Alone in the Wild(72)

When we’re out of the longhouse, Tomas quietly offers to switch bowls with us.

“In case you’re at all concerned about the contents,” he says. “I spent a lifetime with my paranoid brother. I would understand if you’d prefer to eat what they gave me.”

We assure him we’re not worried, and he passes his bread to the kids, who trail along after us with Storm.

“I’m going to ask you two to go back into the big house,” he says to the kids. He looks at us. “May they take the dog?”

“Of course,” I say.

The girl starts to give Storm her bread, but Tomas pulls her hand back. “Never feed an animal anything that she might not normally eat. It can upset her stomach. Ask Josie if they have bones instead. Big bones, from caribou or moose. The dog will like those better.”

I motion for Storm to go with the kids, and she gives me a careful look, as if to be sure she’s understanding. Then she lets them lead her back into the longhouse.

Tomas takes us to what seemed like a storage building, small and round. As we approach, I see smoke rising from it.

“As much as we believe in communal living, we also understand that sometimes, privacy is required, and in the winter, we can’t just head into the forest to find it. This is our alone-hut, for individuals and”—he winks—“couples. Nancy will meet us in here.”

It’s a hide-covered structure, and he pulls back the flap. We have to duck to go inside. It’s brighter than the longhouse, though. There’s a fire and a hanging lantern. A woman sits on the floor. She’s about my age. Tears streak her face, but as soon as the flap opens, she jumps up to greet us. Tomas waves her back inside. We enter, and he hangs back, as if uncertain. She tugs him in, and his face relaxes with relief. She takes one bowl from him and sets it down on the ground, and they sit, her hand entwined with his.

We introduce ourselves.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I say, and down south, that would be a cliché, but it really does say what needs to be said, all that can be said when talking to a stranger.

Nancy’s eyes fill. Tomas grips her hand tighter, both hands wrapping around it. She sees we aren’t touching our food, and says, “Eat, please. I won’t, but you should. It’s good stew, and the bread is even better.”

We take a few mouthfuls, and both are indeed excellent. Once I’ve had enough to be sure my belly won’t rumble, I say, “I’m not sure how much Tomas told you. I was a homicide detective down south.”

She frowns and glances at Tomas.

“Nancy hasn’t been down south,” he says. “She was born in the Second Settlement.” He quickly explains what a homicide detective is, and her brows furrow, as if she’s struggling to understand the need for such a job.

I say as much, lightly joking.

She nods and says, “I know it’s different down there. There are so many more people. It’s good that they have people to do that job. But Tomas said Ellen was killed by accident.”

“We hope so,” I say. “Right now, I’m trying to piece together her final days. She had something with her. Something I need to return. I’m sorry I can’t say more than that.”

Her lips curve in a wry smile. “Because whatever this thing is, it’s valuable, and if you say what it is, people here might falsely claim it.”

“Probably not,” I say. “But we need to be extra cautious.”

“We understand,” Tomas says. “We’d like to do whatever we can to help Ellen.”

Nancy hesitates at that, and her gaze drops, just a little, but then she nods and squeezes her husband’s hand. “Yes. Anything you need. She was a dear friend.”

“She didn’t live here, though?”

Nancy shakes her head. “We asked her to. We…” She looks up at me. “I know nothing of how a detective works down south. I realize it is a job, and therefore, you might want only the details that will help you.”

“Just the facts, ma’am,” Tomas says, and we exchange a smile for a joke the other two won’t get.

“Down south, we’re on a schedule,” I say. “People’s taxes pay our salaries, so we need to be efficient. Brutally efficient even. Up here, it’s different. Eric and I can’t get home tonight anyway. As long as the settlement doesn’t mind us setting up our tent nearby, we’re in no rush. Here, I have the luxury of time, and I appreciate that. It gives me a chance to get a better understanding of the victim. In other words, take your time. Anything you want to explain, I’d like to hear.”

“All right. If I go too far off topic, please stop me, but I … I would like you to understand more about us, too. It isn’t as if we saw Ellen struggling to survive and closed our doors to her. We don’t do that.”

“I understand.”

“We’ve helped a few of the wild people. Some in our community disagree with that. We believe in harmony with nature—the spirits of the forest and all that live in it. We hunt, of course. But we don’t interfere with other predators, which includes the wild people. The question we disagree on is whether ‘interference’ includes helping them escape their situation.”

She shifts, getting comfortable, and Tomas pushes blankets forward to let her lean on them. She smiles at him, and it is the smile of a long-married couple, instinctively understanding what the other needs and still able to appreciate these small acts of kindness.