Mr. Bennett paused to clear his throat and shuffle, a little nervously, through the papers before him. The whole room sat forward a little, curious and unsettled, but most of all intrigued.

“‘To Elizabeth Middleton Bonner,'” he read, his voice hoarse now. “‘I hereby bequeath any books from my library that she might like to have, my mule Horace (for they are well suited to each other in temperament), and the sum of five hundred dollars with which to have a schoolhouse built, and further with it a parcel of land of her choosing so long as it is in the village proper. Also to Mrs. Bonner I bequeath an annual sum of one hundred dollars for the maintenance and running of the school and for monies to hire a teacher, for the day she decides she has had enough of teaching. These bequests I make in thanks for the kindnesses she showed my dear departed wife, and in everlasting gratitude for the fact that Mrs. Bonner once broke her promise to marry me.'”

There was a sniffling in the room and a muffled laugh, from Curiosity and then Elizabeth herself. Even Hannah was smiling, truly smiling, which Nathaniel supposed must be a good thing.

Richard Todd had left Elizabeth the one thing she really needed and wanted—freedom and means to do as she wished without depriving the village of a school—but in such terms that it would pain her to accept them.

Mr. Bennett was studying them over the edge of his papers, his clear brown eyes troubled.

“If you will bear with me,” he said. “Please let me read this next section before you make any comments—” He cleared his throat. “You will understand soon enough.”

“‘To my mother's brother, my beloved uncle Cornelius Bump,'” Mr. Bennett read, and then stopped to look around the room, as if he expected everyone to rise up in one voice after this strange announcement.

For it was strange, the strangest thing to be said so far today. Cornelius Bump was Richard Todd's uncle. Richard might have claimed to be the president or the king of England with less reaction, for Nathaniel had known Todd all of his life and Bump for almost as long, and the connection had never even occurred to him.

The shock rocked through the room even as the lawyer read on, steady as a plough in well-turned earth. The thoughts going through Nathaniel's mind were too varied and quick to be pinned down, but one part of him noted two things: Bump seemed completely unworried by this revelation, while Curiosity looked embarrassed. As well she should, Nathaniel thought. For keeping this to herself for so many years. He remembered just then that Falling-Day, who had been his mother-in-law, had given Curiosity a Kahnyen'kehàka name many years ago: She-Who-Keeps-Silent.

Mr. Bennett pushed on, reading out the rest of it. To Cornelius Bump, Richard had left a thousand acres of virgin timberland, for him to do with as he wished, another five thousand dollars for his own use, and finally a request: that he take the same amount of money with him and find Richard's brother, who had lived all his life among the Mohawk. If he was not able to find that brother or any of his family, he was free to do with the bequest as he saw fit.

The rest was done in short order, for it was simple enough: what remained of Richard's money and land—a fortune larger than anyone in the village had ever imagined—was now Ethan's.

Except, of course, that there was a condition.

Now, thought Nathaniel, settling forward and planting his elbows on his knees. Now we come to it.

The lawyer explained it straight-out: Richard had made his stepson a rich man, but only so long as he left Paradise to take up residence in any city of his choosing and did not return for two full years. He could have a month to ready himself for the journey, but not a day more.

The room was very quiet when Bennett finally put down the papers. He looked like a man who had put an unavoidable and disagreeable task behind him and now must wait for the repercussions. His blue eyes seemed very large behind the small round lenses of his spectacles, moving from face to face and assessing the things he found: surprise, disquiet, anger. The last from Elizabeth, who would chafe against this bit of mischief until she was rubbed raw with it.

Curiosity was the first to speak. “Now look at this,” she said, pushing out a low laugh. “The good doctor still tying everybody in knots just for the plain pleasure of it. Bless his surly old soul, I'ma miss him, but not as much as I'll miss you, child.”

All eyes turned to Ethan, whose expression was very calm, almost blank.

“You don't have to go, if you don't want to,” Elizabeth said, her voice clear and sharp. “Your mother left you enough that you can do as you please, Ethan. Mr. Bennett,” she said, turning to the lawyer. “What becomes of the bequest if Ethan doesn't comply with the terms?”

“By law?” The lawyer ran a hand over his bright pink pate and patted it gently. “It would go to the doctor's next of kin. His brother, if he is alive and can be found. His uncle, otherwise.”

It was then that Nathaniel realized that Bump was no longer next to him. He had slipped out of the room without a sound, and was not to be found anywhere in the house.

The news of what was in Richard's will would explode in the village like a volley of forty-pounders, but Nathaniel wanted no part of the talk and neither did Elizabeth, it seemed, for she left with him willingly enough and kept her thoughts to herself on the way home. Which meant that a different kind of battle was to come, one he couldn't avoid.

Not once did she add her own thoughts while Nathaniel told Many-Doves and Runs-from-Bears about Todd's will, another bad sign.