They rounded the corner of the house and beheld a yard. The bank sloped more gently on this stretch of beach, and the cabin sat in the middle of half an acre of cleared ground. There was a single drying rack, half full of split, boned king salmon. There was a net rack with green netting folded over it. There were various toys, including balls and dolls and a set of children's playground swings that had been painted in bright, primary colors, now faded and rusting, but still working, if the little girl squeaking back and forth in one of them was any indication.

Her identical twin sister had planted herself in front of her mother, feet apart, hands at her waist. She had fair hair cut Prince Valiant style and from beneath the row of bangs brown eyes stared accusingly. "Always with you it cannot be done."

The mother didn't miss a beat. "Hear you nothing that I say? On you shame! Temper, disobediencea Jedi knight behaves not this way!"

The daughter tested the determination in her mother's voice and found it firm. Bloody but unbowed, she stamped off to join her sister, indignation written in flame down the line of her spine, and the two of them vanished like wood elves into the undergrowth at the edge of the yard. The mother turned back. "Sorry about that," she said, and added, when she saw their expressions, "Star Wars. When they're not speaking to me, they're always speaking in the best Yoda. The only wav to get through is to retaliate in kind."

Old Sam let out a crack of laughter, and she smiled a: him. "Aren't you Sam Dementieff?"

"Yes, I am," he said, and doffed his hat. "I'm proud you remember me, Reverend Flanagan."

"Oh please, out here just call me Anne."

"Reverend?" Kate said.

"Sure," Old Sam said, his crooked, callused hand enveloping Anne's smaller, no less callused one. "Anne here's the minister of the Presbyterian church in Cordova. I thought you knew that, girl."

Kate looked across at the other woman, who was regarding her with a friendly smile and an outstretched hand. "No," she said slowly, reaching out to take the minister's hand in a very brief clasp. "No, I didn't."

"What did they want to do?" Old Sam said. "Your kids? They are twins, aren't they?"

"Yes, they are twins, may God have more mercy on me in my next life." Anne Flanagan smiled and set out a plate of chocolate-striped shortbread, Old Sam's favorite cookie on the planet. Old Sam looked like he was in love.

"They wanted to go up to Mary Balashoff's. Mary is kippering salmon today and they want to know how."

"Well hell, let 'em. Mary's been teaching kids to fish and such for the last thirty years." Old Sam dunked his cookie in coffee and bit into it with a satisfied grunt.