Author's Notes: It's been over four years since my last update. I am so sorry! I had started writing chapter four pretty quickly after posting chapter three, but I struggled with this couple a lot. Liza and Ephraim are both among my favorite characters, but Liza is a much stronger character than Ephraim and he's one of the less used characters, if not the least used, in the movies. I had to feel him out a lot, and so I hope I did okay.

Chapter Four

Liza stood on the porch outside of the Pontipee house, awkwardly trying to keep herself wrapped in her blanket as she tried to sweep off the light dusting of snow that managed to accumulate under the protection of the roof. It was a mundane task—in a few hours there would be more, and it was too cold for anyone to do much but go outside, sweep it off, and go back in. Milly and the men went outside for chores and to feed the animals, but the girls, for the most part, stayed inside.

Day in and day out, all the weather did was continue to blizzard. The girls made pies and read to each other while Milly helped the boys on the farm. Dorcas went out for about fifteen minutes every day, bundled in a couple of blankets. She didn't even bother trying to hide it anymore that she and Benjamin talked almost every day, but she never told anyone what they talked about. Ruth had sewn a few blankets over the past month but they'd seemed to disappear and Liza had a good idea who they'd gone to. She'd seen Ruth talking to Caleb out the window or on the porch a few times, and on occasion Alice and Gideon as well.

When she finished sweeping, Liza stayed outside in spite of the cold and watched the snowfall. At a calmer pace, it would be peaceful and beautiful. But now… The sharp wind stung her face. The snow she stared at trapped her, kept her from her parents, forced her to live in a small house with six other girls who, while some of her closest friends, were driving her crazy. And in a few minutes the snow would drive her back into that house, where Ruth's cheery disposition and Sarah's tendency to take everything personally would make her feel incredibly moody. She'd spent the last two months cooped up in that house, and just a few days ago the girls had gotten into a fight that Liza knew she was at least partly to blame for. But she couldn't help it. She needed to have an outlet for the frustrations she had.

Just as she was about to turn back towards the house, a figure approaching the house from the corner of her eye caught her attention. It was Ephraim, the fifth-born of the seven Pontipee brothers, carrying a pile of firewood up to the house. He looked surprised to see her; their contact had been minimal. She'd made sure that they saw each other on her terms, and because it had been awhile since she'd felt like pouring water on him, they hadn't seen each other for several weeks.

"Hello," he greeted cautiously, that shy smile appearing on his face. It was the same smile she'd fallen for at the barn raising, but it meant nothing to her now.

She returned the greeting in a bit of a stony voice, and started to turn back towards the house. "I was just going back inside."

"Do you have enough wood for the fire? I mean… for the house?" he called out, halting her steps.

"Just put that in the stock and if we need some then we can get it."

"Liza…"

She turned back to him fully. "Listen. I'm not talking to you. I know what's been going on with Dorcas and Benjamin, and Ruth and Caleb, and even Alice and Gideon. That's not going to happen with us.

Again Liza turned back to the house, she almost got to the door when two words stopped her.

"I'm sorry."

She turned back to him again, setting the broom against the house and wrapping she shawl tighter. The look on his face was sincere, ashamed, and even… guilt ridden. All of that on such an innocent looking face.

"I believe you," she replied after a minute. "But that doesn't change anything."

She saw his guilty expression dissolve into sadness as she turned and went into the house. He'd caused this, he could deal with the repercussions.

Women.

Ephraim glared at Benjamin as the brothers ate together around the small campfire. Why did Dorcas talk to Benjamin every day, smile and laugh with him, when Liza was so determined to not even see Ephraim? They were guilty of the same thing, had done the exact same thing. Where was the difference?

Benjamin looked startled at his younger brother's glare. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Ephraim lied, but he couldn't keep the annoyance from his voice. He'd never been a good liar. Pretty quickly all of his brothers were looking at him strangely.

"I'm just sick of living in our barn," Ephraim explained, deciding that since he was sick of eating and sleeping with the livestock, he wasn't lying and his brothers should at least believe him on that.

"Well, why are you glaring at me for that? We're all here because we're all guilty," Benjamin defended himself a bit testily.

"Exactly," Ephraim muttered.

