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wife already was, but Isaac didn’t point that out. Kendra’s trust fund had never been one of their problems.
    The clearing around the house was flat enough, although the property sloped gently at the back, and eventually, after a drop, ended at the North Fork of the Shenandoah River. There were several newly greening trees—oaks, he guessed—planted for shade, and what he recognized as a stand of sycamores. Woods were threatening to encroach on both sides, although it looked as if the good hardwoods had been taken several decades ago. Through the thick unfettered canopy he saw blooming dogwoods and the vestiges of redbuds.
    The prevailing feeling here was of civilization being swallowed alive, of vines creeping toward the house to strangle it, of seedlings that would grow overnight into beanstalks crowned with maniacal giants. He glimpsed what looked like a marsh along the edge of the woods on one side. He imagined moccasins and rattlesnakes. The woods were probably full of bears.
    He, who was dedicated to saving the world’s wild places.
    “Come see it from inside,” Kendra said.
    They were in the dogtrot now. At the other end he could see the river in the distance. Despite himself, he wondered if the man who had built this cabin had planned it this way. If he had wanted to look down on the sparkling Shenandoah each morning. Or perhaps his wife had insisted she wanted to see the river as she sat on the porch and snapped beans or did her weekly mending.
    “It’ll look better when I’ve had a chance to shop.”
    Kendra unlocked the door on her left. At least the lock was new and looked sturdy.
    “I’m going to furnish it with antiques. But I’ve bought enough basics to make it livable.”
    Isaac followed her inside. He could tell by the way her foot dragged, as well as by her pallor, that this trip had cost her a great deal. He felt a fresh twinge of anger.
    “What do you think?” she asked.
    The room felt dark and cramped. The ceiling was low, and although he didn’t need to, he felt as if he should crouch. Kendra pulled back cream-colored curtains as she went, and although there weren’t many windows, the light helped.
    “I’ll need to wash the windows,” she said. “And apparently it’s not that hard to add them to these cabins, I might just do it when I find a good contractor. I don’t want a museum, I want a home.”
    But not with him. Isaac heard that clearly. Kendra knew this would never feel like home to him or fit with plans he had for his life. But that no longer seemed to concern her.
    “Come see the kitchen,” she said.
    The kitchen was just the other end of the room. Dabney had done a good job of adding cabinets and a pantry. The sink, deep and rectangular, was an antique—he guessed it was one Kendra had found. A small round table sat in the corner for meals.
    “Simple but efficient,” she said. “Do you like it?”
    “Looks easy to use.”
    “We got the cabinets out of an old house that was being torn down. They’re hickory. I love them. And the countertop is slate from an old school building south of here.”
    He hadn’t known she was putting so much thought or energy into this project. Apparently there was a lot he hadn’t known.
    “I’ll show you the other part.”
    He stopped her before she could pass. “Don’t do this.”
    She didn’t move, and she didn’t look at him. “I thought we’d worked this out.”
    “Look at you. You’re already exhausted.”
    “Let me show you your grandmother’s garden. Or what’s left of it. I think she spent a lot of time there.”
    He dropped his hands. “Fine. You can show me after I move everything else inside.”
    He made four trips to the car. She hadn’t brought much. Casual clothes, her computer, a small television set, more things for the kitchen, her plants, sheets and towels. He guessed she hadn’t wanted to look as if she was moving away for good. As she felt stronger, she would probably return to the condo, perhaps