“That's old news,” said Charlie from his spot by the hearth. “I went up there a week ago to tell them.”

Hannah agreed that he had indeed brought them the news, looking not at Charlie but for her brother, whom she finally found where he had inserted himself into the crowd around the stove. Gabriel had all their attention, because—Hannah realized now, and with some disquiet—he was giving them the best news he had to offer, the things he could remember about the letter from Luke that had come just before the storm.

And he had their attention. Jan Kaes, the oldest man in the village now, had hunched his shoulders over and turned his good ear to Gabriel. Horace Greber and the Cameron brothers were listening with their mouths hanging open. Martin Ratz and Praise-Be Cunningham had crossed their arms on their chests, affronted by what they were hearing.

Hannah heard it too: my sister Lily and my brother and Simon Ballentyne and then she walked forward as quickly as she could.

“Gabriel Bonner,” she said in her severest tone.

He looked up at her, big-eyed. “It's only news from Montreal,” he said. “They want to hear about how Lily's an artist and all.”

“Sounds like she's doing more husband hunting than studying,” said Missy Parker, who was not sitting with the men, but examining a keg of nails nearby.

Obediah Cameron grunted. He was forty and single and had bad eyes but was still hopeful of a wife; his brother had got one, after all. He squinted up at Hannah. “You think your Lily will marry up there and we'll never see her again?”

“Well, what else did you expect,” Hannah said, trying for playful and not quite making it. “With Charlie LeBlanc married off, was she supposed to sit around and pine?”

They laughed uneasily and exchanged glances she was not meant to see or understand.

“The boy did right to come tell his news,” said Horace Greber. “Don't you scold him now.” He scratched at the stump of his leg with the stem of his pipe.

“I hope she does find a husband up there in Canada,” said Lizzie Cameron, looking up from the baby at her breast. “There's not enough men to go around as it is, God knows. Didn't Margit Hindle have to go all the way to Albany to find herself a husband?”

Her brother-in-law made faces at that, but Lizzie wasn't bothered.

“Not enough of anything to go around here,” added Charlie.

“If and when Lily marries, you will hear about it, I'm sure,” Hannah said in a calmer tone. “But right now there is no such news.”

Gabriel's eyes blazed defiance. “That's not what Luke says!”

She shot him a warning glance. “Enough, little brother.”

“But—”

She stopped him by reaching over and grabbing him by the ear. Gabriel howled once and hopped until she let him go.

“I was only being neighborly.” He rubbed his ear and scowled up at her, red faced.

Hannah took him by the elbow and turned him toward the door.

Nicholas Wilde stood there, his face as white as milk. Snow covered his bare head and shoulders.

“Why, Nicholas,” said Anna from the counter. “You look plain sick. Set down before you keel over, man.”

He managed a small, tight smile. “It's just coming in from the cold,” he said. “I'll be all right in a minute. It's just the shock of the cold.”

Curiosity looked up from the butter churn when they came through the door and Hannah could almost see the worry that had sat heavy on her shoulders lift and float away. The kitchen smelled of gingerbread and yeast and roasting pork and, underneath it all, the sickly sweet smell of laudanum.

“I'm sorry it took me so long,” she said. What she should say, what she wanted to say, was so much more complicated that Hannah had no words. But it didn't matter, Curiosity was glad to see her.

“Why, child,” she said, catching Gabriel as he launched himself at her. “No need to apologize. Here you are, and ain't the two of you a sight for sore eyes. Don't know who I'd rather see at my door on the shortest day of the year.” She was looking at Gabriel, but talking to Hannah.

“I should have—” Hannah started, and Curiosity held up a palm to stop her.

“Never mind that. You here now. Richard been asking for you.”

“And what about me?” asked Gabriel, tugging on Curiosity's arm. “Did he ask for me?”

“Why don't you set here for a minute and catch your breath before you start with your everlasting questions,” Curiosity said, steering him toward the bench by the hearth.

“I'm not out of breath,” Gabriel said, drawing himself up. “I'm never out of breath.”

“Lord bless you, boy.” Curiosity laughed. “Then let me catch my breath. Set there. Churn some, if you got so much energy needs using up. In a little bit the gingerbread will be coming out of the oven and you can see if I did it right this time.”

“Gingerbread for the Christmas party?” Gabriel drew up, such hopeful expectation in his face that both Hannah and Curiosity laughed out loud.

“Yessir,” Curiosity said. “Yes, indeed, for the party. But I can spare you a taste, I reckon. Just now, though, I got things to talk to your sister about.”

“He can't hold on much longer,” Curiosity said once they were in the hall with the door closed behind them. “Don't hardly know how he made it this far.”