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had as much of a hand in raising me as my aunt and uncle did during my years at Stone Ridge. The hours he and I spent fishing at the river were among my most cherished memories, and he’d held me when I cried after I killed my first hen.
    I may have had an unusual childhood, but it was a happy one.
    “Is everyone else inside?” I asked.
    “Your uncle is off to Ardare to advise on something at the university. He’s been gone a lot these past few months. Della’s inside seeing to Victoria. I don’t say your aunt will be up for seeing you tonight. Hasn’t been well.” Exhaustion crept into his voice as he spoke. The house and grounds were too much for him and Della to care for on their own, but uncle Ches couldn’t afford more help. “You want some help unloading, there?”
    I almost said yes out of habit, but stopped myself. “Actually, would you mind taking Jigger after we get the cart to the house? He seemed to be favoring his right fore a ways back. Maybe you could give him his supper and take a look.” I hated lying to Matthew, but I couldn’t explain the eagle to him. Over the years he’d helped me bandage and care for injured rabbits, cats, and a saucy young crow, but I felt certain he’d draw the line at anything that might be a danger to the livestock or to me. Matthew was compassionate and talented with animals, but more than anything, he was a practical man.
    He watched the horse, squinting in the fading light as we approached the stone walled house. “Seems fine, but if you can take care of the rest yourself, I’d be glad to.” He jumped down as the cart rolled to a stop and removed the traces from Jigger. “I keep forgetting you’re all grown up now.”
    Jigger seemed reluctant to leave, and kept looking at the cart, ears laid back. Matthew clucked his tongue and hummed a soft, lilting tune, and Jigger went with him. I waited until they were out of sight around the house before I pulled back the blanket that covered the cart.
    Nothing had moved, not even the eagle. The bird lay still under my jacket. It didn’t move even when I pulled the covering away and the cool evening air ruffled its feathers.
    A lump formed in my throat. It shouldn’t have mattered, but I had looked forward to caring for the beautiful creature. It would have been a far more interesting problem than the ones I’d tried to leave at home.
    “I’m sorry,” I whispered, and a dark eye opened. “Oh—I thought you’d gone.”
    The eye closed again. The golden feathers on the bird’s neck seemed to glow in the light from the lamp outside the kitchen, and I reached out and gently ran my fingers over them. A shock pricked my fingers, and I pulled my hand back. The bird must have felt it, too. It opened its eyes again and tried to lift its head. I pulled the blanket back over the cart and hurried into the house. The heartleaf was wearing off, and I was anxious to get my work done.
    There was no one in the big kitchen, but pots rested on the iron stove and the savory smell of supper set my stomach rumbling. “Hello?” I called, and set my bag down on the wooden table in the center of the room. “Della, are you here?”
    Matthew’s wife leaned her head out of the pantry door on the far wall. White streaks of flour marked her cheeks, and her brown hair was piled into a messy bun on top of her head.
    “Hello, my girl!” she called in her musical voice. “I promised your aunt clean bedsheets tonight, and her supper’s ready. Just give me a minute?” She went to the stove and piled food onto a plate, then disappeared into the hallway.
    I turned on my heel and jogged back to the cart, lifted the eagle as gently as I could, and carried it up the narrow back staircase to my rooms, taking the stairs sideways so as not to nudge the dangling wing with my knees. I bumped the wall with my shoulder and a section of wood panels popped open, startling me. The building was full of those hidden closets. Useful for children’s games