“Tomorrow," he said, his mouth at her ear. "Sleep first."

Elizabeth left him to this family of his that was still a mystery to her, a connection woven not of blood and muscle but common purpose. On her own porch, facing away from the gathering, she found children sleeping wrapped in blankets. She stood for a moment listening to their breathing, and watching the flicker of fireflies. A Kahnyen’keháka woman she did not recognize sat on one of the rocking chairs, nursing an infant.

Inside, Curiosity was stirring the cook pot. Elizabeth took soup and corn bread from her. She could not remember when she had last eaten, but she still felt strangely full, a fist in her belly and her throat closed tight. She took the soup out onto the porch and then the women collected the sleeping children and took them up to the loft, and Curiosity went back to the other cabin.

Elizabeth found Many-Doves and Hannah asleep in her bed. Hannah was fully dressed, her un plaited hair scattered across the pillow. She lay down with them to wait.

From the open window, there was the sound of singing and a water drum and a slow, shuffling step toward the dawn.

Chapter 53

"Mr. Middleton, Billy Kirby here and Claude Dubonnet with him."

Julian squinted up at Curiosity's oldest daughter. "I don't want to see anyone, Daisy."

"Yes, sir, so you said. But I don't think they'll go away on my word."

Daisy blinked at him, her mouth folded in a tight line. Another woman who couldn't tell the difference between a drunken man and one who was working on achieving that state, but had not yet succeeded. Julian reached for his coffee cup, and eyed the brandy bottle on the sideboard.

"Then get your mother to deal with them." He took another swallow and then stabbed halfheartedly at a sausage. "I'm not in the mood for their games this morning."

She stood there still, her face impassive. "My folks are up at Lake in the Clouds," she said patiently. "Chingachgook died at dawn, so I don't expect they'll be down anytime soon."

At the door, Billy Kirby said: "The whole Indian nation is up there, too, to bury the old bastard."

"Billy," said Julian with a sigh. "By God, man, can't you leave me alone? My head hurts as bad as your face looks. Go home and sleep, why don't you, and let them bury their dead."

Dubonnet, face like a pickled egg, cleared his throat. "You were eager enough to send us up there not so very long ago."

"Yes well. I didn't anticipate you'd make a complete muddle of it when I made the suggestion. My error, I suppose."

"We didn't shoot anybody," Kirby said.

Julian lifted up his hands in a gesture of dismissal. "I have no intention of climbing that mountain to watch Nathaniel Bonner thrash you again, Kirby. Even if he does have a more appreciative audience this time—"

"Hawkeye was broke out of the gaol last night. I got an idea that it was your sister who done it."

Julian pulled up short, and then let out a hoarse laugh. "She was always too clever by half. I should have known." He took a harder look at the two men before him. The worse for wear, but dressed and armed as if they were going to war. "Tell me you are going up there to arrest Hawkeye in front of every Mohawk in New—York State."

Billy's jaw worked like a saw. "And your sister, too. Soon as I got enough men together, I'm going up there to do just that."

"By God, you are either the bravest or the stupidest pair I've ever seen. There's not enough men on the continent to pull that off," Julian said. "How long do you think you'll keep the support of the men in the village if you try to arrest my sister? And you've got no proof that it was her, do you?"

Billy jerked the battered tricorn from his head and began to knead it compulsively. "Not exactly. There's Jed McGarrity, but he ain't too talkative this morning."

Julian snorted. "The judge will need more than your suspicions before he'll put a woman in gaol."

Billy's head jerked up, his eyes flaring. "Well, what about you, then? Your word would do the job."

With a quick motion, Julian emptied his coffee cup, and then put it down softly on the table. "Don't count on it."

"Does that mean you ain't coming with us?"

Julian ran a hand through his hair. "I most certainly am not. I don't know why I should worry about the two of you, you are more trouble than you are worth. But let me point out that not only is discretion the better part of valor, it is also a more promising strategy in this little war of yours."

Billy scowled at him. "Talk plain, Middleton."

With a groan, Julian heaved himself out of his chair. "All right, yes. How is this: if you can put a harness on your impatience now and sit on your hurt pride, you will have at least a prayer of getting what you want."

Dubonnet looked thoughtful. "And if we don't?"

Julian shrugged. "If you go up there now, Bonner will gut you and leave you for the crows. Sheriff or not."

* * *

In a great tidal wave of grief that took the summer day and heaved it into a new shape, Nathaniel struggled from task to task until his grandfather was in the ground. Working with his father and Runs-from-Bears, they dug the grave. The faith keeper's songs and prayers provided a rhythm to work by.

It was just over a year since they had buried his mother. Behind him, Nathaniel could sense the shape of her grave. He imagined her as he always did, with her arms held out in welcome. The others were waiting for Chingachgook, too. Those who had gone before: his first son, who had died in battle, the wife who had borne him. Sarah, with the child in her arms. They would welcome Chingachgook, who would walk tall and strong among them. He had gone to this homecoming gladly.