“Julia sent me. She made you pancakes and bacon. And she sent a plate for me, too, but she said not to stay too long because sometimes people like quiet mornings on their birthdays.” His smile widened. “But, I mean, it is Saturday. So if you don’t want a quiet morning, I can stay as long as you want.”

“Come in,” I told him, laughing, and I barely felt the soreness anymore. I was full of light. Lee and me in my little cabin. “I’ll warm it up in here,” I said.

“We’ll have an inside picnic.”

“That sounds amazing!”

I piled the logs and crumpled the newspaper, smiling through all of it, and when I turned, Lee had set the tray on the rug by the bed. Two heaping plates and a small pitcher of syrup. Butter in a little dish. A glass of milk. A mug of coffee with cream.

I sat across from Lee on the rug. He was dressed in his pajamas and I was in my nightgown. The room smelled like maple, and the night before was gone.

“Would you like syrup, milady?” Lee asked in a formal, unidentifiable accent, holding the pitcher daintily between two fingers.

“Why yes, good sir,” I said, and he poured, and we ate until our plates were empty, and I felt like a girl from a novel or a movie. I felt like a girl from a different time. And all the while I told myself, Remember this feeling. How perfect this is. Remember Lee’s sweet face and his proper manners. Remember the maple and the salt. Remember the warmth of the coffee in your mouth. The crackling of the fire, the glow of the room in the early morning when it’s just you and Lee and the world is safe.

“Julia told me I should let you relax. And that you don’t have to help with the harvest today. So I can go now and take these back and you can read or draw or just . . . do whatever!”

He stacked the plates and the silverware, set our cups back on the tray. I watched his expression of expectancy, could tell he was hoping I’d say something.

“Or . . . ,” I said. “Maybe you could come back in a little while and we can go exploring.”

He beamed. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

“Julia said to make sure you were sure.”

“I’m sure that I’m sure. Let me get that door for you.”

He slipped out, the tray clutched in his arms. “I’ll be back soon!”