid.
Clara smiled. She reached out and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, her fingers lingering on the skin. "I am your wife," she said, echoing the words she had spoken in terror on their first night. But this time, the words were not a plea for safety. They were a claim.
"Can I? " she trailed off, her eyebrow raised, a challenge and an invitation wrapped in one. Eli laughed. It was a rusty sound, but full of joy. He reached out and pulled her down onto his lap. You can, he promised, kissing the hollow of her throat.