“I expected…”
“What?”
He hesitated.
“A different person.”
Eleanor smiled faintly.
“I suppose I expected a different man.”
The crowd became quiet.
Nobody spoke to Silas Kane that way.
Nobody.
But instead of anger, something unexpected happened.
Silas almost smiled.
Almost.
The ride to his ranch was quiet.
Very quiet.
Normally, Silas appreciated silence.
But sitting beside Eleanor in the wagon, he found himself noticing every small thing.
The way she watched the mountains.
The way she held herself steady over rough ground.
The way she did not ask unnecessary questions.
Most people filled silence because they were uncomfortable.
Eleanor seemed to understand it.
After an hour, she finally spoke.
“Why did you choose me?”
Silas looked ahead.
“What?”
“Your advertisement.”
She glanced at him.
“You could have chosen many women.”
Silas tightened his grip on the reins.
“I didn’t choose you.”
Her eyebrows lifted.
“You didn’t?”
“You answered.”
A small smile appeared on her face.
“That sounds like something a man says when he doesn’t want to admit he was hoping someone would.”
Silas looked at her.
And for a moment, he had no answer.
Because she was right.
When they arrived at the cabin, Eleanor stepped down and looked around.
It was beautiful.
Wild.
Remote.
But lonely.
The cabin was strong.
The land was breathtaking.
But there was no sign that anyone had ever truly lived there.
No flowers.
No decorations.
No warmth.
Just survival.
Eleanor looked back at Silas.
“You don’t live here.”
He frowned.
“I do.”
“No.”
She looked at the cabin.
“You exist here.”
Those words hit him harder than he expected.
Because they were true.
The first weeks were difficult.
Silas did not know how to be married.
He knew how to build fences.
How to hunt.
How to protect.
But he did not know how to let someone close.
Eleanor noticed.
She noticed he always stood near doors.
She noticed he never talked about Rebecca.
She noticed he apologized whenever he laughed too loudly.
And slowly, she began understanding something.
Silas was not cold.
He was afraid.
One night, a terrible storm trapped them inside.
Snow hit the windows.
The fire struggled against the wind.
Eleanor sat near the fireplace reading.
Silas watched her from across the room.
“You’re not what I expected.”
She looked up.
“Neither are you.”
He almost smiled.
“Everyone thinks I’m difficult.”
“Are you?”
“Yes.”
Eleanor laughed softly.
The sound surprised him.
“What?”
“You answered too quickly.”
Silas looked away.
For the first time in years, he felt embarrassed.
“I lost someone.”
The room became quiet.
“My wife.”
Eleanor closed the book.
“You loved her.”
“Yes.”
“And you think loving again would betray her.”
Silas looked at her.
“How did you know?”
“Because people who have stopped caring don’t build walls.”
A long silence followed.
Then Silas whispered:
“I don’t know how to do this.”
Eleanor’s voice softened.