“You think you can handle her on your own?” Daniel asked Ethan.

“I’ll ask your da to help me,” he said. “And Bears and maybe Gabriel. To keep me from putting that bullet in her head.”

“Well, sure,” Daniel said. “Just the men to take along if you want somebody to preach non-violence.”

Any other time it would have made Ethan smile, but he seemed not to hear at all. That silence caught Blue-Jay’s attention, and he lifted a brow in Daniel’s direction.

“Ethan,” Daniel said. “Is there something more going on here that we don’t know about? That we should know about?”

“No,” Ethan said. “Not a thing you should know about.”

Daniel had the sense that he had asked the wrong question. It followed him all the way home, while Hopper snored in his saddlebag.

Chapter LXV

Charlie LeBlanc came to bed late, as he usually did, but he also came to bed sober, which was unusual. Especially on a holiday like this one, where ale ran so free. The oddness of it woke Becca, and she sat up.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nathaniel and Ethan came by, and they had Callie with them.”

“Was there news about Jennet?”

“She’s still at it,” Charlie yawned. “They were here to take Jemima away.”

“What?”

He turned to look at her over his shoulder, the candlelight casting the planes of his face into stark relief.

“They told me she was likely to make a fuss, and I should stand by so she couldn’t say they handled her rough. Ethan settled her bill.”

“Did she make a fuss?”

Charlie shook his head. “It was right odd, Becca. Nathaniel was helping her down the stairs and when she passed me she smiled and she said sweet as pie, ‘If you find my body at the bottom of a cliff, this time you’ll know who’s responsible.’”

Becca drew in a sharp breath.

Charlie said, “I told her not to talk like that.”

“I’m sure she took it to heart,” Becca said dryly. “How did Callie react when she said that?”

“You know Callie’s temper. She lashed right out and said, ‘Old woman, if I wanted to kill you I wouldn’t go to the trouble of dragging you up Hidden Wolf first.’”

“I knew Jemima wanted to go to Martha’s,” Becca said. “But I didn’t think they’d let her. You’d think she’d be happy to get her way.”

Charlie lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “I don’t think anybody will ever understand that woman. Or how she came to have such a sweet boy.”

“I understand her,” Becca said, lying down again. “She’s as mean as a snake and twice as twisty, and thank the dear Lord that Nicholas takes after his da.”

“It’s not like you to be so uncharitable,” Charlie said. “The woman is dying.”

“Let her get on with it, then,” Becca said. “It cain’t come soon enough. Can you remember a time when she wasn’t causing trouble?”

“If you put it that way,” Charlie said, and blew out the candle.

Daniel came out on the porch and Martha said, “Did you really think I’d be able to sleep?”

He shook his head and put an arm around her shoulder. The night was warm and there was a breeze that stirred the grass and Martha’s loosened hair. She smelled of soap and salt, and if there had been any real light Daniel knew what he’d see: her face swollen with weeping.

“I didn’t think you’d want to wait and watch,” he said.

“I’m not sure I do, but I don’t seem to be able to stay away. Daniel?”

“Hmmm?”

“Have you thought much about having children?”

He knew she felt the jolt that ran through him, because she held up a hand. “I’m not.”

“Not yet,” he said.

She would be blushing, but her voice was calm. “Not yet. But I’ve been thinking about it. I don’t know if I can. That is, I’m fairly sure I’m capable—” Her voice trailed away.

Daniel drew in a deep breath and let it go. “You are physically capable—”

“I assume so.”

“—but in your mind you feel unprepared.”

“In my heart and mind, yes.”

“Who is ever prepared for a first child?”

“No,” she said. “It’s worse than that. For Lily it’s different than it is for me. Don’t you know what I mean?” A tinge of exasperation and unhappiness in her tone and she shifted uneasily on the bench.

“Yes, I think I do. You’re afraid that you’ll be a mother like your mother was.”

“I’m afraid that I will turn into that kind of mother.”

She seemed to be waiting for permission to go on. He said, “Martha, I’m listening.”

“I know. I know you are. When I was young, I had this odd idea that every mother was like mine, but some were just better at hiding it. Becca, for example. She’s gruff, but there’s no doubting how she feels about her children. Even when she yelled at them, you could feel it. But I was sure that it was all for show.”

“Maybe it was easier for you to live with that idea,” Daniel said.

“Maybe.”

“When did you figure out that some women do make good mothers?”