They ate the soup again for lunch. She was curled up on the bed—his bed—with his socks on her feet, and his sweater wrapped around her. A bone-deep satisfaction he’d never experienced before settled over him. Something about caring for this woman, providing for her, felt so right.

When Gia asked for more salt, Elijah reluctantly handed her a pinch from his stash.

“Is it worth its weight in gold?” she teased at the tiny amount.

He grunted. “I cure a lot of meat in winter with it. If the weather gets bad and I can’t get to town for a few months, I need some handy. Can’t hunt in bad weather, either.”

Her face fell. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to waste it.” She stared sadly at the soup.

“It’s okay,” he reassured her, not liking to see her unhappy.

“It’s so different out here,” she murmured. “Tell me about how you live out here. What’s your day like?”

“I don’t know. I get up, do my chores, sleep.”

She laughed, and the sound sunk into him, warming him from the inside out better than soup ever could. It also affected him lower, but he shifted to ignore the tightening in his groin.

She continued with her questions. “Okay, but more specifically. Like, you said the water came from a nearby river. Did you build the plumbing?”

He nodded. “With my Pa. At first we lived out of buckets but our first winter that was too difficult because it kept freezing. It still does, sometimes, in the pipes.”

Gia nodded. “And did you and your dad build the cabin, too? Or did you buy it as is?”

“We built it. Camped out for a while in the summer, putting it together. Took too long to haul supplies up the mountain so we used what we could find around here.” That first summer had been filled with happiness, despite his mother’s recent death. He’d spent time with his father, bonded with him, for the first time in years. Looking back, the initial signs of the strange behavior which characterized his later years had already taken root. But that summer, Elijah had enjoyed the labor and the bonding.

“I don’t see electricity,” she commented. “Why’s that?”

He shrugged. “Too difficult. Not enough sun for solar. And the trees block the wind for wind power. My friend, Aaron, says I should try hydroelectric, from the nearest river. Apparently you can get these devices that do it. But it’s expensive. I don’t think I could make my own version.”

“Wait, so you don’t have visitors, and you don’t have a phone, but you do have a friend. I was beginning to wonder,” she teased.

Elijah couldn’t help a smile. He didn’t get teased often. Only Aaron was brave enough. Though since Elijah only ever talked to three or four people, it was a small sample of possibilities.

“When I go in for supplies, he’s usually in the diner,” Elijah explained. “Sara, who runs it, gives me a free meal and a drink. She’s nice. So I talk to Aaron then. He’s good at this living off the grid thing. He’s read all the books, has all the latest technology.”

Elijah expected her to ask about the technology, since she seemed fascinated by his lack. But the next words were not what he’d expected.

“Sara? Is she another…friend of yours?”

Elijah blinked. Was there some meaning he was missing? “She talks to me. She’s nice. I don’t know if we’re friends, not like me and Aaron.”

“So she’s something more than a friend?”

Elijah choked on his soup. “No,” he managed, finally understanding what she was asking. His face was hot as he stared into his soup.

“Oh,” she replied, hiding a pleased smile.

“I think she likes Aaron like that.”

Her eyes sparkled. “Ooooh, town gossip. How does Aaron feel?”

Elijah shrugged. “I’ve never asked. But he’s in her diner all the time.”

She grinned. “Excellent. I don’t know these people and I’m already invested in their romance. I hope they get it together.”

Elijah considered telling her Aaron and Sara had known each other for five years and hadn’t managed to make a move on each other yet. At this rate, he didn’t think it would happen anytime soon. But he didn’t want to dim the pleasure in her eyes.

“Maybe you’ll meet them when we get to town.”

Then, her eyes did dim, and Elijah’s heart went with it. What had he said?

“Yes, I’d like to meet your friends.”

Elijah studied her face for a long moment, but couldn’t understand her sudden shift in mood. Instead, he changed the subject.

“I might need to go hunting this afternoon, or we won’t have meat for dinner. How are you?”

“I’m fine. Do what you need to do. I don’t want to be a bother.”

He frowned at her. “You’re not a bother, you’re injured.”

“Maybe I’m a bit of both.”

He shook his head. “I…I like having you here,” he mumbled into his soup. And though he’d said it to comfort her, he found it was true. He liked having someone here with him, if only for a while. Someone to talk to, to share his things with.

