Chapter 81

* * * *

The summer passed pleasantly. The militia did not put in an appearance again, leading me to believe there had been no renegades. Smith’s last visit had been nothing more than harassment.

From time to time, people from town came to seek the major’s advice on civic matters, and he made occasional jaunts to attend meetings. He initially resented the intrusion but soon looked forward to such diversions.

At first, I was loath to see him go, fearing he was no longer tightly bound to me. Fretful he might decide not to come back. I would always be restless until he returned.

During one of his absences, I was drawn out of the house by a sound from my past. Either my ears were ringing or I had heard the shriek of an eagle wing whistle. I mounted the hill behind the cabin and found signs someone had been keeping the house under watch. As I squatted and examined the scuffmark of a moccasin, the hair on my neck rose.