"I could dna bring masel' tae like the man—a better officer you could dna find, but he was as crab bit as an auld witch. Noo, there was a mannie wi gey few pleasantries aboot him. Yon yin had a glower that wad frichten a magistrate."

"But you would have overlooked sour looks, I expect, for Cora," Elizabeth pointed out, smiling both at his easy pragmatism and the way it suited his language, so broad and throaty, r's rolled and t's swallowed with a distinct Scots hiccup. It would have set her own brow on high a few months ago, but she had lost many of those preconceptions that she brought with her from England.

"Aye, and muny times ower, for her sake."

When Elizabeth had had her fill she listened quietly with the empty bowl in her lap, asking questions now and then but mostly content to let Robbie's memories take her along with him.

"And she brought a fine son into the world, and he grew up into a fine man, and noo he's yer own. But here ye sit, lass, and while I'm pleased tae hae your company, I'm wonderin' where he is, that new gudeman of yours, and why he's sent ye into the bush this way. Bears just said there was trouble."

For all his blushes, there was a keen intelligence to Robbie MacLachlan and Elizabeth thought he would see through partial truths quite easily. It was clear to her that Nathaniel trusted this man implicitly, and beyond that there was something about him which set her at ease. He was looking at her now with a quiet expectation, good humor and understanding on his broad features.

"There is a dispute," she began. "About some property, and who has a right to it. It belongs to me, and now to us, but there is someone else who believes he has a prior claim. Nathaniel is in Albany, to resolve the question."

"But he was worrit for ye, otherwise he wa dna hae sent ye awa' from him."

She nodded. "The other party is fairly insistent on his claim."

"A claim tae ye, or the lan'?"

"Both," she said.

He grinned. "Aye, wed. He's no' daft. There's nae truth to his claim?"

"I have legal title and I am legally wed," Elizabeth said. "But he will not accept either as truth."

Robbie shook his head. "There's nane sae blind as he wha' winna see."

Bears had looked up from his work; Elizabeth felt his attention on her and sent a look his way, but he was not ready to speak.

"This person has threatened me with a warrant to appear before the magistrate in Albany," Elizabeth concluded. "And as I did not care to be forced, here I am."

Robbie MacLachlan's anger had a color all its own, a deeper, more vibrant red that flowed down to mottle the soft flesh of his neck.

"Forced?" he said very softly. "No, I'll no' accept that. And neither wad Nathaniel."

"He didn't," Elizabeth agreed. "It was unpleasant."

"Aye, lass, that I can wed imagine. Who is the blaggart?"

Runs-from-Bears cleared his throat. "Irtakohsaks," he said.

Robbie started at this name, turning away from Elizabeth.

"Irtakohsaks? Cat—Eater?" he asked, incredulous. "Then I mun take it back, he is bluidy daft bugger, is Cat—Eater." His color flared. "Ye'll excuse my rough tongue, lass. I've been too long wi' only masel' for company. But Cat—Eater! And it canna be other than Hidden Wolf he's wantin'."

Bears nodded.

"Cat—Eater," Elizabeth echoed. "Is that Richard's Kahnyen’keháka name? I've never heard it before."

"And you won't use it to his face, not unless you've got a musket primed in your hand," said Bears with one of his rare grins.

"Cat—Eater. You wa dna think it tae look at him, wad ye, the cool that he's become. Awed, I'll hae the tale in peace this e'en, but I'm sorry tae say I hae work tae do." He stood with a great groan. "Ye've been four days i' the bush, as I under stan it, and I'll miss ma guess if ye wa dna like some hot water and a wee bit o' time tae yersel'."

Elizabeth paused. "Hot water?"

He nodded solemnly. "Oh, aye. I see Bears kept the best for a surprise. Come this way, my dear, and see. And bring your things, ye'll have need o' them."

* * *

The cabin was built not onto the side of the mountain, Elizabeth realized as soon as she stepped in past the great pelt at the door, but into it. The room she found herself in was very small, and practically empty; a small barrel, some dried meat and other foods hanging from rafters, pelts stretched on racks, but otherwise no sign of habitation. No place to sit or sleep at all, no hearth. But there was a great wooden door of an unusual shape, carved to fit the natural opening in the wall of rock. Robbie gave it a push, and it swung silently inward. Then he ducked and disappeared inside. There was some rumbling, followed by a spark of light which grew into a steady small flame in the open doorway. Robbie's head and shoulders appeared, a small lantern of pierced tin in one hand. He gestured her forward, his color flushing bright.

Elizabeth followed him gamely through a chain of small caves crowded with his things, the tools of his trade, primarily, but also less expected items: a small bookcase, filled to bursting; an open box filled with seashells Elizabeth looked again, unwilling to believe her eyes, but there they were; and hung on one rock wall, a small but exquisite oil painting of a horse in a peeling gilt frame. She saw these things as the small circle of light bobbed past with Robbie's step, and then they disappeared again into the dark. Ahead of them was the persistent sound of dripping water, and a heavy, mineral—laden smell. Elizabeth could not see far ahead of herself, for Robbie's great expanse of back blocked the way. There were a number of natural chambers, some empty, and some set up as living or storage space. He showed her one with a narrow cot which she could use for her own, and then moved on to the next.