Michael took his plate and stood in the doorway, staring darkly toward the river. He ate but little. Annie had seen the turmoil in his eyes, the haunting by old and terrible memories. He said, “I wisht the world didn’t have any soldiers.”

Just before dark, Annie saw Michael stiffen, then take a few long strides out past the dog-run. Fear constricted her throat, and she quickly followed after him. She knew Andrew, Petra, and Isaac were behind her, but she did not look back. She stopped beside Michael and watched the soldiers coming across the river. She saw no sign of James.

“Do you think—” She could not finish the question.

Michael made no comment for a minute or more. Finally he said, “By the set of their shoulders, I’d say they was mighty disappointed.”

Annie had held her breath. Now she let it go, slowly. “Then he did get away.”

She thought the soldiers would probably come up to the cabin, perhaps seeking some sort of retribution. She knew by the worry in Michael’s and Andrew’s faces that they had the same idea. The soldiers might have lost their quarry, but the family was still here. They made no such move, however. They set about making camp on the river. Annie could see them starting a fire. Dark came, and they made no move toward the cabin.

Michael looked relieved. “They ain’t comin’.”

Andrew agreed.

Annie asked, “What would you have done if they had come?”

Michael cradled his long rifle in his arms. “Whatever we had to do.” He seemed to realize the sense of threat his voice carried, and he softened it. “Marie’ll be worried. I’d best get on home before she sends Mordecai over here huntin’ me.” He gave Isaac Blackwood a questioning glance.

Isaac said, “They might decide to come up durin’ the night. I think I’ll stay. I can sleep here on the dog-run.”

Annie could see that Michael was not keen on that notion, nor was Andrew, but she felt grateful. Had Isaac not brought warning, James would not have escaped. “We can find you a couple of blankets, I’m sure.”

She saw pleasure in Isaac’s eyes as he replied, “I’d be much obliged to you, ma’am.”

Andrew warned her, before she went to bed, “It wouldn’t hurt if you was to bar your door tonight.”

She said, “Since the soldiers haven’t come already, I don’t think they’ll come at all.”

Andrew admitted, “I wasn’t thinkin’ about the soldiers.”

“Isaac came to help us,” she argued.

“A dog can help you, too, but some of them you don’t let in the house.”

Morning came, but no soldiers. Annie opened the wooden window and looked toward the river. They were still camped down there. She walked out onto the dogrun. The blankets were neatly folded, but she did not see Isaac Blackwood. Unaccountably, she felt disappointed. He had probably sensed Andrew’s disapproval.

Andrew came up from the cow shed, carrying a bucket of milk. Annie asked him, “When did Isaac leave?”