“Are ye sure ye willnae come into town with us, lass?” Ballard asked as he stepped out onto the veranda, Clover following.

“Quite sure.” She smiled faintly as she watched Shelton and Lambert lift her lively brothers into the back of the wagon. Molly scolded them for their ram-bunctiousness as she climbed onto the wagon seat. “Molly knows what we need from Clemmons’s store, and I should stay with Mama.”

“Agnes said it was just a wee headache.”

“She always says that and sometimes it is. It could also be a sick headache that ties her to her bed. She has had a few since Papa died, although this is the first one since we arrived five weeks ago. It does worry me a little that they might have returned.”

“‘Tis probably just something in the wind or she but needs a wee rest. Our taking the twins with us for a few hours might be all the cure she requires.” He put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her cheek. “Are ye sure she doesnae just wish to be left alone?”

“I think she might be a little frightened if she was left here all by herself.”

“Weel, she wouldnae be alone for long. Adam should be back from his hunt in a few hours.”

“I fear Mama would be quite hysterical by then and poor Adam would be at his wit’s end.” She smiled when Ballard chuckled and nodded. “Go on. I will be fine.”

He frowned up at the sky. “We willnae be gone long. I dinnae want to get caught in the storm.”

Clover saw only blue sky with shapely if swiftly moving clouds. Before she could ask him why he thought the weather would turn poorly, however, he was on the wagon and heading toward town. She waved until the wagon was out of sight, then returned to the house.

A quick peek in on her mother revealed she was sleeping, a cool compress balanced precariously on her forehead. Clover went back down to the kitchen and began to make bread. She was just taking the last loaf out of the oven, enjoying the sight and smell of her accomplishment, when her mother descended the stairs. Clover prepared some tea and sat down at the kitchen table to enjoy a cup with her mother.

“Has your headache gone then?” she asked after they had savored a few sips.

“Yes. It was just a little one. Perhaps it was caused by the weather,” Agnes replied.

“It is still clear outside, but there could be something looming. Ballard seemed to think so.”

“Have they returned from town yet?”

“No, but I am not worried. Ballard had a lot of things to do there. He wanted to judge the work of the blacksmith’s son, who has taken on the chores of his late father. If his work is as good as his father’s, Ballard will hire him for some tasks. Then he spoke of doing a little horse trading with Mr. Potter. For a moment, I was concerned that Molly would be sitting around twiddling her thumbs, waiting for the others, for she did not have much shopping to do. Then I recalled that she has set her sights on Jonathan Clemmons.” She shared a brief smile with her mother. “I am sure our Molly will make excellent use of any idle moments.”

“Unquestionably. I must say, I am not accustomed to being here alone. ‘Tis such an isolated place.”

“It does make me a little uneasy when all the men have gone, but I tell myself that Ballard would never leave us if he thought there was any real danger.”

“Of course not. He would be sure to have someone stay behind to watch out for us.” Agnes took her empty teacup to the sink and washed it out. “And that man of his should be returning soon.”

“He should be, although he has been gone longer than he was supposed to be. He either is having a good hunt or is still trying to find something to bring home.” Clover also rose and washed out her teacup.

“Yes, a man would hate to come back empty-handed from a hunt.” Agnes leaned against the kitchen sink and watched Clover scrub down the kitchen table. “Now that I have had such a long rest, lying about in bed for half the morning, I have the inclination to do something.”

“There is certainly an unlimited supply of work you can put your hand to.”

Clover laughed at the expression on her mother’s face. She knew what her mother meant. Sometimes one suffered a restlessness that could not be satisfied by hard work.

“Perhaps we could explore Ballard’s lands,” Agnes suggested.

“As the twins have done? Somehow I think we ought to choose something with a little more purpose.” Clover shrugged. “I have never liked aimless strolls. I like to be going somewhere or looking at something, such as a pretty garden.”

“We can look for something. I was asking your husband about what sort of berries and nuts or natural herbs grow around here, and he did not really know. All he mentioned was a patch of wild strawberries in the orchard. We can search for berries and the like.”

“They will not be ready so early in the year,” Clover protested, although she liked the idea of exploring Ballard’s lands for useful plants.

