And I hoped that Larkin would come back soon, too, to see me and Cate both, no matter what his mother had to say about it.

I didn’t care if he never left me another carving. Never again lingered close by the cabin to be a distant friend.

What I wanted now was to know him. Even if I already did.

And for him to know me.

—

It took some time to get back down that mountain, especially through the wildest parts. As I went, I carried my knife straight down alongside my leg, for comfort, my eyes drinking in as much starlight as they could hold. Breathing through my mouth so I could hear better. Watching for bears, though I didn’t see anything of the sort. And I realized that I was more afraid of that woman from the other side of the mountain than I was of a bear.

Like the book had said: The human bite is one of the worst.

And I knew, all over again, that there was more than one kind of wild.

—

Maisie woke as I opened the door to the woodshed. She growled for a moment until she saw that it was just me, coming home, and then she got up to meet me, wagging her tail.

“Oh, my girl, my girl,” I whispered. I knelt down and took her face in my hands, kissing the top of her soft head.

The puppies were sleeping, but I needed Quiet as much as he needed his rest.

“Hello, my sweetling,” I murmured as I picked him up and held him against my chest, where he settled again into sleep almost immediately. Maisie wagged her tail harder, her whole body rocking, but she didn’t seem to mind too much. And we lay down together in that messy, wonderful nest, warming each other, and slept hard until morning.

—

“Do you want breakfast or not?” my mother said.

She stood in the doorway of the woodshed, daybreak framing her in white.

I sat up, straw falling from my hair, and blinked at her. Maisie was already awake, and the puppies, too, staggering around their nest like sweet dopes.

“I do,” I said, climbing to my feet, brushing myself off.

“Then come on inside.”

As I followed her out, she reached for my hand and pulled me along behind her as if I were a little girl.

And I felt as if a thread of light bound her hand to mine.

I stumbled across the yard, paying too little attention to where I put my feet, and far more to the feel of my hand in hers.

She took me inside and sat me at the table by the kitchen stove.

“Get warm,” she said.

It was early yet, Samuel and Esther still in bed.

I put my hands out toward the stove, yawning.

She brought me a plate of eggs and fried venison with a biscuit and some coffee.