ANNA AND MILES RODE THEIR HORSES TO THE FARTHEST end of the Leonard land. On the hillside, framed by trees of green and gold, was a small line shack, one of several erected before the turn of the century to accommodate cowboys who needed to take shelter in foul weather. With the grazing lands all fenced, the cabins hadn’t been used in years.
“What’s this?” Miles asked as they reined in their mounts.
Anna told him the history of the line shacks, then slipped to the ground and reached into the saddlebag for the sandwiches she’d packed for them. “Come inside and we’ll eat.” Her heart pounded in her ears as she opened the door.
Early that morning, she’d ridden to the shack by herself. She’d swept it clean of dust and cobwebs. She’d placed a bouquet of colorful dried flowers in a jar in the center of the rickety table. She’d put fresh linens and blankets on the old tick mattress and built a fire in the stove to take away the autumn chill from the dim interior. The room was still warm all of these hours later. She moved inside and waited for Miles to follow.
Miles was leaving Kings Meadow next week. He was going to California to paint. He’d told her he would return in the spring. But would he? It was terrible to think she might never see him again. The ache in her heart was unbearable.
“Anna?”
She turned around. He stood framed in the doorway, the outside light a golden backdrop behind him. She wished she knew what he thought.
“Why are we here, Anna?”
“I love you, Miles,” she whispered, unable to keep those words to herself another moment.
His gaze flicked to the small, inviting bed she’d made for them. Understanding dawned in his eyes. “Anna . . . we can’t do this.”
“I love you and you’re going away.”
“I’ll be back in the spring. I told you.”
She took a step toward him. “What if you don’t return? What if you like California more than Idaho?” She took a quick breath. “What if you meet someone?”
“You’re only seventeen.”
“I’ll be eighteen in the spring.”
Miles closed the distance between them, took the bag that held their sandwiches from her hand and dropped it onto the small table. Then he gathered her into his arms, pulling her close, rubbing his chin against the top of her head. Tears slipped from beneath her closed eyelids and dampened his shirt. She didn’t want him to ever let go.
Say you love me. Say you love me too. Please say it.
Softly, he said, “I’ll only be gone six months, maybe seven. It isn’t so very long.”
It was an eternity.
“Anna, I can’t break Abe’s and Violet’s trust.” He leaned back, then tilted her head with his index finger beneath her chin so their eyes could meet. “I can’t break your trust either.”
“You wouldn’t be break—”
“Maybe you wouldn’t think so today, but one day you would. When you got married. It would matter to you then.”
Tears welled up again, blinding her. What difference would it make once he was her husband? Didn’t he want her?
“Anna . . . don’t think that. You’re wrong.”
“Don’t think what?”
“Believe me. I want you.” His smile was gentle and loving. “But I care for you too much to take you to bed before we’re married.”
Her heart hiccupped. Before? Not if?
His hands moved up to cup the sides of her face. His fingers felt soft against her skin. “Listen to me, Anna. I’m not proposing. Not yet. You’re young. After I’m gone, you might change your mind. You are the one who might meet someone else. I won’t ask you to promise me anything today. We’ll wait and see.”
I won’t change my mind. I won’t.
He hadn’t said he loved her. Not exactly. But the words were implied. He meant to propose to her when he returned. She could hold onto that while she waited for him, while she grew a little older.
Still cupping her face, he leaned down and kissed her for the first time. Her heart galloped in response. The room seemed to spin, and her legs were unwilling to keep her upright. It was more wonderful than she’d dreamed.
He drew back, although not far. When he spoke, his voice sounded gruff. “Come on. We’d better get you home.”
Home for Anna would be wherever Miles was. Didn’t he know that?
He turned, took hold of her by the hand, and drew her outside, into the soft light of the afternoon. When they reached her horse, he held her by the waist until she stepped up into the saddle. She missed the warmth of his hands at once.
“Anna.”
She looked down at him.
“You’ll be thankful for this one day.”
Tears welled in her eyes, and all she could do was nod. There were no words left to be said.