Clara had never seen him up close, but she’d heard him named the way people named wolves.
Elias Crowe. The mountain healer. The hermit. The man who lived above the timberline and came down only when the moon felt like it. The man who, five years ago, had saved Solomon Hale after a logging accident crushed his leg and rot tried to take the rest of him.
In Hawthorne Hollow, everyone knew what that meant.
A life saved became a life owed.
Elias stopped at the altar. He didn’t look at Clara first. His gaze went straight to Solomon’s face.
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