One day Mrs. Reed asked Birdie about Annie’s wedding clothes and Birdie stopped in her tracks and frowned as if she were trying to remember. “You had best ask my brother Gabriel,” she said finally. “He’s right behind you.”

Later Mrs. Reed complained to Ma that Birdie was rude, but that was only because she had jumped right out of her skin and then flushed the color of plums when it turned out Gabriel was miles away hauling timber. Ma only furrowed her brow at Birdie. There wasn’t even a talk about common respect and dignity in the face of provocation. Ma was tired of questions herself.

That first night they were home, the day of the flood, Ma had wanted Gabriel and Annie to stay in the village until the weather settled, but they had gone off, walking ten miles out of their way to get on the other side of the waters and then climbing the mountain from the north side. The next day Gabriel had come back again to help in the village. Not happily, exactly, but as if he had something to prove. He was a man full grown and didn’t need to be reminded of his responsibilities to friends and neighbors.

That very evening Runs-from-Bears came by to talk with Ma and Da, but even that came out lopsided, in Birdie’s view. Uncle Bears wasn’t worried about Annie eloping, but he was concerned about the fact that Gabriel’s half sister and father were both of the Wolf clan, as was Annie. In the Kahnyen’kehàka way of things this was like marrying a sister.

And so that evening after a long day of work that involved wading in cold mud, Da and Daniel went up to Hidden Wolf. For once Birdie didn’t ask to come along, because she knew what was going to happen. The men would sit in a circle around the fire and each of them would talk and tell long complicated stories, and then they would pass the pipe or throw tobacco on the fire and talk some more, and then someone would say, we have no clan mother here, and this is the province of the women.

And everybody would look at Blue-Jay, whose first wife might have been a help if she hadn’t run off and got herself drowned, and whose new wife was plainspoken and wise, but still feeling her way into this new life, and unwilling to be put on the spot. It could go on like that for hours and if not for the flood, maybe days. Gabriel and Blue-Jay and Daniel would sit opposite Runs-from-Bears and Throws-Far and Da, and none of them would ever yawn or look bored.

Birdie wondered if Runs-from-Bears might send to Good Pasture for a clan mother, but Hannah said that it was more likely that Gabriel and Annie would be sent to Good Pasture to make their case before all the elder women. But the trapping season had been cut short by the flood and Gabriel wasn’t going anywhere until he had secured or repaired his lines. He was the head of a family now and it mattered, how many furs he had to sell.

The next morning Da and Daniel came down at sunrise. They let Ma fuss over them and feed them, but then they went to the new graveyard on the far side of the village above the orchards, where the four people who had not gotten out of the way in time were being buried. Birdie went because it was the right thing to do and because she was curious, which embarrassed her, but she owned it anyway.

A few hours later, Gabriel and Runs-from-Bears came too, and they got in their canoes and started looking for things that could be dredged out of the lake. It was the perfect task for Gabriel. He was helping, but at the same time he was too far away to be asked questions about his new bride or his wedding.

All in all Birdie didn’t mind the fact that Gabriel was married. She wouldn’t really be alone until the fall, when Luke and Jennet took the children home for the winter. Even then, Birdie reminded herself, she would have Lily, who needed her help.

And exactly that was the plan. Birdie would make herself indispensable—a word she looked up in Ma’s dictionary—and that would convince the grown-ups that it would be best if she didn’t come back to school this year. Instead, she would move in with Lily and Simon in order to be there whenever Lily needed anything at all.

It was perfectly logical and reasonable. She just had to convince the grown-ups.

When Hannah went out on a call, Birdie went with her and spent that time sweeping mud or washing down walls, scrubbing clothes, toting firewood, pumping endless buckets of water, and most usually, entertaining the children. She ran errands for Curiosity and Ma and anyone else who needed things fetched. She liked it best when somebody sent her down to the village, so she could see for herself how much progress was being made.

The old trading post had already been pulled down and they were just starting to lay the foundation for a new one, which would be larger, with room for things like plows and bathtubs.

Missy O’Brien found this not to her liking at all. “They talk about plain,” she said. “They are mighty good to themselves.”

Birdie heard her say this to Becca LeBlanc outside the Red Dog.

“Well then,” Becca said in her driest tone. “I guess you’ll be going all the way to Johnstown for your buttons and salt.”

Becca could draw blood with the dull side of her tongue. Most people didn’t even notice when they’d been tweaked until five minutes later. She had a high spot on Birdie’s list of grown-ups who could be counted on to teach her something.

Every day, as soon as her errands and chores were done, Birdie ran down to Ivy House to see what she could do for Lily. Sometimes there were other people there—Ma or Da, Hannah or Jennet or Ben or Luke. Neighbors and old friends. Even the nieces and nephews were allowed to come, but only under close supervision. To Birdie’s relief, they were never allowed to visit for very long. Nathan and Henry and Adam thought this was unfair and took every opportunity to argue about it with her.