Fire Along the Sky Read Online Free PDF Page B

only way to make him go was to ask him the one real question—the only question, the one she would not ask for fear of getting an answer.
    She ignored him, but he was not willing to be ignored.
    Walks-Ahead, you cannot hide within your silence.
    Here was the most irritating thing of all: in this strange absence of his, gone but not gone, alive in some ways and dead in others, Strikes-the-Sky was always right, his arguments without flaw.
    At Lake in the Clouds the women forbade talk of war in their hearing, but that changed nothing. It was all around and drawing closer every day. Twice a week the post rider brought the most recent news and the papers and the men gathered in the trading post to weigh it all out, bullet by bullet. Hannah turned her face away when her brother and cousin tried to tell her about it.
    But she knew the truth of it: she could not protect herself from sorrows old or new. War was not
coming;
it had already pushed into their midst. It would not die of her neglect or be turned away by calm words.
    More and more often Hannah had the urge to say these things to Curiosity, who was none of her blood but as close to her as her own grandmothers had been. Both those grandmothers—one a Scot and the other Mohawk—were long dead and content to remain silent in their graves, but Curiosity would speak for them and herself. Once Hannah gave her permission, Curiosity would ask questions that dug themselves beneath the skin like gunpowder.
    “That's the thing about Richard,” Curiosity said, and Hannah started out of her thoughts.
    “What about him?”
    Curiosity flicked her a concerned look. “I've known old mules beset with fly-bots less ornery. But I expect that don't much surprise you.”
    “He was never known for his brilliant personality,” Hannah agreed. And then: “But there's something more, isn't there. Is he sick?”
    “He is,” Curiosity said, her tone subdued.
    “How sick?” Hannah asked the question knowing she would not get an answer; the older woman could be deaf when she chose.
    Curiosity had turned her head toward the door. She stood, clutching the bowl to her narrow chest.
    “Speak of the devil.”
    Hannah heard the riders now, the drumming of hooves that seemed as loud as thunder. A flush of panic mounted her back to set its teeth in the tender curve of her neck.
    Curiosity put the bowl of beans aside and crossed the room to Hannah in three steps. One hand, as lean and rough as leather, cupped her cheek. “There now,” she said softly. “Rest easy.”
    Hannah blinked at her, swallowed hard and tried to speak.
    “Hush.” Curiosity made a comforting sound. “No need to explain, child. A rider don't necessarily mean bad news. Just settle yourself down again and I'll go see to it.”
    But Hannah could not stay away from the door. She followed Curiosity out into the sunlight just as a young woman pulled her horse to a quick stop and slid from the saddle to land lightly on her feet.
    A woman, yes, but no taller than a boy with a pointed chin and sea-green eyes. Then Hannah saw the blond hair and the smile, and while her rational mind said it could not be so, her heart knew without hesitation or doubt. She felt herself moving forward, her arms open wide.
    “Jennet.” The word caught in her throat in a great rush of tears. “Jennet.”
    “Aye, it's me.” She pulled the bonnet from her head with an impatient yank to show off a head of short-cropped curls as yellow as tow.
    “Hannah Bonner, why do you look so surprised? Have I not written a hundred times at least that I'd come one day?”
    Others were running up now, Gabriel and Annie first and foremost with what seemed like half the village streaming behind them.
    “And what great adventures we'll have,” Hannah finished for her. “I've been waiting for you, cousin, and I didn't even realize it.”
    “I see you brought the doctor with you too,” Curiosity said, coming forward now to catch Annie before she ran into the two women