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control.
    The tension in her neck and arms gradually subsided and she relaxed. For these brief few moments, she could just be.
    Half an hour passed. Ahead, the clouds began to dissipate, revealing blue sky in patches overhead.
    The water taxi skirted a long finger of land and several crab boats before turning into an inside channel, bordered by a wild, rocky shoreline. A few houses came into view, gray and weathered against the thick evergreens.
    The boat glided past a fish farm and then more houses on the left and a long brown building with the sign Motel and Restaurant.
    They finally arrived at the ramshackle dock, where a purse seiner and a cluster of fishing boats bobbed in the waves. And just as Jordan was wondering what to do with her unwieldy suitcases and grocery bags, Billy hoisted them out of the boat.
    â€œThey’re fine here,” he told her. “You go ahead, we’ll bring them up for you. You’re living at the back of the medical center, right?”
    â€œI am. Thank you so much.” Carrying her medical bag and her purse, Jordan climbed out of the boat and walked slowly down the long pier and up the dirt road. A large sign nailed to a building read, Welcome to Ahousaht. Jordan looked around for Christina. The nursing supervisor had said she’d meet her, but she wasn’t there.
    Two small boys on bikes came ripping past. One of them did an elaborate wheelie for her benefit and then hopped off the bike. He was wearing a billed cap backward over unruly black hair, and he gave Jordan an enchanting, gap-toothed grin. His face was still round with baby fat.
    â€œHi,” he said. “You’re our new doctor, right?”
    She smiled back at him and nodded. “And who are you, sir?”
    â€œI’m Eli Crow—Christina’s my mom. She told us to watch for you. She had to go see Auntie Elsie—she fell yesterday and hurt her foot, all the toes on the right foot are bruised.”
    â€œHi, Eli.” Jordan set her bag down and shook hands with Eli. She remembered Christina saying that she was the single parent of an eight-year-old. “Who’s your friend?”
    â€œHe’s Michael Nitsch. His mom is gonna make movies.”
    â€œHi, Michael.” Jordan held out her hand to the other boy. “So are you going into the movie business, too, when you grow up?”
    â€œNope. I’m gonna be a fireman.” Michael took his time shaking her hand. “Should we call you Mrs. Doctor?”
    â€œYou can call me Doctor Jordan, how’s that? I’m pleased to meet you both. You came along at exactly the right moment, too. The last time I was here somebody met me, and now I’m sort of lost. Could you guys get me to the medical center? And maybe help me carry those grocery bags?”
    â€œSure. We’re really, really strong.” One on each side of her, they hefted her plastic carryalls over their handlebars. Taking the job as guides seriously, they talkednonstop, pointing out the band office, the school and where they lived.
    They informed the smiling drivers of two pickup trucks and a man out chopping wood that they were taking Doc Jordan to her new house. They told Jordan that the man chopping wood had a wife with six fingers, and that she’d let Jordan see them if Eli asked her and said please. Jordan quickly declined the offer.
    â€œMaybe another time.”
    â€œOkay, whenever you like,” Eli replied expansively.
    Everyone called out a friendly hello. A woman pegging flowered sheets and diapers on a clothesline smiled and waved.
    â€œThat’s Audrey. She’s got a new baby,” Michael confided.
    â€œYeah, and her daddy went to live with his other wife,” Eli said with a nod. “Audrey won’t let him in the door now.”
    Fascinating. This had a motorcycle escort beat all to hell, and Jordan felt pretty much like an informed VIP by the time her young heroes had delivered her safely to the