“Miss Cate’s sick.” I plucked Quiet out from the shadow of my father’s chin and handed him to Larkin. “But I have other somethings to try when I get back.”

I put the honey jar back in my pack, my pack on my shoulder, and took a long, last look at my father.

Then we all returned to the kitchen in time to see Samuel finishing the last of my sandwich.

“Here,” I said, nodding at Quiet, who was trying to gnaw a button off Larkin’s shirt. “Take him back to Maisie.”

“But I want to keep him here for a while,” he said, pulling Quiet up against his cheek.

“And Maisie wants him back.”

Larkin picked up his sandwich, tore it in half, and gave some to me. “A pup will be more yours if you let him choose to be.”

“Aw, it doesn’t matter. Quiet is Ellie’s dog until he’s old enough to be Mr. Anderson’s.”

Larkin squinted at me. “The Anderson woman was the one who gave you honey for chores?”

I nodded.

“And Quiet’s to be theirs?”

“For hunting,” I said. “All of the puppies. In exchange for a milk cow.”

“A fair trade,” my mother said.

“It is not,” I said, flaring like a new wick.

“Either way,” Larkin said, “Quiet will decide whose dog he is. Just like his daddy did.”

Chapter Sixty

We ate our small lunch as we walked.

“What did you mean back there?” Larkin said. “No more lullabies?”

I knew that the answer would make me sound mean, but it was the truth, so I said, “My mother and my sister thought the best way to wake my father was to be gentle and quiet and calm. Like they could tempt him awake with flowers and soft talk.”

“But you thought otherwise?”

I nodded. “I imagined myself in his place, hearing nothing but good things. If it were me, I’d come back faster if I thought something was wrong. If somebody needed something.”

“Or if someone hurt you?”

That took me aback. “The bee stings were the first hurt I gave him.” I reminded Larkin about the other things I’d tried so far.

“You really put a snake in his bed?” There was some admiration in his voice.

“I thought if he heard Esther screaming about the snake, he might come back to save her.”

He made a little I see sound. “The way he tried to save Samuel from the treefall.”

“Yes.” We walked for a while in silence. Then, “Has your mother ever been inside Cate’s cabin?”

He thought for a moment. “Not since my grandma went to live there. But before that, yes. All the time.” He kept climbing as he talked, and his voice was tired. “That little cabin was where my daddy made his mandolins.”

I stopped.

After a moment, he did, too. He turned to look at me.