“True, but we can still locate the bushes so that we know where to go when the season approaches. Our knowledge of plants, both medicinal and edible, could be really useful. ‘Tis a woman’s job to know about tisanes, poultices, and such, after all. I doubt Ballard has any knowledge about it at all. I recall some of my acquaintances thinking it was rather common for us to go berry-picking or even to go out looking for herbs and medicinal plants, rather than just buying them from the apothecary and plucking them from the garden the maids had planted.”

“And Alice truly loathed those trips to the forest. Do you know, I have been so intent on learning how to cook and clean and tend the barnyard beasts, I completely forgot about woodland plants. It would be helpful to know what is around for us to use. It would also be nice to have some fresh berries this summer. Of course, I do not know how to make jam or the like. We just picked the berries, then handed them over to the cook.”

“Molly will teach you. Go on, get your cloak and bonnet and we shall go exploring,” Agnes said even as she hurried away to get her own garments.

Clover wrote a note to say where she and her mother had gone. She propped it up against the cooling bread, knowing that fresh bread would quickly draw at least one member of the family, or Molly would see the note when she brought the new supplies into the kitchen. Even as Clover draped her light summer cape over her shoulders and tied on her simple bonnet, she wondered if she needed to wear so much. It was a very warm day and the air was growing heavy. Then she shrugged. Her mother would insist that she be properly dressed even if they were just going into the woods.

“I have brought a little basket in case we find anything that might be useful,” Agnes said as she headed outside.

“Perhaps we ought to wait and take one of the men with us,” suggested Clover, hurrying after her mother.

“Nonsense, dear. Ballard allows the boys to roam his lands freely with no more than a caution. Why should we be treated any differently? We will just walk straight ahead and search that particular section of the forest first,” Agnes said as she stepped off the veranda. “We can explore another part on some other day.”

“It might be a good idea not to wander too far afield,” Clover said as they entered the woods. “We could get lost, and Ballard seemed to think that the weather is going to turn today.”

“Well, it does not look stormy,” Agnes murmured as she glanced briefly at the sky.

“I do not think so either, but I assume Ballard knows about such things.”

“At the first sign of a dark cloud we will head back. As for getting lost, I have brought some scraps of twine. We will tie a little on the branches of the trees along the path we take.”

“This little stroll is not a recent idea, is it?” Clover murmured and smiled at her mother’s brief, guilty look.

“Well, no, I have been thinking about it for a while, but I did not want to go alone.”

“And I have been very busy.”

Clover set her mind to helping her mother search for plants. It was a little difficult to put aside all her uneasiness about being in the forest. This was no small patch of wood such as she and her mother had meandered through in Pennsylvania. There were no farms within easy walking distance in any direction. She was also a little nervous about what else might be roaming about. She tensed at every rustle of the leaves or snap of a twig and was a bit envious of her mother’s blissful ignorance of the trouble into which they might stumble.

When they discovered a patch of blackberry bushes, Clover lost some of her wariness and became more engrossed in the search. She and her mother exchanged only a few soft words on what they hoped to find and occasionally tried to figure out what something was. It was as if the forest itself urged them to be quiet.

A dramatic increase in the wind finally drew Clover out of her absorption. Grabbing hold of her bonnet before it was whisked off her head, she frowned up at the sky. The clouds spinning into view were ominously dark. She nudged her mother, who was intently studying a clump of moss, and pointed at the sky.

“That one dark cloud is bringing its whole family with it,” Clover said.

“It certainly does look stormy now. We had better hurry back then.”

As she nodded her agreement, Clover turned to start toward home and gasped. Meandering down the path they intended to take was a huge bear. She frantically tried to think of what to do next, but before a plan formed in her mind, the bear saw her and her mother. It slowly stood up on its hind legs and its loud, deep growl caused them to cry out in fright. Agnes grabbed her hand and they started to run. Clover cursed when she heard the bear thundering after them.

“I am not sure this is what we should be doing,” Clover yelled as she kept pace with her mother.

“What would you do? Stop and have a chat with the beast? Somehow I do not believe he can be reasoned with.”

Clover looked over her shoulder and cursed again. “I think he is gaining on us.”

“I cannot run any faster.”

