Two years ago, they’d had a rough winter, had been isolated for several weeks during a series of fierce storms. She’d had a feeling that year and had started stocking up on supplies in late autumn, ignoring the teasing from Tobias and Shelley about becoming a canned goods and paper pack rat. Then the storms hit a few weeks later. By the time they’d gotten the road cleared and could drive to Bennett for supplies, she’d had half a dozen cans of soup and two boxes of spaghetti on the shelves and had been breaking up the last packages of toilet paper and selling it by the roll so that every family would have some.

As she looked at the stock in her store, she had the same feeling, only this time it felt worse. Much worse.

Pulling out the notebook she used to keep track of items to order, she began reviewing the shelves and making a list. She’d completed the dried goods section when Shelley rushed into the store.

“Joe Wolfgard received an e-mail,” Shelley said. “From Vlad Sanguinati!”

“Joe has gone to Bennett with Tobias,” Jesse replied.

“Do you think we should read it?”

“No.”

“I can access his e-mail and—”

“No.”

“But it might be important!”

Jesse turned and eyed Shelley. “Even if it is important, there’s nothing anyone can do about it until Joe and Tobias get back.”

“But we could look—”

“Just because you set up the account for him doesn’t mean you’re entitled to read his mail or even check his account to see if he received any.” Jesse’s voice turned sharp. “The library and the post office are the only places in Prairie Gold that have computers. Anyone who wants to communicate through e-mail has to use those machines. Do you read the mail of everyone who uses the computers in the library? Do you violate the trust of your friends and neighbors?”

“Of course not! But this is different!”

“No, it’s not. The fact that Joe Wolfgard is sharing anything with us is more communication than we’ve ever had with the terra indigene, and, Shelley, we can’t afford to lose that trust. Not now.” Jesse wrapped her right hand around her left wrist. “Not now.”

“You’re right,” Shelley said, sounding chastened as she stared at Jesse’s wrist. “You’re right. But don’t you wonder what they talk about?”

“I think it’s better for all of us if we don’t know.”

•••

“We filled out the paperwork, the containers are clearly labeled, and we paid the haulage for two hundred pounds that requires refrigeration,” Tobias said hotly.

“Like we said.” One of the handlers gave Tobias and Joe an oily smile. “Refrigeration car is full up this trip.”

Stay in control, Joe thought. Don’t shift. And don’t bite the baggage handlers. It won’t help.