CHAPTER 34.

Esther burst into the cabin like a friendly hen, flapping and chattering and nearly knocking Mabel over as she tried to open the door for her. In one hand she held a towel-covered cast-iron pot and with the other she hugged Mabel and kissed her on the cheek.

aSo, is this what it takes to have dinner with you two?a she said and pushed past Mabel to set the pot on the woodstove. aGeorgeas got the dessert. That is, if he doesnat eat it on the way in here. Should be enough chicken and dumplings for all of us. Lynx and dumplings, I should say, but it just doesnat have the same ring to it. Guess we could call it akitten and dumplings.a a Esther laughed and flung her coat across the back of a chair.

aLynx? Youave cooked a lynx?a aOh, donat make that face. Have you ever had it? Absolutely, positively the best meat youall ever taste. Garrett had it live in a snare, so he killed it clean and brought home the meat. Guess we raised him right after all.a aHas he come, too?a aNope. Thatas the only reason we might have enough food. That boy could eat a side of beef and then ask for seconds. But heas out these next few nights, siwashing it on his long trapline.a aSiwashing?a aLike an Indian. No tent. No creature comforts. He packs light and travels hard.a aOh.a aYou got a spoon I can stir this with?a Before she could help, Esther had found one, and Mabel watched with fond amus.e.m.e.nt as Esther once again took over her home. Within minutes she had tied one of Mabelas ap.r.o.ns around her waist, taste-tested the lynx, set the table, and added another log to the fire, though Mabel had just stocked it.

aI want to hear all about what youave been up to. But first, youave got to take a nip of this.a Esther pulled a small gla.s.s bottle from the back pocket of her menas work pants and set it on the table. aCranberry cordial. Positively heavenly. Quick. Get us some gla.s.ses so we can finish it off before the men come.a Mabel didnat move from her seat, as Esther was already on her way to the cupboard. She came back with two of Mabelas jelly jars and filled each half full with the deep red liquid. It was sweet and tart and thick on Mabelas tongue, and it warmed her throat.

aItas delicious.a aTold you. Here, have a bit more. This is my last bottle, and Iall be d.a.m.ned if Iall let George have any of it. He polished off the last of my blueberry cordial without even asking!a Mabel drank it in a gulp, then took another after Esther emptied the bottle into their gla.s.ses.

aThere now. Thatall do.a Just then George and Jack came in, kicking snow off their boots.

aWell, whereas the cake? You didnat leave it in the wagon, did you?a George smiled sheepishly, one hand behind his back.

aSorry, dear. Couldnat help myself.a He smacked his lips. aIt was mighty good, though.a aYouad better be joking or Ialla"a George grinned and pulled the cake out from behind his back. aNot one piece missing. Jackall vouch for me.a Jack gave a nod with exaggerated gravity. Then he looked at Mabel. aAre you feeling well?a aWhat makes you ask?a aYour cheeks are flushed.a Mabel saw Esther out of the corner of her eye, tipping a thumb up to her lips as if her hand were a bottle. aTried to slow her down, but you know how she can be.a aEsther!a Mabel protested.

aOh, Iam just teasing. That cordial does have a kick, though, doesnat it?a aA kick? You mean it has alcohol in it?a aDoes it have alcohol in it? Are you pulling my leg? Donat know what the point be, otherwise.a aOh, Jack. I had no idea. I thought it was just a sweet dessert drink. But it did seem hot in my throat.a Jack grinned and kissed Mabel on the cheek. aYou got any more of that, Esther?a aNope. Your wife polished it off.a The room was warm and soft-edged as Mabel tried to keep up with the flow of conversation and the pa.s.sing of food around the table. For a moment she seemed to slip out of her body, and it was a pleasant sensation to see four friends sharing food, laughing and talking in the small cabin in the wilderness.

aWell? Cat ainat so bad, eh?a aNo, George.a Jack leaned back in his chair and patted his belly. aIave got to say, I had my doubts, but that was tasty. Thanks, Esther. And give our thanks to Garrett, too.a After they cleared the table, Esther insisting the men help as well, Jack and George went to the barn to look at the plow they had been trying to patch together for another season. As the men left the cabin, the fresh night air rushed against Mabelas face and she stood in the open door and breathed deeply. Behind her she heard Esther fussing with the dishes.

