"I've been waiting for you," she said. Taza had faced difficult men, dangerous winters, injured horses, and years of loneliness without showing fear. But those six words unsettled him more than any of them. He looked at Clara. "You don't know what you're saying. " Clara's expression remained calm.
"I do. " "No. " Taza shook his head. "You think you do. " Clara leaned forward slightly. "Then tell me what I don't understand. " Taza looked toward the fire. "My life isn't easy. " "I know. " "I live alone. " "I know. " "I have no interest in fancy houses, parties, or the things women in town dream about. " Clara smiled faintly. "I don't dream about those things. " "You should. " "Why? " "Because you're still young enough to have them. " Clara's expression softened.
"And you think you're too old. " Taza didn't answer. She already knew. He stood and walked toward the window. The storm had hidden the mountains completely. "When I was young," he said quietly, "I thought life was supposed to give us what we wanted.
I believed if I worked hard enough, protected people enough, and loved someone enough, nothing could take them away. " He paused. "I was wrong. Clara didn't interrupt. Taza turned toward her. I won't make that mistake again.
Clara stood. Loving me wouldn't be a mistake. You don't know that. Neither do you. That answer surprised him.
Clara walked toward the fire. I don't need you to promise me forever tonight. I don't need you to become someone else. I don't need you to pretend you're younger. She looked directly at him.
I only need you to stop deciding what I want. Taza stared at her. Nobody had ever spoken to him that way. Not disrespectfully, not angrily, just honestly. The storm finally weakened near dawn.
Clara left the cabin the next morning, but something between them had changed. Taza watched her ride toward town. He wanted to call her back. He didn't. Instead, he stood alone beside the cabin and wondered whether he had already waited too long.
For the next several days, Clara continued with her work. Taza expected her to avoid him after their conversation. She didn't. She visited the mountain settlement with supplies. She spoke with him normally.
She never pressured him. That somehow made things harder. Taza had expected her confession to disappear once the storm ended. Instead, every quiet moment reminded him of it. One afternoon, Clara found him repairing a wooden fence.
"You're avoiding me," she said. Taza continued working. "No, you are. " He looked at her. "I've been busy. " "You're always busy. " Taza sighed. Clara smiled.
"You don't have to be afraid of me. " "I'm not. " "You are. " He placed the hammer down. "What do you want me to say? " "The truth. " Taza looked at her. "The truth is that I don't understand why you would want me. Clara's face softened. Then maybe you should stop asking why.
He frowned. Because I already told you. She stepped closer. I've been waiting for you. Taza looked away.
Before he could respond, they heard horses approaching from the road. Clara turned. Three riders were entering the settlement. Her face changed. Taza noticed immediately.
Who are they? My relatives. Her brother was riding at the front. Behind him were two men Clara had known since childhood. Her brother dismounted.