Chapter 9
Eleanor had not slept. She sat motionless in the kitchen chair as the first pale light of dawn crept through the window, turning the room from shadow to soft gray.
Nora’s fever had broken without warning, happening so suddenly that Eleanor had not believed it.
One moment, the child’s skin had burned beneath Eleanor’s palm, and in the next, a faint coolness bloomed across her forehead and cheeks.
Her shallow, rapid breathing had slowed and deepened into the steady rhythm of true rest, so that for the first time in countless hours, Nora finally relaxed, her body limp with relief.
For her part, however, Eleanor’s arms were as stiff as iron, her back aching from the unforgiving chair, but still, she did not move. She hardly dared to breathe for fear of disturbing the child.
Levi slept deeply beside her, his head tipped back, mouth slightly parted.
His hand rested on the armrest of her chair, having settled there sometime during the night, close enough that his fingers brushed the edge of her sleeve, sending a flutter to the pit of her stomach.
The sight of him there, trusting enough to sleep while she kept watch over his daughter, made her heart twist.
Through the window, she watched the light strengthen, painting the mountains beyond.
“This is what it would feel like if this relationship were real, if I had not predicated the arrangement on pretext and convenience, and if Levi’s only desire were not to be alone,” she thought.
If things were real, she would adopt Nora into her heart as her own child, and Levi would see her as more than a glorified caretaker.
He would trust her, and in time, she would make the house into a home, full of warmth and love.
If things were real, Levi would look at her and believe he was not alone.
The thought cracked something open inside her chest.
She had held this man’s daughter through a raging fever.
She had sat at his table and heard his confession.
She had begun to feel the stirrings of something warm and dangerous between them.
And none of it was built on her real name.
The lie sat at the center of everything, and she knew that, at some point, everything would crumble around it.
Eleanor pressed her face into Nora’s soft brown curls, breathing in the faint scent of fever-sweat and chamomile. Silent tears slipped down her cheeks, held tight in her throat so she would not wake either of them.
It was too late to tell them the truth. It was not that she did not want to tell them, but that she was terrified of losing them.
She could barely stomach the thought of how Levi might look at her once he learned of her falsehood.
A sob bubbled in her throat, which she choked down as a new torrent of tears stained her cheeks.
Nora slept most of the day, waking only in the late afternoon, hungry and bright-eyed, reaching immediately for Eleanor with both arms. The child was herself again, babbling away as if nothing had ever happened.
For his part, Levi had stayed close all day without hovering.
And when his daughter seemed to be out of the woods, he busied himself by fixing a loose board on the porch step, the steady ring of his hammer carrying through the open window.
Then, in the evening, he went to split wood in the yard, his axe rising and falling effortlessly.
Eleanor appreciated that he trusted her enough to take care of Nora, but he remained within earshot, just in case they should need him.
As the sun began to set, Eleanor bathed Nora gently in a shallow basin, dressed her in a clean nightgown, and fed her some bone broth for dinner, knowing her stomach would not tolerate anything heavier.
The little girl ate with an eager appetite, making a mess of her cheeks and giggling whenever Eleanor wiped it away.
It seemed the new nightgown would not stay clean for long, but Eleanor did not mind a bit of extra laundry if it meant the little girl was feeling better.
That evening, after Nora had been put to bed, Eleanor stood at the counter drying plates, the simple motions of household work grounding her after a long day.
The kitchen smelled of supper and woodsmoke, a warm combination that soothed her soul, letting her breathe easier than she had the night before.
As she began putting away the cutlery, she heard the creak of the porch step and turned as Levi appeared in the doorway. He stood there for a long moment, watching her with those steady blue eyes. Something deep and unspoken moved across his features before he spoke. “Thank you,” he said quietly.
Eleanor set down the spoon she was holding and cocked her head slightly. “You have nothing to thank me for. Nora is incredibly resilient and strong.”
“She is strong because you were here,” Levi replied, then crossed the kitchen in three strides.
Without warning, he cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs caressing her skin in such a way that it stole her breath away and made her forget whatever she was about to say.
His eyes were bright with conviction before he leaned forward and kissed her.
Eleanor’s heart skipped a beat. Her mind went blank as Levi’s mouth consumed hers with passion.
Overwhelmed by the heat blazing through her, Eleanor’s hands came up and gripped his wrists, trying to ground herself.
More than that, she wanted to anchor him against her.
She wanted the moment to last a lifetime.
She kissed him back, the ache of the long night and the weight of her secret forgotten, if only for a few heartbeats, because in that moment, there was only the press of his mouth, the roughness of his palms, and the sheer joy of being wanted by another.
But then it all came apart. Levi pulled away, dropping his hands as if burned. He stepped back, his jaw tightening. “I should not have done that.”
Eleanor’s breath came in shallow gasps. She spoke without thought, desperate. “You are my husband.”
He looked at her then, but whatever he was feeling, he clearly did not want her to see it, so he put on a mask of composure. Yet there was still a storm of longing, doubt, and something deeper in his eyes. He turned abruptly and walked out through the kitchen door.
Eleanor found herself standing alone, palms pressed flat against the counter to keep herself upright.
Her heart hammered against her ribs as if trying to escape.
She knew that the lie she had told sat beneath everything like a crack in the foundation of a newly built home.
It was small for now, but it would widen with the first frost. She closed her eyes, still feeling the warmth of his hands on her face and the taste of the kiss she did not deserve.