“Can You Make Me Come Tonight — The Mail Order Bride Asked… The Virgin Mountain Man Whispered, ‘I…’”

Chapter 8

The storm broke on the fifth morning.

Margaret woke to a different kind of silence. The wind had stopped. The world outside was still, muffled, buried under four feet of fresh snow. Sunlight streamed through the frosted window, casting the cabin in a pale, crystalline glow.

Elias was already awake, standing by the window, looking out at the transformed landscape.

“It’s over,” he said.

She joined him at the window, wrapping a fur around her shoulders. The world outside was unrecognizable. The snow had reshaped everything, smoothing the sharp edges of the landscape into soft, rolling curves. The sky was a pale, clear blue, and the sun glittered off the snow like a million scattered diamonds.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed.

“It’s dangerous,” he said. “But yes. It’s beautiful.”

He turned to look at her, and something shifted in his expression. He reached out, hesitating for just a moment, before tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. The gesture was so tender, so careful, that Margaret felt her eyes sting.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re crying.”

She touched her cheek, surprised to find it wet. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

Elias pulled her gently into his arms. She pressed her face against his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath her ear. His arms wrapped around her, enveloping her completely, and for the first time in her life, she felt like she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

“I was so scared,” she whispered. “When I got off that wagon. I was so scared of what you would be.”

“I know.”

“And instead I found…”

“What?”

She pulled back to look at him. His face was open, waiting, hopeful.

“Safety,” she said. “I found safety.”

Elias kissed her forehead, a gesture so reverent it made her chest ache. “You’ll always have that here. I promise you.”