The older brother raised his eyebrows but said nothing, putting his empty dish down and getting up. "I'm going to go make sure there's enough wood in the pile for the night.

"I checked before dinner, it's full," Gideon said. "Guess the girls didn't need much today."

"No, I, uh, stocked it up about an hour ago," Daniel cut in with a small cough. At everyone's stare, he shrugged. "What?"

"It was Ephraim's day to stock the wood pile," Caleb answered.

"Which I did do," Ephraim threw in immediately.

"Yeah, well, I noticed it was starting to get a little low…"

"And you saw Ephraim talking to Liza when he stocked it, so you hoped it might work for you," Frank stated.

Again, Daniel shrugged. "The girls just needed some firewood, that's all."

"So I take it Liza wasn't very open about talking to you," Benjamin said, continuing his walk towards the front door. He passed the corner stable and stopped, staring down at the ground.

"Something wrong?" Caleb asked innocently; Ephraim realized Ben was staring down at the spot where Caleb slept.

"Where did you get all of those extra blankets?"

"Extra blankets?!?" Frank demanded as everyone got up to see.

Ephraim peered over Daniel's shoulder, seeing seven blankets crumpled together surrounding a pillow. Milly had given them each two blankets, and while Caleb had managed to acquire a third one from her, none of them had received anymore since then.

"They just… uh, you know, appeared… Okay, Ruth gave them to me."

"Are you serious?" Gideon exclaimed. "How long have you been getting these?"

"A couple of weeks."

What followed was a rather loud power struggle between the brothers to get the extra blankets. Gideon managed to sneak away with one without being noticed by the others, who all spent about ten minutes in a rather childish tug of war. Ephraim went to "bed" that night scowling as he tucked himself under his two blankets, praying for spring to come quickly and end it—all of it.

That night Liza dreamed of the dance at the barn-raising. The dream replayed every moment of that dance, every partner she'd had that day and how she'd reveled in Ephraim's arms.

So when, at the en of the dance, she jumped into Frank's arms, Liza jerked awake. It was true--she had jumped into Frank's arms at the barn-raising dance, and Sarah into Ephraim's, but it hadn't taken long for them to switch. Ephraim had a personality that had appealed to her. He was sweet and caring, which she hadn't expected from a backwoodsman. She loved how she felt when he put his arms around her--safe and protected.

None of the suitors she'd had before had done that for her. Of course, many of them just wanted a woman before all the available ones were taken. Women were rare in these parts, and so the men were desperate to find themselves a wife. She knew her pa was going to settle her down with someone. The barn-raising had given her hope, as Ephraim had done what none had done before him--he made her feel special.

Apparently she was too special. Any warm feelings she'd had towards Ephraim disappeared the night he kidnapped her. Being in his arms terrified her. The fright and trauma went away over times--the boys had never attempted to do anything else. There was no need to fear them anymore, but the anger and hurt remained.

Now she was angry that she had dreamed about that special day. She'd dreamed about it before, immediately after, when nearly the whole town became anti-Pontipees, and Liza secretly daydreamed about marrying Ephraim, about what getting away from that town and what life with Ephraim would be like.

She'd never pictured that being up here would bore her so much. She'd wanted away from the townspeople, away from their prejudices and away from all of those suitors. Unfortunately, being away from all of that also meant being away from her parents. And up here, with the boys taking care of all the farm chores and with the same people for company every minute, left her with nothing to do.

Liza tried to go back to sleep, but it eluded her. She tossed and turned a couple of times before giving up entirely. What was there to do so late at night, with no one to talk to and only Plutarch's Lives for reading material? If someone tried reading it aloud again she might just take it outside and bury it in the snow.

Finally, as the sun just began to peak at the lands from the furthest mountaintop, Liza grabbed her blanket and slowly made her way to the window. The room faced the southeast. In an hour or so, the sun would be up. Another day of house chores, cooking, reading and snow. She watched what she could see of the snow falling, surprised that it seemed to be coming down peacefully. She'd watched the blizzard-like conditions for nearly tow months, but this was actually beautiful.

