"You'll change the names."
"I'll change the names. The mountain can keep its own."
He started walking again, slower, matching her careful gait. "I don't know how to do this," he admitted, and the admission cost him something she could hear. "Whatever this is. I know how to dig people out of snow. I know how to live alone until the season ends and the wildflowers pretend nothing happened. I don't know how to ask a woman who lives out of suitcases to come back up the mountain when the roads are open and the excuse of weather is gone."