It didn’t hurt she was beautiful. Especially sitting there in his bed, with his sweater hanging off her small frame. He wished he could join her. Touch her. Strip that sweater from her body along with everything else.

But he shouldn’t think that. Not when they tightened his skin and made his pulse pound. Later, when she was gone, he’d allow himself time to imagine her, to think of the what-ifs. Then, he could take care of his throbbing cock.

Now, he had to ignore those feelings she inspired in him until she was gone or he might be stupid enough to act on them. He couldn’t imagine anything more embarrassing than clumsily touching her, attempting to please her.

“I like being here,” she whispered, dragging his thoughts back to the present. “I feel safe.”

Elijah scowled, his erection immediately disappearing. “You weren’t safe where you came from?”

She hesitated. “No.” Her gaze darted to the bag of money by the wall.

What did that mean? Had she made herself unsafe by earning or stealing that money? Or was it something else?

“So,” she said, a little too loudly. “Tell me what else there is to this place.”

Elijah smiled. “How about I show you?”

Ten minutes later she was in a borrowed pair of boots with multiple pairs of socks to keep them from slipping off her tiny feet. She was back in the pilot’s ski pants and jacket as she stepped outside. He wrapped one of her arms around his so she could use him for balance on her bad ankle. Her bare hand brushed his skin. He’d need to make her some gloves. His spares would be too big for her.

He gestured to the garden with its raised beds. “It’s winter, so there aren’t many vegetables left. I’ll plant them again when the soil isn’t as hard.” If only she could see it in spring and summer, when everything bloomed. It was a beautiful riot of color, instead of this straggly patch that didn’t look like much. He’d always been proud of his garden. But would it impress Gia?

“And what are those?” she asked, pointing to the covered plants.

“Root vegetables. They survive quite well in the frozen ground.”

She nodded. “I don’t know anything about gardening. I’ve always lived in cities and bought my vegetables from a supermarket. But out here I suppose it’s life or death, isn’t it? Getting it right, I mean.”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t you ever get afraid?” she asked.

He hummed, considering. Did he get afraid? “Sometimes. When an accident happens, or something doesn’t go as planned, and I know I’ll have a lean few months. Or something essential breaks and I can’t get to town to fix it. But it’s exhilarating in a way, too. I live or die by my own hard work. Everything is down to me, and I don’t have to rely on anyone. It’s freeing.”

She considered the plot of potatoes, along with his words. “Free. That sounds nice.”

He eyed her. What was her story? Should he pry?

“Does it ever get lonely?” she asked quietly.

The question was a kick to the guts. He studied the familiar garden beds, the chicken roost, the stump where he chopped his wood, the structure where he tanned his leather. All so loved, so familiar. He couldn’t imagine living any other way. But through it all was the quiet he tried so hard to ignore.

“Yeah,” he said eventually, admitting aloud a truth he hadn’t let himself fathom. His gaze met hers, locked there, and all the breath left him in a rush.

She stumbled in her oversized shoes. Elijah caught her, pulling her against his chest to steady her. She was so soft, felt so right in his arms. He tilted his hips back so his hard erection wouldn’t press into her, giving him away.

Her lips parted, and Elijah had the mad idea she wanted him to kiss her.

He was tempted, so tempted, to press his lips against hers. But it wouldn’t be right. She would leave soon, and then he’d have to go back to his solitary existence without her. And he didn’t think he could do that and stay sane if he’d had a taste of her.

That was even if he’d read her signals correctly. There was no way he could be sure. It’s not like he had a world of experience to compare it to.

Instead of doing what his body, mind, and heart begged him to, he stepped away from her.

He cleared his throat. “So, over here we have the chicken hutch. You can see the walls have two layers with air between. That helps it stay warm in winter and cool in summer.” He was rambling, an unusual occurrence for him. But it gave him time to pull himself together.

“I’ve been thinking of getting a sheep,” he blurted out.

Gia blinked. “A sheep?”

“For the milk. And the wool. More versatile than a cow or a goat.”

“Right. So what’s stopping you?” Was she humoring him by asking the question? He decided to take it at face value. Since his father had passed, he hadn’t had anyone to discuss issues with, or bounce ideas off, and he realized he missed it.

