A Girl of White Winter. Barb Hendee

Raven,” I said.

      His dark eyes scanned my face. “Good night.”

      Closing the door, I was relieved to be alone.

      In spite of the fact that the wagon contained no source of heat, I couldn’t resist slipping out of my dress—as I had been wearing it for three days—and crawling between the blankets in nothing but my shift.

      Raven’s blankets were warm, and the bed was surprisingly soft. I gave one more thought to his lack of comfort up on the roof, and then I fell asleep.