Clover could tell from the way her mother was panting that she could not go much farther. Since they were running in blind panic, weaving among the trees and constantly changing direction to follow the easiest path, in the vain hope of eluding the bear, they were getting hopelessly lost. Their best hope was to find a safe spot out of the bear’s reach. Just ahead she saw a thick-trunked, twisted old tree that should prove easy to climb even for them.

“Mama, go up that tree just ahead of us,” she yelled.

“Climb a tree? I cannot climb a tree.”

“Can you keep running fast enough to tire out or lose that bear?”

“No, but cannot bears climb trees?”

“I have no idea, but his size should prevent him from climbing as high as we can. Get up there, Mama.”

Her mother scrambled up onto the lowest branch and Clover quickly followed. She urged her mother to continue on up. The bear stopped a yard or so away, then ambled up to the base of the tree. It stood up and fell against the trunk, shaking the tree so powerfully that Clover and her mother had to hang on to keep from falling. When it stretched one huge paw toward her, Clover knew that they had to go higher still. She pushed her mother up another branch and was just following when the bear took a swipe at her. Clover screeched as its claws tore through her skirts. She hastily finished her climb.

She and her mother clung to the branch and looked down at the bear, trying to catch their breath. It stared up at them for a long moment. It tried climbing and Clover and her mother quickly scrambled up just a little higher. The bear was too heavy and the tree too old. The first branch on which it put its considerable weight broke, sending it tumbling to the ground. It satisfied itself by banging up against the tree as if to shake them loose like ripe fruit, and Clover joined her mother in hanging on for dear life.

“How long do you think he can keep this up?” asked Agnes.

“I have no idea,” replied Clover. “All I know about bears is that they are very big and one should not get too close. This is far closer than I care to be.”

“I wish we knew how to shoo the beast away.”

“A bear is not an animal you can shoo, Mama. Chances are good that he will seek shelter when the storm hits, just like any other animal would.”

“Yes, but then we shall be caught out in the storm.” Agnes frowned up at the nearly black sky. “And it looks as if it will be a severe storm.”

Clover shivered. She had been too busy trying to escape the bear to notice the increasingly threatening weather. The wind was very strong and the sky was a swirling mass of black clouds. She looked down at the bear again.

“I think I would rather take my chances with the storm, Mama,” she said. “Let us hope that he leaves soon.”

Ballard strode into the house calling Clover’s name. He frowned when no one answered. The others were just coming in when Adam walked out of the kitchen and handed him a piece of paper. We have gone exploring in the woods. Be back soon. Clover.

Ballard cursed and looked at Adam.

“Ye let them go out into the woods alone?”

“Nope. I ain’t been here but a few minutes meself,” Adam replied.

“Something wrong, Ballard?” asked Shelton as he and Lambert joined him.

“My wife and her mother have gone exploring in the woods.” Ballard crumpled the note in his hand.

“But a storm is coming,” mumbled Lambert. “They must have seen that. ‘Tis dark as night out there.”

“They might not understand the danger such a storm can pose,” Ballard replied.

“They would understand that it brings rain, Ballard, and I cannot believe they would wish to be caught out in the wet.”

“Nay, they wouldnae. Something has gone wrong.”

“Perhaps they have gotten lost.”

Ballard took the musket down from over the fireplace. “Shelton, ye come with me. Lambert, ye stay here and help Adam secure everything and get everyone in the storm shelter if need be.”

“Why must we leave the house?” asked Molly. “‘Tis a good sturdy place. A little wind and rain should not be hurting a house like this.”

The fact that Molly did not understand the threat of such a storm confirmed Ballard’s suspicion that Clover and Agnes would not either. “Have ye e’er heard of a tornado, Molly?”

“No. What is that?”

“A verra large whirlwind. A storm like this at this time of year can spawn one of those hellish things. I have seen only one, soon after I came here, and I thank God for each year that passes without another. It can pull trees right out of the ground and toss cows about like they were child’s toys. If Lambert tells ye to, ye are to get into the storm shelter.”

“There is no storm shelter in the woods,” Molly said in a quiet voice.

“If they are nae too far away, I will get them back here in time.”

“Godspeed,” Molly called as Shelton and Ballard hurried off.

Shelton pointed at the ground just beyond the veranda. “Until the rains come we can at least follow their trail.”

