Nathaniel pulled up a chair. "More scared than hurt. Moncrieff, it's good to see you in one piece."

"Angus has just been telling us of his escapades," Hawkeye said, rubbing his eyes.

"Aye, well, there's no shortage of them. We've had a few of our own," said Nathaniel. "I reckon I missed the story of what deprived us of your company in Montréal, so sudden like."

"No mystery there." Moncrieff put down his tankard with a thump. "The Pembroke came into port a few days ago with a letter for the Governor from Carryck. The two are well acquaint', ye see. As soon as he learned that the earl has an interest in my welfare, the governor ordered my release," said Moncrieff. "And no' a minute too early."

"He's got a mighty long reach, your Earl of Carryck," said Nathaniel.

Robbie snorted into his tankard. "No' lang enough. The laird might ha' put in a word for us while he was at it."

Moncrieff narrowed one eye and leaned across the table. "Aye, Rab. And so he would have, but he didna ken, did he? And it's no' like I left ye there to hang, is it?"

"It was Iona wha got us out," said Rob.

"But it was I wha sent Pickering your way."

Rab's jaw worked thoughtfully. "For that, we're endebted tae ye, Angus."

"So we are," agreed Hawkeye.

"Weel, then." Moncrieff grinned at the Bonners over the edge of his tankard. "Perhaps ye'll change your minds and sail hame wi' me to Carryck."

Hawkeye laughed. "You never give up, I'll grant you that, Moncrieff. But your business is done and so is ours. We'll be going home to Lake in the Clouds as fast as we can."

"Amen!" Robbie slapped the table with the flat of his hand. "Speak up, Angus, do ye ken a ship for us, or no?"

Moncrieff tugged on a long ear. "I do," he said. "Listen and I'll tell ye."

Nathaniel found Elizabeth sitting under the transom windows with Squirrel's head bedded in her lap. His daughter was deeply asleep, looking so much like the infant that she once had been that Nathaniel stopped in surprise. She smelled of herbs unfamiliar to him, but bitter and clean. When he touched her face she drew a hitching breath in her sleep and turned her head away. Nathaniel picked her up and settled her on the captain's bed, pausing to draw the blanket over her.

"She worries me," Elizabeth said softly behind him.

"Fever?" Nathaniel put a hand on his daughter's cheek.

"No," Elizabeth said. "It's not that."

"More adventure than she counted on. High time to get her home." With a sigh Nathaniel sat down next to Elizabeth and put an arm around her. "Where is Curiosity?"

"Sleeping. She worries me, too."

He tugged on the long plait that hung over Elizabeth's shoulder. "Curiosity is strong," he said, but got only a reluctant nod in return.

"Should we send for Pickering's surgeon after all?"

"No," Elizabeth said. And then, more thoughtfully, "Not yet."

"Bears could slip over to the Isis and have him here in ten minutes."

"Runs-from-Bears isn't here. He's gone back across the river to the Indian camps."

"What?" Hannah stirred and Nathaniel lowered his voice. "Why would he do that?"

Elizabeth was studying the shape of her own hands; it was a sign he knew well. "I'm not sure."

"But you've got an idea, Boots. I can see that without being told."

She met his gaze. "Hannah asked him to go."

He stared at her hard, and she only stared back.

"I don't know what errand she sent him on, Nathaniel, or I would tell you. Will went with him, that is all I can say."

Nathaniel stood to get a better view of the river. The sun was almost down, sending a cloak of reds and yellows over the water. On the other shore cook fires flickered in the dusk. Runs-from-Bears had gone off without a word. He could feel the shape of some new trouble, but he could not put a name to it.

"Maybe I should go after them."

"He said to tell you not to worry."

There was a stirring from the babies' basket. Nathaniel walked to the other side of the room and watched as the twins woke, Lily quite quickly and Daniel with less urgency. Their smells were a comfort: the sweetness of their sweat, milky breath, the tang of wet winding clothes. For as long as he lived they would need his care and guidance, and he would do his best to give it. He lifted Lily up to tuck her into the crook of his arm, and she stretched and turned against him. Hannah had once been a child like this, her wants simple and predictable; she had come to him when she needed something.

"The best you can do for Hannah right now is to get us on a boat home."

Surprised, he turned toward Elizabeth. "And you accuse me of reading your mind."

She lifted one shoulder, a reluctant smile flickering. "Perhaps it's a talent that can be learned."

He said, "There's a packet sailing tomorrow for Boston."

The look of pure joy and relief on her face was worth whatever the passage would cost.

"You're pleased." He sat down beside her.

"Oh, yes," Elizabeth said, holding out her arms for Lily. "I am very pleased, indeed. An American ship?"

Nathaniel passed the baby over as he told her the little he knew of the Providence and its captain.