Closer, the fire popped. A spark jumped, died before it hit the floor. "What about you? " she asked. "You always ride around fixing strangers' problems? " A small shift in his mouth. Almost a smile.
Not usually. Then why here? He didn't answer right away. His eyes moved across the cabin, the walls, the stove, the chair she had been using alone, then back to her. I heard about you.
Clara stiffened. In town? He nodded. They said there was a woman out here doing a man's work. Her jaw tightened.
They said a lot more than that. I don't care what they said. His voice stayed low. I came to see. And?
She met his eyes. Didn't look away. And I was right. A beat. You're still here.
Simple words, but they hit deeper than they should have. Clara looked down at her hands, the cracks in her skin, the faint lines where the cold had bitten too hard. I don't have anywhere else to go. You had Missouri. I left Missouri.
Her voice sharpened, just enough. I didn't come all this way to run back. Elijah nodded slowly. I figured. The wind outside picked up again.
The door rattled in its frame. Clara shivered, barely, but he saw it. You're cold. I'm fine. He stepped closer to the stove, added another log, adjusted it until the flame caught stronger.
The heat spread. Slow, steady, fine doesn't look like that. She almost smiled. Almost. You don't look like a man who worries about that.
I worry about what's in front of me. His eyes met hers again. And right now, that's you. The air shifted, subtle, but real. Clara felt it in her chest, like something loosening, something dangerous.
She turned away, moved toward the counter, poured more coffee, anything to break it. Where'd you learn to work like that? She asked. Blacksmith, he answered without hesitation. Kansas, that explains the hands.
He glanced down at the calloused, scarred They've seen worse than wood. A pause. My wife used to say they were too rough. Clara froze. Just slightly.
You were married? Yes, nothing else. No detail. But it stayed between them. Heavy, she set the cup down in front of him.
Careful was? He looked at the fire. Not at her. Accident, one word. Flat enough, Clara didn't ask more.
Didn't need to. She knew what that word meant out here. She sat back down, slow. The distance between them felt smaller now. Not gone.