Not about building the cabin.
About coming here.
Three months earlier, she had still believed her life was going to be ordinary.
She had been married to Daniel Morgan for six years.
They lived in a small town where everyone knew everyone else's business.
Daniel had worked at a ranch.
He was not rich, but he was dependable.
Or so Eliza had believed.
Then one evening, Daniel had returned home with news.
The ranch owner had sold the property.
Daniel had lost his job.
Two weeks later, he was gone.
Not dead.
Not missing.
Gone.
He had left with another woman and taken most of their savings.
Eliza had discovered the truth from a neighbor.
There had been no apology.
No explanation.
Just an empty drawer where their money had been.
And then she learned she was pregnant.
For three days, she had cried.
On the fourth day, she stopped.
She sold almost everything she owned.
A small wagon.
Two horses.
A few pieces of furniture.
She kept her mother's sewing box, her wedding ring, and a small silver locket.
Then she bought a piece of land far from town.
It was cheap because everyone said the land was worthless.
Too cold.
Too isolated.
Too difficult to reach.
That was exactly why Eliza wanted it.
Nobody could tell her to leave.
Nobody could pity her.
Nobody could ask where her husband was.
She would build a home.
Even if it took her entire winter.
Even if she had to do it alone.
Especially if she had to do it alone.
That was how the cabin began.
And that was how Cole Ryder entered her life.
But Eliza would soon discover that the handsome stranger was not simply a wandering cowboy.
Cole owned thousands of acres.
Several ranches.
A cattle operation.
A sawmill.
And more money than most people in the territory could imagine.
Yet he had spent years deliberately avoiding the wealthy society that expected him to marry, expand his fortune, and become another powerful landowner.
He preferred horses.
Open country.
And silence.
He had never expected to meet a pregnant woman building a cabin alone.
And he certainly had not expected to admire her.
But admiration was not the only thing bringing him back.
There was something else.
Something about Eliza's land.
Something someone else wanted badly.
And someone was willing to do almost anything to take it.
The storm arrived that evening.
Snow began falling shortly after sunset.
By midnight, the world outside the cabin was almost invisible.
Eliza sat beside the small iron stove, wrapped in a wool blanket.
She had managed to cover most of the roof.
Not all.
Wind pushed snow through one unfinished corner.
She stared at it.
Then at the fire.
Then at the wooden cradle she had built from leftover boards.
She placed one hand over her stomach.
"You picked a difficult mother," she whispered.
The baby kicked.
Eliza smiled.
"I know."
A loud knock struck the door.
She froze.
Nobody should have been there.
Another knock.
Then a man's voice.
"Eliza!"
She knew that voice.
Cole.
She opened the door only a few inches.
Cole stood outside covered in snow.
His horse was behind him.
"What are you doing here?"
"Checking whether you're alive."
"I'm fine."
He looked past her.
"Your roof isn't."
"I'm aware."
"You'll freeze."
"I've survived worse."
Cole studied her face.
Then he held up a bundle.
"I brought supplies."
"I didn't ask."
"No."
He pushed the bundle toward her.
"That's why they're called supplies and not payment."
She hesitated.
Finally, she took them.
Flour.