aOh, please donat wash those. Iall take care of them tomorrow.a aSplendid idea.a Esther sat down heavily at the table and propped her feet on the chair across from her. aWish we had a spot more cordial.a Mabel laughed. aI think Iave had enough, thank you very much. But Iall get us some tea.a aGood, and then sit down. Weave got some catching up to do. Iam a little worried about you.a aWorried? What makes you say such a thing?a aIam hearing things again. About you and that little girl. Now, donat think I donat see your lips sealing up tight. You think youare not going to say a word, but weave got to talk this out. Why is this all coming up again?a The cabin became so quiet Mabel could hear the fire crackling and the clock ticking. She didnat speak or move for some time, while Esther waited patiently. Then Mabel went to the shelf and handed the book to Esther.

aWhatas this?a aA childrenas book. Itas one my father used to read to me. Not read, actually. See, itas in Russian.a She opened the pages to one of the first color plates.

aAnd?a aItas the story of an old couple who desperately want a child, and they make one out of snow. Anda she comes to life. The snow child does.a aI donat think Iam following you here.a aMy sister always said I was a scatterbrain, my mind too full of fancies. A wild imagination, she called it.a aAnd?a So Mabel told her everything, about the winter they had shaped a child out of snow, and how Faina had come wearing the red mittens and scarf and looking so much like the little girl they had made. She described how Jack had buried the father in the mountains and learned he had died, leaving Faina an orphan, just hours before they built the snow figure. It was that night the child had come to them for the first time.

aWe have tried to convince her to stay with us, but she refuses. She says the wilderness is her home, and Iave gone with her there, and itas true. It is her home. She walks on top of the snow. And I know it seems unbelievable, Esther, but she can hold a snowflake in the palm of her hand without it melting. Donat you see? She was reborn that nighta reborn out of snow and suffering and love.a aNot to be quarrelsome, but n.o.body else has seen any sign of her. Me and Garrett, here working the farm with you those months. Nary a glimpse of the child.a aShe left. She was gone the entire summer. Just as I told you.a aAnd now?a aShe came back. With the snow.a Esther silently flipped through the pages of the book and looked at each ill.u.s.tration.

aYou think Iam crazy, donat you? Itas like you saida"the winters and the small cabin. A fever, didnat you call it? Cabin fever?a Esther let out a long sigh, then turned back to the first ill.u.s.tration of the old couple and the child, half snow and half human.

aIs that what you think?a Esther asked.

aNo,a Mabel said. aAs fantastic as it all sounds, I know the child is real and that she has become a daughter to us. But I canat offer a single bit of evidence. You have no reason to believe me. I know that.a Esther closed the book and with her hands folded on top of it looked directly at Mabel. aI got to tell you, I had you wrong.a aWhat do you mean?a Mabel asked.

aThere at the beginning, I took you for soft. A woman whose thoughts could be twisted around by a lonely winter. Someone better suited to a different place, a different kind of life.a Mabelas temper started to rise in her chest.

aDonat go getting all riled up,a Esther went on. aHear me out, because Iave thought this through. I was wrong. Iave gotten to know you pretty well, Iad say. Count you one of my dearest friends. And youare no weakling. A bit standoffish at first. Too tenderhearted, I suspect. And G.o.d knows you think too much. But youare no feebleminded simpleton. If you say this child of yours is real, then by G.o.d she must be real.a aThank you, Esther, but I know you are humoring me. As a friend, Iam pleased to hear. But humoring all the same.a aHave you ever known me to change my mind just to humor someone?a Esther said.

