"I have given Hawkeye and his son permission to hunt on my land, in perpetuity. In season, of course. That means that the animal is theirs. I wish they would sell me the saddle to roast for our dinner tomorrow—"

From the corner of her eye, Elizabeth noted how Nathaniel's face grew still at this.

"—but if they will not, I cannot force them."

"Mr. Bonner—Hawkeye," Julian said, turning to the older man. "Will you at least concede that my father has a right to a portion of the meat—" The judge began to protest, but his son insisted on finishing.

"—as a token of goodwill?"

Julian's behavior was shameful; Elizabeth could not deny this. But it was one thing to see all her brother's worst faults come to light, and quite another to see him do it in the company of strangers. If her brother could not feel the mortification which should be his, Elizabeth would. She tried to catch his eye, but instead she got the attention of Dan'l Bonner.

He was a man of about seventy years, with white hair touched with hints of his earlier black, and a deeply weathered face, but with a calm dignity and intelligence. His voice was deep and had a strange cadence, an intonation Elizabeth had not heard from any other American so far. He was, in short, intimidating in a way she had not anticipated from a backwoodsman. With a little regret for her brother, Elizabeth conceded Hawkeye Bonner's superiority.

She glanced up, found Nathaniel looking at her again, and blushed as if he had read her thoughts.

Hawkeye finished his perusal of Julian and then spoke to the point. "First off" he began, in his low, steady voice, "I was hunting in these woods long before your father set claim to them—"

He held up a large and callused hand to ward off Julian's interruption.

"You want to tell me what I already know, that the judge paid good gold for this land when it was took away from the Loyalists and auctioned. I won't argue that with you—now. Not right now. You want me to sell your father the doe as a gesture of goodwill, but this ain't a matter of goodwill," Hawkeye finished.

"What is it a matter of, then?" Julian asked with one brow raised.

"Hunger," said Nathaniel, speaking for the first time since he stepped into the sleigh.

At that moment, they came to a halt in front of a house built of timber and stone and Elizabeth looked up in surprise. They had driven through the settlement of Paradise and arrived without her taking in even the smallest detail of her new home.

The judge took the opportunity to interrupt the argument at hand. "Well, there is a meal waiting for us now, and no one will leave this house hungry today. But first we need Richard to look after Nathaniel's wound. Galileo! Have Manny see to the luggage, and go after the doctor yourself. We need him straightaway." The judge helped his daughter from the sleigh, and then he turned to the hunters and smiled. "We'll have your needs addressed immediately," he said, and started for the house, with Hawkeye and her brother close behind.

Elizabeth was left alone with Nathaniel Bonner. She hesitated, searching for something to say.

"Never mind if you're going to make excuses for your brother, miss.Don't bother yourself."

"I was going to ask you if you have a large family to feed, Mr. Bonner."

For the first time, Nathaniel smiled at her."I've got no wife, if that's what you mean."

It was the smile that set her temper flaring and her heart beating unevenly, Elizabeth told herself. She must forgive him his uncivil manner, and his forwardness, but the smile was more than she could rationalize.

"It makes little difference to me whether or not you are married, Mr. Bonner."

"We don't stand on such ceremony here. Call me Nathaniel. You're spinster woman, no?"

Elizabeth's mouth fell open in surprise, but then she nodded."I am unmarried, and content to remain so."

Nathaniel raised an eyebrow. "Are you now? And is your father as content to have a spinster daughter as you are to be one?"

This was too much. "Mr. Bonner, you are too familiar—"

"Am I?" he said, and smiled again, this time with something akin to kindness. "Or just too honest?"

"Not that it's any of your concern, Mr. Bonner, but my father respects my wishes and would never try to force a husband on—a spinster daughter when I have no need or desire for one." Satisfied with this speech and her own logic, Elizabeth thought that Nathaniel Bonner must now desist.

"And what do you desire?"

The question took Elizabeth by surprise. I don't think anyone has ever asked me that, she thought, and then in an attempt to hide her confusion, she turned toward the house.

"We should go in," she said. "My father has called for a surgeon. He truly wants to put things right with you."

Just as suddenly as Nathaniel Bonner's smile had come, it left.

"We'll see how much your father wishes to put right, miss." he said, and he started for the house.

* * *

Her father's housekeeper was a long and very wiry black woman with a thin face framed by layers of calico. She took one look at Nathaniel's bloody shoulder and disappeared into the far end of the house, a loud and pointed monologue trailing along behind her. Elizabeth was left to find her own way to her room.

When she had located it and closed the door behind her, she found herself suddenly exhausted. There was a fire in the small hearth, and she gratefully fell into the chair before it, barely looking around herself at the furnishings. She noted that the windows faced east, but for the moment she could not rouse herself to go look out, although she had wondered for months what kind of view she might hope for. With trembling hands she removed her traveling cloak and hood.