“Well, it’s another mouth to feed. And I’d have to milk it often and I don’t think I need that much milk. I’d have to learn to make cheese and stuff maybe. Pasteurize the milk. And I’ve never sheared a sheep. I don’t know how much wool they produced. Then I’d need to turn it into yarn. It’s probably easier for me to trade to get ready-made wool and milk.”

He shrugged trailing off.

“Maybe you should get one once you have more mouths to feed. A wife. Kids.”

Her words tugged at things best left untouched. If she unraveled those knots, his life would forever be altered. Not for the better, either.

But the longer she stayed, the more those thoughts burrowed into his mind, made him think things could be different. He reminded himself of his father’s words, that imagining things which could never happen would only lead to sadness. But Gia’s presence was stronger than his long-dead father’s, and the words were a faint echo of what they’d once been.

He led her around the yard, explaining more about what he did every day. Turning the compost, feeding the chickens, hunting in the forest beyond. He showed her some of the traps he’d set inside the tree line. He explained about chopping wood—not only for the fire, but to make his garden structures, his tanning frames, repair broken parts of the cabin, or anything else.

His days had always been full. Now he felt a strange mix of self-consciousness and pride at what he did with them. He’d built this place, first with his father, and then made some improvements after his father’s death. He’d worked hard to make it what it was. But Gia was the first person other than him to see it, to know how he spent his days, and he worried she’d judge him. She’d come from such a different world, one which made his appear pathetically simple by comparison. He reminded himself a simple life was the point of being out here, but he found Gia’s opinion mattered.

She didn’t act like she hated it. In fact, she asked many curious questions, and seemed fascinated by everything he told her. The more they talked, the more he relaxed.

When she stumbled again, he managed to hold her upright without plastering her to his chest this time. He had to keep his distance.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, eyeing her carefully.

“A little tired,” she admitted.

“I’ll bring you back in.” Before he could stop himself, he’d scooped her up into his arms and cradled her against his chest. She was so soft, so right.

“I’m okay,” she said, but she didn’t struggle, simply wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed closer. Satisfaction burrowed into him at her reaction.

“Your head wound will take a while to fully heal,” he said, stepping into the dim interior of the cabin. “Concussions can be nasty. And the mountain altitude wouldn’t help. I remember it taking a while to get used to it.”

She nodded and rested her head over his heart. When he lowered her to the bed, he hovered for a moment. Her beautiful dark eyes stared up at him, heavy-lidded with sleep. But the starved, lonely part of him wanted to believe it was desire.

Unable to resist, he trailed his fingers over her bare neck as he retracted his hand. She gave him a soft smile in response.

Then, her eyes closed, and Elijah wrenched himself back. He needed to stop this. She was tired and vulnerable and at his mercy. Yes, he wanted her, not only in his bed, but in his life. To talk to and take care of. Provide for and protect. But there were too many reasons it would never work. She was a city girl with a bag stuffed full of money. She’d never give all that away to live a simple life out here in the mountains with him. And he couldn’t follow her back to civilization. This was his mountain, his home. The only world he knew and the one he loved.

To clear his head while she slept—and to wipe the image of her soft and welcoming in his bed—Elijah grabbed his hunting gear and headed off into the forest. It was easier away from her, in the peaceful silence of the mountain. Just him and the animals, all foraging for food together to make it through the rest of winter.

He managed to flush out some rabbits, but his mind was so distracted he only managed to catch one. It would have to be enough. Even after he caught the rabbit, he stayed outdoors. It wasn’t until the sun fell that he finally made his way back home.

Gia shook everything up, making him question things, making him ache for things he’d accepted long ago would never be for him.

He couldn’t let her change him. Not when she would only be there for a short time. If her ankle was healed, he would have bundled her down the mountain already, but he knew that was his fear talking. It wouldn’t be wise to make the trek now. He knew the mountain well enough to know a snowstorm was coming. He didn’t know exactly when, but soon.

It would be bad enough if he got trapped out there alone. But with an inexperienced mountaineer it could easily turn deadly.

Yes, better to keep Gia here where she was safe. And if he was pleased by her having to stay longer, he wouldn’t think too hard about it.