Mabel gave a small smile, slowly turning the teacup around in her hands.

aWhy arenat you jumping up and down? This might be a first. Iam owning up that I just might be wrong about something. But donat tell George. The shock would probably kill him dead.a aItas almost spring, you know,a Mabel said. aHave you seen how the snow is melting? The river will soon break up.a aYep. Seen that. Whatas that to do withaa aSoon she will leave again. Itas just like in the fairy tale. Faina will leave us in the spring, and I just canat bear the thought of it. What if we lose her? What if she never comes back to us?a aHmmm.a Esther sipped her tea thoughtfully. Then she set her cup down and looked at Mabel as if carefully measuring her words.

aDear, sweet Mabel,a she said. aWe never know what is going to happen, do we? Life is always throwing us this way and that. Thatas where the adventure is. Not knowing where youall end up or how youall fare. Itas all a mystery, and when we say any different, weare just lying to ourselves. Tell me, when have you felt most alive?a

CHAPTER 35.

The March days began to lengthen. Jack watched the sun climb higher above the mountains each day. The snow was heavy and wet and melted from the eaves. Water ran along the surface of the river ice. And then one night the skies cleared and cold fell like a fog over the valley. Jack awoke to find the fire burned to black coals and the windows frosted inside and out. After kindling the fire and pulling another quilt over Mabel as she slept, he set off for town. It was the coldest it had been all winter, and by the time he arrived at the general store, he wondered if his nose was frostbitten. He stood just inside the door and rubbed it gingerly. aDonat worry,a George teased from where he stood at the potbellied stove. aMabel probably wonat leave you when it falls off.a Jack joined him at the stove and rubbed his hands at the heat, trying to work some sensation back into them.

aIave been meaning to tell you, Mabel still wears that hat most every day. It was a generous gift your son gave her.a aYou know thatas the only silver fox heas ever caught? The boy could barely contain himself. Weeks on end he kept asking me if Betty was done with it yet.a aWell, she puts it on even if sheas just dashing out to the outhouse. Especially with this weather.a George laughed and slapped his own backside, as if his pants had gotten too hot. aEstherall get a kick out of thata"Mabel in the outhouse with a fine fox-fur hat.a aNow donat you say a word, or youall get me in trouble for sure.a George laughed again.

aThat boy of mine is going gangbusters this wintera"running traps up and down the river, gone days at a time. Boydas old marten line, and now heas going after the wolves Esther saw out at our place.a aWolves?a aA pack brought down a cow moose by the river. Not much shakes up my wife, but that did. She watched the whole b.l.o.o.d.y mess. The cow struggled hard, with the snow so deep, and the wolves nipped at her and ripped out her guts even while she was trying to run. Me and Garrett walked down to the kill site a few days later, and there was nothing left but bones. You could see their teeth marks along the rib cage. Plucked clean, not even a speck of gristle left. Never seen anything like it.a aWeave heard them howl a few times over our way. That sound stays with you.a aThat it does. That it does.a Jack decided he wouldnat mention the wolves to Mabel. He had made that mistake once before, after George told him about a lynx. One of the Bensonsa neighbors had a small flock of domestic ducks. One night the farmer was marching his flock into the shed when a lynx ran in and s.n.a.t.c.hed a duck right out from under his nose. The wildcat returned again and again over the next several weeks, slowly picking off birds and destroying the farmeras investment. The lynx would come in at night, kill a few, feed off them for several days, then return to take more. One morning as the man opened the duck shed, the lynx dashed out at him. Nearly gave the farmer a heart attack. Both George and Jack got a few chuckles out of the thought of the poor farmer stumbling backward as the overgrown housecat charged past him.

Mabel, however, had not been amused. She refused to go to the outhouse after sunset, said she was afraid some wild animal would be lurking there. Jack tried to rea.s.sure her, but found himself standing guard by the outhouse door more than one night.

Jack was preparing to leave the general store with a crate of supplies when he caught sight of the ice skates, their blades gleaming in the sunlit front window. He had not thought of them since he was a boy, skating on the cow pond. It was a crazy whim, but he went home with three pairs.

The next evening Faina came, and they settled into their familiar habits of preparing dinner and gathering at the table. When Faina yawned, Jack stood and announced, Get your coats. Weare going out.

What? Going out where? Mabel asked.

Down to the river.

The child jumped to her feet, her eyes alive. Will we all go? she asked.

Jack nodded.

But itas freezing out there, Mabel said. And why on earth would we go to the river?

No time for questions. Get dressed.

He rarely gave orders so bluntly, and Mabel seemed surprised into submission. They got their coats and boots, and Jack insisted Mabel put on long underwear and wool pants. He wrapped a scarf around her neck.

