“There’s a thought.” Nattie sat up, staring into her personal dark. “I think maybe you’re right about the bad blood, though. Oh my, yes. All right. This story will stop with me unless some other problem comes from it.”

Fawn breathed relief at this promise. “Thank you. Talking with you eases me, more than I expected.” She thought over Nattie’s last words, then said more firmly, “You have to understand, I’m going away with Dag. One way or another.”

Nattie did not immediately burst into objections and dire warnings, but said only, “Huh.” And then, after a moment, “Curious fellow, that Lakewalker. Tell me more.”

Fawn, busying herself once more about the kitchen, was only too glad to expand on her new favorite subject to an unexpectedly sympathetic, or at least not immediately outraged, ear. “I met his patrol in Glassforge…’’ She described Mari and Saun and Reela—if touching only lightly on Dirla and Razi and Utau—and Sassa’s proud tours to show off his town, and all the fascinating things folks found for work there that did not involve cows, sheep, or pigs. The bow-down, and Dag’s unexpected talents with a tambourine—a word picture that made Nattie laugh along with Fawn. At that point, Fawn came to a sudden stop.

“You’re heels-up in love with him, then,” Nattie said calmly. And, at Fawn’s gasp, “Come, girl, I’m not that blind.”

In love. It seemed too weak a term. She’d imagined herself in love back when she was mooning over Sunny. “More than that. I trust him…right down to the ground.”

“Oh, aye? After all that tale, I think I’m half in love with him myself.” Nattie added after a thoughtful moment, “Haven’t heard such joy in your voice for a long, long time, lovie. Years.”

Fawn’s heart sprang up as though weights had been shifted from it, and she laughed aloud and gave Nattie a hug and a kiss that made the old woman smile foolishly. “Now, now. There’s still some provin’ to be done, you know.”

But then the pies were baked, and Fawn’s mother returned to start the rest of supper, sending Fawn to milk the cows so the boys could keep cutting hay while the light lasted. She went by the front porch on the way, but Dag had not yet returned to his thinking seat there.