Amy’s coffin had been placed on trestles in the kitchen, as the crowd come to wake her would never fit into the small parlor. Everyone brought food; Rachel and the two eldest Chisholm girls had taken charge of unpacking the baskets and bags and laying things out. Brianna drew in a hesitant deep breath as she entered the room, making her stays creak, but it was all right; if there was any smell of bear or decay, it was masked by the scents of burning firewood, candle wax, berry jam, apple cider, cheese, bread, cold meat, and beer, with the comforting ghost of her father’s whisky floating through the crowd.

Roger was by the hearth, dressed in his black broadcloth with the minister’s high white neckcloth, greeting people quietly, clasping their hands, offering calm and comfort. He caught Brianna’s eye and gave her a warm look, but was engaged with Auld Mam, who stood on tiptoe, balancing with her hand on his arm, shouting something into his ear.

She glanced at the coffin. She must go and pay her respects—find a few words to say to Bobby.

Yeah, like what? I can’t just say, “I’m so sorry.” Tears had come to her eyes, just looking at him.

The bereaved husband was making a valiant effort to keep upright and to respond to a rush of sympathy that threatened to swamp him. Her father had taken up a station standing beside Bobby, keeping an eye on him, fielding the more exigent outpourings—and keeping Bobby’s cup topped up. He sensed Brianna’s gaze on him and looked toward her, caught her eye, and lifted one heavy brow in an expression that said clear as day, “Are ye all right, lass?”

She nodded and made her best effort at a smile, but a sense of panic was rising in her and she turned abruptly and made her way out into the hall, breathing fast and shallow. As she made her way down the chilly hallway, she seemed to hear a slow, heavy tread behind her and the scrape of claws on wood.

Her mother had told her that the smaller children had been fed and put to bed in the surgery, safe behind the hanging quilt. Brianna paused, listening, and even though all was quiet within, she pulled back the edge of the quilt and looked into the room.