There now. Mabel, you take the lantern.

He grabbed a canvas bag from beside the door.

Whatas that youare bringing? Mabel asked.

He merely raised an eyebrow comically and grinned.

And why are we going out in the middle of the night?

Again, just a flick of the brow.

I donat think I trust you. Not one little bit.

It was cold outside, clear and still, with a nearly full moon shining just above the mountains. With the fresh snow and moonlight, they didnat need the lantern, but it gave a comforting glow. They followed the trail down to the Wolverine River.

This way, Jack said, and he led them through a stand of willows and out toward a small side channel of the river. The wind had blown the ice clean of snow, and it glistened black beneath the moon. Jack found a driftwood log and had Faina and Mabel sit side by side. He knelt by their feet.

For heavenas sake, Jack. What are you doing?

Jack pulled the skates out of the bag. Mabel started to stand.

Oh no, you donat! she said. Have you lost your mind? You are not getting those on my feet. Iall fall flat on my back, or Iall break through the ice and drown.

Jack laughed, grabbed her feet, and buckled the blades onto her boots. Mabel sputtered indignantly.

Quick, Faina, Jack said. Do you know what these are?

The girl shook her head, her lips pinched tight in fear and excitement.

Theyare ice skates. You put them on your feet and slide on the ice.

He showed her how to put them on and buckle the straps. Then he returned to Mabel and put his mouth to her ear.

Iad never let anything happen to you. You know that, donat you?

Mabelas eyes glittered in the moonlight.

Yes. I do know, and she wobbled as she stood up.

The riveras still frozen thick, he said. All this last thaw did was smooth the ice to a perfect shine. And even if we did fall through, this isnat the main channel. The wateras only a foot deep. Wead just get cold and wet, but even that wonat happen. I promise.

Jack put on his own skates and led them onto the ice.

Mabel was hesitant, but soon her childhood came flying back to her and she slid confidently across the ice. The child, on the other hand, seemed to have left her braver self, the one who slew wild animals and slept alone in the wilderness, back on solid ground, and she surprised Jack by clinging to his arm like a toddler.

Itas all right, he told her. Even if you fall, it only smacks your bottom a bit. No harm done.

As if on cue, Mabel slipped and fell.

Dash it all! she said.

Before Jack could shake free of Faina and rush to her side, Mabel had eased onto her knees and stood again.

I should have strapped a pillow to my back side.

She laughed and dusted herself off.

Jack skated faster, while Faina merely held on and let herself be pulled. Mabel joined them, and the three held hands and slowly skated in a circle. The riverbed echoed with the sound of their whoops and laughter and their blades carving into the ice.

Mabel let go and skated farther up the channel.

How far is it safe? she called back.

All the way to that corner, and he watched as Mabel gained speed.

Will she be all right? Faina whispered, still holding on to his arm.

Yes. Yes she will.

Eventually Faina grew comfortable on the skates, and Jack set the lantern in the center of the ice. Mabel returned to skate slowly but gracefully around and around the light, while Faina followed like a long-legged fawn learning to walk. Jack skated in the opposite direction and caught Mabel by a hand.

We used to skate like this together when we were young, he said as they pa.s.sed Faina. Do you remember?

How could I forget? You were always trying to kiss me, but I could outskate you, so you never got the chance.

She laughed, pulled her hand free, and skated upriver. Jack pursued her across the ice, the night-blackened trees and sky flying past him.

Faster! Go faster! Faina called out, and Jack didnat know who she was cheering on, but he skated as fast as he dared and prayed his blades wouldnat catch in a crack or rough spot. Mabel stayed just out of reach, until she slowed and swung around to face him. Hand in hand they skated back to where Faina stood in her small circle of lantern light. Without a word, Jack and Mabel each took one of the childas hands and skated up the river, following the curves of the bank. Faina squealed in delight. Even through the cushion of their thick coats, Jack could feel her small arm folded in his, and it was as if his very heart were cradled in those joined elbows. The ice was like wet gla.s.s, and they glided fast enough to create a breeze against their faces. He looked at Mabel and saw tears running down her cheeks and wondered if it was the cold that made her eyes water.