“Aye. Let us move as fast as we can, brother. That rain isnae going to wait on us.”

Ballard fought to remain calm. He would need all his wits to find Clover and her mother. When he noticed little twine bows on the trees, he was at first relieved. At least the women were not foolishly ambling through the woods without giving a thought to getting back home. Then he realized that if they had so carefully marked their path, they should have returned by now. His fears doubled. When they could find no more markers, Ballard had to fight the urge to start running and yelling Clover’s name. He gritted his teeth and joined Shelton in searching for some other sign to follow, then cursed when the first drops of rain began to fall.

“Over here, Ballard,” Shelton called, waving.

“Have ye found their trail then?”

“Nay, and I dinnae think ye are going to like this.”

One look at the tracks Shelton pointed to confirmed Ballard’s worst fears. “A bear.”

“Aye. I thought we had driven them out of the area. It has been a long time since we have seen any sign of them.”

“He couldnae have just plucked them up and run off, so there must be some sign of their tracks around here. We just have to look harder.”

What with the wind and increasing heavy rain, it took Ballard several minutes before he picked up Clover’s trail. It was clear from the tracks that the women had run off with the bear close on their heels. Ballard did not have to say a word to get Shelton to follow with speed. They both knew that the rain could swiftly wash away the trail and leave them with no clear way to find Clover and her mother.

Clover felt the first fat drops of rain and almost cheered. The bear shook the tree once more and then lumbered away. Her mother started to climb down, but Clover grabbed her arm, stopping her.

“But the bear has left,” Agnes protested.

“I want to be sure he is far, far away before I get back down. I have no idea of a bear’s capabilities. Let us wait just a few minutes so that we are sure he can neither hear us nor see us get down.”

Agnes frowned up at the sky. “We shall be very wet before we get home.”

“Better wet than dinner for that bear. Ah … we may have another problem—getting back home.”

“Not that much trouble, surely.”

“We are not woodsmen, Mama, and the moment we saw that bear we stopped marking the trail.”

“And we took a very crooked path.” Agnes shook her head. “I am sorry, dear. It was a silly idea to go into the woods.”

“No, we just should have waited until someone who knows this forest could come with us. We acted a little rashly.”

“Ballard will keep us locked in the house after this,” muttered Agnes.

“I am sure the idea will occur to him. I just hope he does not worry too much when he finds us gone.” Clover started to climb down the tree. “Come along, Mama. That bear must be far away by now. We had better see if we can find our way back to our marked trail.”

“And pray that this wind has not ripped our markers off the trees.”

Clover silently cursed as she continued to climb down the tree, pausing to help her mother from time to time. Once on the ground, she sagged against the gnarled trunk and looked around, trying to remember how they had approached the tree. To her dismay everything looked the same to her. She could see nothing that urged her to go one way or another. She shook her head and stared at the ground, desperately trying to concoct some plan. Just as she was about to admit defeat, she noticed something on the ground.

“Mama, look there. Those are our footprints. And the bear’s too. Can you see them?”

Agnes frowned and nodded. “Very nice, dear.”

“Mama! We can follow our own footprints back to where we met the bear.”

“They will not all be as clear as these are.”

“True, but there may well be other signs to follow. Two women and a bear racing through the woods without a thought have to leave some marks.” She grabbed her mother’s hand and tugged her through the woods. “We had better hurry, for this rain will most certainly wash away any marks we made.”

“So we follow this just as some trapper or hunter would.”

“Only a great deal more slowly. And we pray that our running steps left nice, deep, clear prints. A footprint is something anyone can follow—even us. If they fade or wash away, we will be right back where we started—hopelessly lost.”

Hand in hand they walked with their gazes fixed upon the ground. Clover felt the growing strength of the rain on her back and could only hope that their ignorance did not cost them dearly.

“The rain is getting heavy,” Shelton said as Ballard paused to study more closely the signs they followed.

“I ken it. The women were running hard and fast, leaving deep prints, but they are already being washed away. They ran a lot farther than I expected them to.” He started walking again.

“A bear on your tail can make ye strong and swift.” Shelton followed Ballard for a few yards before stopping. “Do ye hear that?”

