Kaneq had grown in the past years. The clapboard-fronted storefronts were painted bright colors, like pictures she’d seen of fjord-side towns in Scandinavia. The boardwalk that connected everything looked brand-new. Streetlamps stood like sentinels, planters full of geraniums and petunias hung from their iron arms. Off to her left was the General Store, expanded to twice its original size, with a new red door. The street boasted one shop after another: the Snackle Shop, the diner, the yarn shop, souvenir places, ice-cream stands, outfitters, guides, kayak rentals, and the new Malamute Saloon and Geneva Inn, which boasted a giant white rack of antlers above the door.

She remembered their first day here, with Mama in her new hiking boots and a frothy peasant blouse, saying, I’m a little suspicious of people who use dead animals in their decorating.

Leni couldn’t help smiling. Good Lord, they’d been unprepared.

Tourists mingled with locals (one still easily distinguishable from the other by clothing). Vehicles lined the street in front of the Malamute Saloon: a few ATVs, some dirt bikes, two pickup trucks, and a lime-green Pinto with a duct-taped fender.

Leni climbed into Large Marge’s old International Harvester. They drove past the General Store. A newly painted bridge (fishermen with lines in the water on either side) swept them over the crystal-clear river and deposited them on the gravel road that soon turned to dirt.

For the first half mile, there were new signs of civilization: A travel trailer was on blocks in the tall grass; beside it, a tractor was rusted through. A couple of new driveways. A mobile home. An old school bus parked near the ditch had no tires.

Leni noticed that Large Marge had a new sign at her place. It read KAYAK AND CANOE RENTALS HERE!

“I love exclamation marks,” Large Marge said.

Leni was going to say something, but then she saw the start of Walker land, where the arch welcomed guests to the adventure lodge and promised FISHING, KAYAKING, BEAR VIEWING, AND SIGHTSEEING FLIGHTS.

Large Marge eased up on the accelerator as they neared the driveway. She glanced at Leni. “You sure you’re ready to do this? We could wait.”

Leni heard the gentleness in Large Marge’s voice and knew that the woman was offering to give Leni time before she saw Matthew again. “I’m ready.”

They crossed beneath the Walker arch and rumbled along, the road evened out by gravel. To her left, eight new log cabins had been built among the trees, each one positioned to have a sweeping view of the bay. A twisting, handrailed trail led down to the beach.