As they neared the corner, where the small channel rejoined the main river, they slowed to a stop and the three of them stood arm in arm, Jack and Mabel gasping for breath. The moon lit up the entire valley, gleaming off the river ice and glowing on the white mountains.

Letas keep going, Faina whispered, and Jack, too, wanted to skate on, up the Wolverine River, around the bend, through the gorge, and into the mountains, where spring never comes and the snow never melts.

As she gazed upon him, lovea filled every fiber of her being, and she knew that this was the emotion that she had been warned against by the Spirit of the Wood. Great tears welled up in her eyesa"and suddenly she began to melt.

a"aSnegurochka,a translated by Lucy Maxym

CHAPTER 36.

He wasnat always there. Some days Mabel crept through the snow and down to the creek behind the cabin, and the creature wouldnat show himself. Theread be only the trickle of water through snow and ice. But if she sat, patient and silent, at the base of the spruce tree, eventually he might appear. His small brown head would peek up from a pool of open water in the creek, or his tail would disappear over a snowy hummock.

This November day, the river otter did not keep her waiting. She heard ice splinter, a splash, and then he was just the other side of the small creek. She expected him to dash across a log or run humpbacked down the bank as he always did. Instead he paused at the wateras edge, turned toward her, and stood up on his hind legs. He was remarkably still, supported by his thick tail, his front paws dangling at his chest. For longer than Mabel could hold her breath, the otter stared at her with his eyes like deep eddies. And then he dropped to all fours and scampered down the creek.

Farewell, old man, until we meet again.

She had no way to know its age or gender, but there was something in the light-colored chin and long, coa.r.s.e whiskers that reminded her of an old manas beard. From a distance the otter gave a comical, mischievous impression, but when it slithered close Mabel could smell fish blood and a wet chill.

She told no one of the otter. Garrett would want to trap it; Faina would ask her to draw it. She refused to confine it by any means because, in some strange way, she knew it was her heart. Living, twisting muscle beneath bristly damp fur. Breaking through thin ice, splashing in cold creek water, sliding belly-down across snow. Joyful, though it should have known better.

It wasnat just the river otter. She once spied a gray-brown coyote slinking across a field with his mouth half open as if in laughter. She watched Bohemian waxwings like twilight shadows flock from tree to tree as if some greater force orchestrated their flight. She saw a white ermine sprint past the barn with a fat vole in its mouth. And each time, Mabel felt something leap in her chest. Something hard and pure.

She was in love. Eight years shead lived here, and at last the land had taken hold of her, and she could comprehend some small part of Fainaas wildness.

The seasons of the past six years had been like an ocean tide, giving and taking, pulling the girl away and then bringing her back. Each spring Faina left for the alpine high country where the caribou migrated and the mountains cupped eternal snow, and Mabel no longer wept, though she knew she would miss her.

Homesteaders called that bittersweet season when the river ice gives way and the fields turn to mud abreakup,a but Mabel found something tender and gentle in it. She said goodbye to the girl just as the bog violets bloomed purple and white along the creeks and cow moose nuzzled their newborns, just as the sun began to push winter out of the valley.

And then, when the days stretched long, the land softened and warmed and the farm thrived. Beyond the barn, beneath a cottonwood tree, there was the picnic table Jack and Garrett had built, and often on top of it during the summer there would be a moonshine jar filled with wildflowers. Most Sundays, they shared a meal with the Bensons, sometimes here, sometimes at their homestead. When the weather was fine and the bugs miraculously scarce, they ate outdoors. Jack and George would build an alder fire in a pit early in the morning and then roast a hunk of meat from a black bear Garrett had shot in the spring. Esther would bring potato-and-beet salad; Mabel would bake a fresh rhubarb pie and spread a white tablecloth. Then the two women would walk together arm in arm and pick fireweed and bluebells. In the background they would hear the men talking and laughing as the flames in the pit sputtered and flared with the bear-fat drippings. When Mabel went into the cabin to get plates and silverware, Jack would sometimes come up behind her, softly pull back the wisps of her hair, and kiss her neck. aYouave never been more beautiful,a he would say.