Ballard listened carefully, struggling to hear over the wind and rain. Finally he realized what had alerted Shelton—voices. Someone was coming their way. Ballard tried to keep his hopes from rising too high as he hurried on.

Suddenly he saw Clover coming through the trees. Despite his worry, and the anger that always comes with such concern, he had to smile. Clover and her mother were oblivious to everything save the tracks on the ground. They walked along hand in hand, water dripping off their bonnets, bent slightly forward. He was sure that if he did not speak up soon, they would walk right into him.

“Clover,” he called, and laughed when she and her mother screeched in surprise.

Clover was so pleased to see Ballard, she sprinted across the last yards that separated them and flung herself into his arms. Her mother quickly followed, grasping Ballard’s arm as if it were a lifeline. The trail they had been following had been growing dimmer with each drop of rain and Clover had begun to fear that she and her mother would be lost again.

“We are so glad to see you,” said Agnes. “We can go home now.”

“Aye, and when we get there, we can have us a wee talk about what possessed ye to go for a stroll alone in the woods.”

“We were doing just fine,” Clover protested as Ballard took her hand and started to drag her along. “Unfortunately, a bear came and we forgot to mark our trail. Of course, that would have been a little difficult while we were running for our lives.”

“So ye did meet the bear.” Ballard could see no outward signs of injury on either woman.

“Oh yes, we met the bear. We were just headed back home when he ambled up to us.”

“Ye were bloody lucky, lass.”

“I was surprised that we outran him.”

“He let ye outrun him. Ye were lucky in that ye met a bear who wasnae hungry or in a bad temper. He was just playing with ye.”

“Playing?” Clover stumbled over a rain-slick root, but Ballard gave her very little time to regain her feet before dragging her along.

“Aye—playing. A bear intent on catching ye can do so with ease. They dinnae always want to, though. We are nae their first choice of a meal.” He nodded grimly at the women’s wide-eyed expressions.

“Thank God he had a full belly then,” Clover murmured.

“Now we must get to some shelter.”

Even as he spoke, thunder crashed and both women screeched at the deafening sound. They barely had time to recover when a tree only yards in front of them was split by lightning. Ballard got Agnes and Clover out of the way just before the smoldering tree crashed to the ground. He spared only a moment to assure himself of their safety before joining Shelton in throwing mud on the fire that was struggling to life in the stump.

“Does that happen often?” Clover asked as he returned to her side.

“More often than I like,” Ballard answered as he resumed tugging her along.

Clover tried harder to keep up with Ballard. They had suffered some harsh storms in Pennsylvania, but she could recall none as fierce as the one raging around them now. The house was just coming into view when she heard another crash. Ballard cursed.

“Did ye hear where that came from, Shelton?” Ballard asked, looking around.

“It hit near here again?” Clover asked, sure that it had, yet hoping Ballard could assure her that it had been far away.

“Aye. Over there,” Ballard cried, pointing to a knot of trees right behind his barn. “It caught. Ye can see the smoke.”

Within minutes Shelton had urged everyone from the house and they had established a bucket brigade. The rain was easing already and Clover knew they could not count on it to douse the flames in those trees. Her arms ached as she pumped water from the well near the stables and passed bucket after bucket to her mother, who handed them swiftly down the line to Ballard who threw the water on the flames.

By the time Ballard declared the fire out, Clover was trembling with weariness. It took her a moment to realize that the rain had stopped and the dampness she felt on her face was sweat. She pumped a little water into her hands and splashed it on her cheeks and forehead. When Ballard reached her side, she shivered and stood a little closer to him.

“Are you sure the fire is out?” she asked.

“Aye, but Shelton, Lambert, Adam and I will keep a close watch all through the night. Ye did weel, lass.”

“We have bucket brigades in Langleyville too, you know, although I have never manned one.”

“I hope ye dinnae get much more practice here either.”

“I wholeheartedly share that hope. You live in a very exciting place, Ballard MacGregor.”

“It does keep a mon alert.” He kissed her on the tip of her nose. “I think we need to have us a wee talk about what ye can and cannae do—for your own safety of course.”

She smiled up at him. “Of course. Shall we have this talk over a good meal? I am absolutely famished.”

Ballard laughed and escorted her into the house, the rest of the family trailing wearily behind them.