Before he brought the axe down again, Kirk breathed in deeply. Where before he’d found the air cool, he now appreciated its crispness. He gazed around at the evergreen trees holding court about the house, and past them, at the stately Canadian Rockies, clad in the white folds of autumn snow. Beautiful day, he thought, and he knew that his sentiment wouldn’t last.

“You’re stalling,” he told himself. He peered over at the house, at the second-story window on the left, beyond which he knew Antonia still lay in bed. How could a man who’d once battled a Gorn in hand-to-hand combat, who’d by himself piloted a starship into the maw of a machine that devoured entire planets, who’d floated alone in a completely empty universe-how could he be scared to talk with the woman who loved him?

Because it’s not fear stopping me, Kirk knew. It’s guilt.

Kirk brought the blade of the axe down into the stump, then headed back into the house. In the kitchen, left over the low heat, the Ktarian eggs had almost finished cooking. From the far counter, Kirk retrieved the tray he’d already set for Antonia’s breakfast. In addition to a plate, flatware, and napkin, he’d also placed on it a glass of grape juice, a glass of water, and a small vase of larkspur. He set it down beside the heating surface, dished the eggs from the pan onto the plate, then added three slices of toast when they’d done browning.

Before he went upstairs, he walked back out into the living room, where he opened an antique wooden box ornamented with metal fleurs-de-lis. From it, he removed a small, black velvet pouch that contained a gift he’d acquired for Antonia: a golden horseshoe, on the arch of which had been affixed a miniature red rose. To soften the blow, he thought as he returned to the kitchen and set the pouch down beside the breakfast he’d made.

Taking a deep breath, Kirk picked up the tray and carried it back through the living room and then up the stairs. When he reached the second floor, he balanced the tray against the jamb, took hold of the knob, and threw open the bedroom door. Across the room, Antonia looked up at him from where she still lay in the antique four-poster bed Kirk had obtained for the house. Her long dark hair spread on the pillow behind her head like a crown.

“At last,” she said with a wide smile. She fluffed up the pillows behind her and sat up against them. Kirk caught a fleeting glimpse of her bare body before she pulled the sheet up across her chest. “I was wondering how long you were going to be rattling around in that kitchen,” she said. “I’m starving.”

“I’m not surprised,” Kirk commented as he made his way across the room. They had gone to bed before midnight last night, but had stayed up long past, exploring each other’s bodies. “I wanted to get all of this just right,” he said, settling the tray across her lap.

“Ktarian eggs,” Antonia said excitedly, almost singing the words. She peered up at Kirk with an expression of surprise and delight. “When did you…?”

“I brought them with me from Idaho,” Kirk said. They’d come up here to Canada five days ago, wanting to spend some time in the Rockies before the big snows of the winter began.

Antonia picked up a fork and took a bite of the eggs, after which she hummed in appreciation. “Delicious,” she said. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Kirk said. He tried to smile, but felt only one side of his mouth rising. He dreaded what lay ahead.

After Antonia enjoyed another mouthful of the eggs, she looked back up at where he stood, one hand raised to the post at the foot of the bed. “Aren’t you eating?” she asked.

“I’m-no,” Kirk managed to say. “My stomach’s a bit upset.” As soon as he’d decided this morning to speak with Antonia about what had happened, his anxiety had physically unsettled him.

“I’m sorry,” Antonia said. “Do you think you’re getting sick? Can I make you some tea?” She reached as though to take the tray from her lap so that she could get out of bed, but Kirk stopped her.

“No, no, I’ll be fine,” he said. “Have your breakfast.”

Antonia smiled at him, then looked back down at the tray. “What’s this?” she asked, holding up the velvet pouch.

“How did that get there?” Kirk teased, trying to stay positive.

Antonia reached into the pouch and pulled out the horseshoe. “Jim, this is lovely,” she said. She held it out before her, the ends up. “For good luck.”

Again Kirk tried to smile, and again failed to do so convincingly.

“What’s the matter?” Antonia asked. “Does your stomach feel that bad?”

“It’s nothing,” Kirk said.

“Jim, I’ve lived with you for two years now,” she said. “I can tell when something’s bothering you.” She seemed to make an assessment while she looked at him. “It’s not your stomach, though, is it?”

“It’s not just that, no,” Kirk said.

“What is it?” Antonia asked, clearly concerned now.

Kirk pushed off the bedpost and walked across the room to the far corner. When he turned back to face her, he knew that the time had come to tell her. “Antonia,” he said, “Harry Morrow contacted me.”

“Harry Morrow?” she asked, her brow creasing.

“An old friend,” Kirk said. “He’s also the commander in chief of Starfleet.”

Antonia set the horseshoe down on the tray with a loud thump. “And what did Harry want?” she asked flatly.

Realizing that he’d unintentionally put distance between Antonia and him when he’d moved across the room, he walked back to the corner of the bed. “He wanted to tell me that he has a position open for me at Starfleet Headquarters.”

Antonia gazed at him for a long moment without saying anything. Then she lifted the tray from her lap and set it gently down next to her on the mattress. As she reached for her silk robe at the foot of the bed, she said, “You told me that you would never go back to Starfleet.”

“I didn’t think I would,” Kirk said. “But this is strictly a supervisory position, maybe with an opportunity to do some instruction at the academy.”

Antonia stood from the bed and quickly pulled her robe on, as though she didn’t want Kirk to see her naked form. After cinching the belt tightly about her waist, she looked up at him, her pain obvious. “You told me you weren’t going back,” she repeated.

“Antonia, this would be at Starfleet Headquarters, in San Francisco,” he said. “I would wake up every morning in Idaho with you, and go to bed every night with you. Things wouldn’t have to change that much.”

Antonia’s eyes widened. “You’re actually considering taking this position?” she asked.

Kirk glanced down, not wanting to make this any more difficult for either one of them, but knowing that he had to tell her. Looking back up, he said, “I already accepted it.”

“What!?” Antonia said.

Kirk stepped over to her, his arms out. “Antonia,” he said, but she pushed his arms away and raced past him. “Antonia,” Kirk said again, but she did not respond. Instead, she stood beside the upholstered bench in front of the bed, where she’d tossed her clothes last night. She quickly pulled on her socks and underwear, then her blue jeans. Kirk walked over to her and placed his hand on her back. “Antonia- “

“Leave me alone,” she said, and she grabbed her sweater from the bench and marched to the other side of the room. Keeping her back to him, she took off her robe and let it fall to the floor. She tugged her sweater on over her head, then pulled at her long hair to get it through as well.

When finally she looked back over at him, he said, “We won’t have to be apart. You spend a lot of your days with your practice anyway. We could still be together.”

“Tell me,” she said. “When did Harry contact you? When did you accept his offer?”

“Last week,” Kirk admitted. “A few days before we left Idaho.”

Antonia shook her head. “And you waited until we came up here to tell me.” She walked over to the other side of the bed and bent over it toward the tray. “You made sure to make me Ktarian eggs before you decided to tell me,” she said, lifting the plate up with two fingers and dropping it noisily back onto the tray. The grape juice splashed over the rim of its glass. “You made sure to give me a symbol of good luck before you told me.” She picked up the horseshoe and then let it clatter onto the tray. Fixing him with a glare, her voice rising, she said, “You made love with me last night knowing that you would do this to me today.” She shoved her hand beneath the tray and sent it flying across the bed and onto the floor.