There were a few houses in the distance to the north, but Jeb evidently didn’t know the people who lived there, or at least didn’t know them well enough to ask for shelter, she guessed. She supposed she should have felt alarmed at the prospect of spending the night without even canvas over her head, but she was getting too tired and hungry to think about anything other than food and a place to lay her head.

The spot Jeb picked was very like the place he’d chosen for lunch: in the woods, near the crick he’d talked about. But it differed from that one in that they were actually in a little meadow among the trees, where a bigger tree had fallen and taken several more with it, leaving a place that others had clearly used in the past to camp, because there was a circle of bare earth with the dead cinders of a fire in it.

“Y’all go pick me up as much dead wood as y’all kin carry an’ bring it here t’ the fire-circle,” Jeb instructed. “Do thet ’bout four times. Then iffen y’all wanta sleep soft, break off stuff t’pile up an’ y’all kin either sleep in th’ wagon or under it. Whichever y’all pick, I’ll take t’other.”

“Wagon bed, please, Mistuh Jeb,” she said, thinking about all the creepy-crawlies on the ground. Then she trudged off in the direction of the top of the felled tree. She didn’t have a lot of hope of finding much deadfall there, if this was commonly used as a place to camp, but to her surprise, there was quite a bit, and all of it of a size she could handle.

She brought in her first lot and returned—

And that was when things took a turn for the odd. Because she was certain she had picked that particular spot bare—but there was wood there. All of it a convenient size, both for the fire, and for her to carry.

She stared at the spot for a moment, then shook her head. Must be gettin’ so weary I’m all a muddle, she thought, and stooped to start gathering again, bundling it all in her apron for ease in carrying.

Sure this time she had picked the spot bare, she left the load beside Jeb, and went back to explore further—

And there was more wood. Right in the same place she had picked over.

A chill ran up her backbone. Wood just didn’t walk itself over to that spot. Something or someone had to have carried it there.

Was Jeb trying to play a trick on her?

She looked back over her shoulder. No, she could see him at the edge of the trees.

Was someone out there in the woods, watching her? Right now?

She almost ran away, back to the safety of Jeb and the wagon. But she had been told to gather wood—so she fumbled it up as fast as she could, and scuttled back to Jeb and the security of the campsite. To her immense relief, he told her, “Thet’ll be enough an’ t’spare, missy. Now, take this here spade t’the crick an’ scrub it down with a rock an’ sand till all y’all kin see is bare metal.”