She peered down at the barn, where the six brothers were sleeping. Ephraim had apologized, which she supposed meant something. But it was his fault she was going to be stuck up here until spring. The pass wouldn't open for several more months, and by then she might have just gone completely insane.

But if they were all going to be up there together for seven more moths, she might as well learn to accept it, she realized. What was done was done and couldn't be changed. Even if Martha and Sarah would have none of it and continued to be disapproving didn't mean she had to be. It wouldn't be sudden, but Liza knew she had to let go of her anger. She looked back at Dorcas and wondered how she had been able to release it all so quickly, and above that, spend time with her kidnapper and rebuild what they'd started.

As she thought about it, it occurred to Liza that of the six girls, Dorcas had adjusted to the situation the best, and was not only surviving here but actually living here and enjoying it. Dorcas was happy up here, and for as long as Liza had anger and resentment and hurt, she would not be. With seven months stretching out before her, Liza realized that how that time would be for her was her choice.

For the most part, Ephraim thought as he started up a small fire, he had adjusted to being cold. His toes, however, screamed their protest at the never ending cold they felt. He could get them warm for a few minutes before having to venture outside for the chores. The pace of the snowfall had lightened a bit, but only deceptively. It wouldn't last. The only way he could survive the rest of this winter was to squash hope with fact.

With that lingering thought in his mind, Ephraim nodded greeting to his brothers as they joined him around the fire. He wasn't usually the first up, but they'd all had their rough nights so it wasn't unexpected. He was silent as they ate, thankful none of them bugged him about it, if they even noticed. He knew he would always be the quiet one in the family. His silence this morning, however, was spurned by a shame at the thoughts he'd spent the night awake with.

After Adam had taken off for the hunting lodge, the other brothers had all discussed it and decided they needed to stay, to mend things with Millie, to make things up to the girls wherever possible, and to take care of the farm. The girls were not farmers, and this was Millie's first winter up here. They were needed here, and once that had been decided, it had never again been mentioned, but last night Ephraim's thoughts had been with his oldest brother, sleeping in warm bed by a hot fire. They'd all worried for Adam's safety, of course, and a large portion of Ephraim's desire to take off for the lodge was to be sure that Adam was well. He couldn't deny there was more to it; he was sick of the cold, of sleeping next to a horse, of being so close to the woman he loved and feeling her hatred for him. Taking refuge at the lodge with Adam sounded like a welcome reprieve, an escape he craved more and more. How could he tell his brothers what he wanted to do, especially now that Millie was pregnant?

He picked at his food, knowing he'd have to eat it all eventually to have the strength to do his chores. His brothers were also slow to eat this morning, the mood among everyone glum. Ephraim had just taken his first real bite when the barn door opened. Everyone looked over in surprise, which for Ephraim turned to astonishment when Liza walked in. She had a blanket wrapped around herself, but half of her skirt was drenched from walking through the snow.

The men all stood. She halted in the door, squared her shoulders and cleared her throat. She stared at Ephraim until the others took the hint and left, not a word passing between them.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked her.

"I came to talk to you."

Confusion filled Ephraim's expression. "I thought you said--"

"I know what I said, but things are a bit different now."

"Different? Different how?"

Liza took in a deep breath. "I said that knowing you were sorry, hearing you apologize, didn't change anything, and yesterday that was true. Today... I'm tired of being angry and miserable. So I'm going to forgive you."

Ephraim kicked at the dirt uncomfortably. "I'm not sure it works like that."

Liza shrugged, a smile tugging at her lips. "Sure it does. Can I join you for breakfast?"

He gestured for her to sit, and when she had done so, he sat down next to her. They didn't talk as they ate, but the silence felt comfortable between them. When they were done, and put their dishes on the ground, she smiled over at him.

"This is much better, isn't it?"

"You're really not angry anymore?" It was too much to hope for.

"I thought letting it go would be hard, but once I'd decided to, it left. It felt pretty freeing, and now we can be friends." Her smile remained as she stood. "I'll try to bring you and your brothers a pie or two for lunch."

All thoughts of joining Adam at the lodge gone, Ephraim felt warmth spread all the way down through his toes.

TBC

Next chapter: Frank and Sarah! Don't forget to leave a review! Thanks!