"If he ever came knocking, I certainly wouldn't turn him away," Ellen said confidentially.

Prudence gasped. "Ellen!"

Ellen began to laugh.

"People will hear!" Prudence scolded.

"Oh, who cares?"

"Besides," Prudence said quietly, leaning forward, "do you think he would do something like that?"

"Come over to my cabin in the middle of the night?" Ellen said. "Hardly. He's far too much of a gentleman, and far too shy."

Prudence nodded in agreement. "Much, much too shy. I don't think the poor boy has ever courted a woman – I overheard Norris telling Warren that he had to explain courting to Connor. When Norris expressed interest in Myriam, Connor had no idea that to court meant to woo."

"Oh, goodness," Ellen said, spluttering with laughter. "Poor Connor."

"I'm not surprised he hasn't settled down yet," Prudence said. "He's always in and out of the Homestead, never staying for longer than a few weeks."

"I wonder what he does out there," Ellen said, casting her eyes onto the forest. "He always seems so detached when he comes back."

"But not so detached that he doesn't make time to take Maria out hunting."

"If only he were that detached," Ellen said playfully. "Then I wouldn't have a pile of dead hares on my porch every other day."

Both women laughed.

"Soon it'll be Hunter on the prowl with them, too," Prudence said, sighing.

"You sound as if you've resigned yourself to it already."

"He has a way with the young ones," Prudence said. "It is to be expected, given his nature."

Ellen nodded, and murmured a sound of agreement.

"Still," Prudence said, eyeing Ellen meaningfully. "It'd do him well to settle down."

Ellen sat back in her chair and took a sip of her tea. "I suppose."

"He would be a good husband," Prudence said. It was clear she had an agenda. "Can you believe he told Dr. White that he was unattached because he didn't have time to give a woman the attention she deserves?"

Ellen's cheeks colored slightly. "He's so very sweet, Prudence. It's a bit ridiculous."

"I know," Prudence said sagely. "He gave us all homes here, did he not? All of us were saved by him, and look at us now." She gestured at the Homestead. "Everybody is so happy."

Ellen smiled and put her teacup down. "You can say that again."

She got up, thanked Prudence for the tea, and made her way back to her cabin.

Ellen walked into her sitting room, catching sight of her young daughter curled up in a chair with a book. She walked over to her and patted her knee gently.

"How's your knee, love?"

Maria shrugged and turned a page. "It's been better for ages now, but Dr. White says I should keep the bandage on for a bit longer."

"I'm just afraid that your hunting might apply a bit too much stress on it."

Maria shook her head. "I wouldn't be out hunting if my knee hurt, Mama. Besides, most of it is staying still in the bushes."

"My daughter staying still," Ellen said dryly. "I never thought I'd see the day."

Maria put her book down. "I can stay still. Besides, the less I move, the more Connor and I catch."

Ellen smiled and nodded. "You're doing a fine job, Maria. I'm sure Connor thinks so, too."

"I wish Pa had had the time to teach me things," Maria said sourly. "But it's not like learning to down the drink in under a second would have been of much use to me."

"Maria!"

"You know it's true," Maria said, returning to her book.

Ellen sighed and went upstairs, sitting down at her sewing table and placing her head in her hands. What Maria had said certainly was true, and she herself wished she had left Quincent a long time ago. Instead, she had put it off to the last minute, putting her daughter in danger. That is, until Maria had rushed out of the house and had come back with a man strong enough to beat some regret into Quincent. Ellen could very clearly remember telling Connor that she had no intention of leaving her business. If he hadn't pressed her further the way he had, she probably would have stayed, too. She felt like such a fool. The Homestead brought them happiness and peace, and yet she had resisted coming. She knew that if Connor hadn't been nearby, she probably would have ended the night with a black eye and a daughter patterned with bruises.

Usually, Ellen tried not to blame herself for marrying Quincent. She had been very, very young and very, very foolish. So foolish, in fact, that she let him back into their house every time he beat her. She had spent most of her young life believing that that was what women had to deal with. That is, until she grew up and realized just how stupid she'd been. She was still young, but she had seen and felt a great deal, and wasn't unwilling to let people know that. The only good thing that had come out of it all was Maria, bless her.

And Connor, she supposed.

Ellen groaned and ran her fingers through her hair. She and Prudence had been discussing men earlier, and while most of her words had been said in jest, a tiny part of her knew that she hadn't exactly been spinning tales. There was something very endearing about Connor – he was almost childlike in his disposition. Almost childlike, because she knew that underneath his cool demeanor was someone who possessed an inhuman amount of tenacity and strength. His gentle nature didn't leave him weak. Just a few months ago, he had held Quincent up by the collar of his shirt and, in front of most of the settlement, had made his intention very, very clear.

"Believe me when I tell you: if I ever see you on this land again, I will end you."

Quincent had scrambled away quite quickly after that, and Ellen had seen the look of pure fear on his face. She had felt a thrill at being protected, strong and independent as she was. Now, she and Connor exchanged the occasional amused glance over Maria's head and she always found herself watching him as he taught her daughter how to properly wield a blade. Prudence hadn't been exaggerating when she had said that Connor had a way with the younger settlers – he was endlessly patient with Maria, and Ellen could tell that she loved him for it. If there was one thing Maria didn't need, it was somebody snapping at her or telling her she wasn't good enough. Connor understood that. He had seen enough to understand that.

Now Ellen heard voices downstairs, and as she peeked over the bannisters, she saw her daughter speaking to Connor in the doorway. He handed Maria a beautiful leather quiver, and she took it in her hands, trembling with excitement. Ellen hadn't known how excitable her daughter could be until Connor had come into the picture.

"Is it for me?" Maria gasped.

Connor nodded. From where she was standing, Ellen could tell that he wasn't at his most comfortable. She felt a warmth in her chest as she watched him awkwardly tell her daughter that he had had it crafted from the spoils of one of his hunts. Maria hopped up and down happily and enveloped him in a tiny hug. Ellen didn't miss the look of shock on his face, nor did she miss the embarrassment that came over him when he saw her peering at them over the bannister. He gave her something of a crooked smile, his cheeks coloring slightly. Maria stepped back, grabbed his hand and began to drag him away. Connor gave Ellen a nod before leaving, and Maria slammed the door shut behind them.

Yes, Maria had been the best thing to come out of Ellen's relationship with Quincent. But Connor…Connor was definitely a close second.