By the next week the school was finished. Connor had been busy but stopped by on Sunday to inspect the new building. Lance had assured Connor that the new design would work well. The walls of the building were thicker to keep out the harsh winter cold with a thick white clay coating on the inside which made the room brighter. Rows of tables filled the room, well more than they needed now but just as when they had built the church it was decided that the area was growing and it was better to build now with plans for expansion. He ran his eyes over the seats and tried to imagine how many families it would take to fill the room.

Glancing at the desk he could see that Carolyn had already visited the building. Pens and papers were laid out neatly on a desk next to a stack of books. He picked up the top one and flipped it open curiously. It proved to be the book she had mentioned though a thin ribbon marked a passage on labor wages and land rents. He closed it and considered the other volumes which proved to vary from a slim volume of poetry to a thicker book made of some very detailed drawings of various animals cut open and stretched out each part listed and noted.

He replaced the books carefully and headed back to the house, walking past the church and hearing Timothy preach to the people of the town. With the exception of the occasional sailor the streets were deserted for most of the day Sunday and the town had a different feel.

Nearing the bridge he was surprised to find the town not as deserted as he expected. Carolyn sat on a rock down by the water with a large pad of paper in her lap and contemplated a family of beavers on the other side of the river.

Connor walked down to the rock and looked over her shoulder. The page was filled with sketches of the animals from different angles and notes. "Did you draw these?" he asked. Her head whipped around and her eyes went wide and he realized belatedly that she must have been caught in thought and not heard him coming.

"You startled me. I did not expect anybody to be out." Taking a deep breath she nodded to the animals who continued to groom themselves contently by the water. "Aren't they beautiful? We have nothing like them in Boston except the pelts the trappers bring in. I've always wanted to see one live. We did have otters though. My mother was quite fond of them I'm told. Did you know sea otters hold hands while they sleep so they do not drift apart? They say there are fresh water otters too though I have never seen one. " She drifted off suddenly aware that the river flowing by wasn't the only thing babbling.

Noting his interest she handed up the book. He flipped back through the pages filled with detailed drawings ranging from animals to the towns people, the mill, the inn, the woods. Going back further he was surprised to find sketches of several places in Boston that he was familiar with. One double page held a drawing of the pier area by the warehouse and there was even a sketch of the old brewery and its guards from before it burned down.

Carolyn had continued on "I'm told that they build large structures out of trees but I haven't seen them do anything particular other than swim and scratch around in the mud."

Connor handed her back the notebook. "When they begin here we have to tear it down. The mill needs enough water flow to turn and we cannot let them block the river." He thought on this briefly "There is a small side stream in the woods they have dammed. The idea is the same but on a smaller scale. I could show it to you if you like."

"Really?" her voice was surprised but pleased.

Connor shrugged and gestured to a thin path leading through the trees. "I don't see why not, I have nowhere else to be."

Together they walked through the woods. Connor tried to think of something to say. "You do not go to church on Sunday?" She shook her head. "No Timothy is a good man and well-spoken but his ways are not my ways." He contemplated this. "So you do not believe in god? That's unusual for someone of your background." Carolyn looked up at this. "Of course I believe in God. I am a Deist." She stated as if that explained everything. Sensing his confusion she explained "The concept of God as a craftsman like a carpenter or a watchmaker and the world as his craft. The wood does not ask the carpenter not to hew and shape it. We do not pray for God to change the way things are. We pray for Him to help us to understand His plan for us. "

He shrugged. He had little interest in religion but the discussion seemed to put her at ease. "How do you know what god's plan is for you?" "You look at what He gave you and try to discern your place. Each cog in a watch fits somewhere specific allowing the watch to turn. You must look to what you are good at and do that." She glanced at him curiously. "Did you really jump off a cliff to try something Lance built?" He shrugged. "He said it might work and I was uninjured." She laughed out loud. "You're either incredibly brave or incredibly trusting. I'm not quite sure which yet. Though lucky would also fit in it seems."

He flushed. "We're getting close" he commented kneeling by a small plant with telltale markings. Much to his surprise she came over and peered at the shrub over his shoulder. "How can you tell?" He held out one of the thinner branches. "A beaver's teeth are sharp like a chisel. See here where it has cut through?" She examined the cut end. "Aren't rabbit teeth similar? How can you tell the difference?" He thought about this briefly. "Mostly rabbits stay to the grass areas. They tend to prefer greens as opposed to trees. Now a beaver will eat greens but then I would tell by the damage to the plant. Beavers bit them off sharply near the ground. A rabbit will nibble on the leaves. "

She looked around then and pointed to a set of tracks through the mud near where he knelt. "Are these beaver tracks then?" He nodded. She bent over to examine them and finally gave up and knelt in the mud, pulling out her pad to sketch them carefully. After a moment of thought she sketched the bit end branch as well.

Only when she finished did she look down to realize she was kneeling and pulled up an edge of the skirt thoroughly caked in mud He offered her a hand up which she took gratefully. He would have expected her to be mad but instead she laughed at herself and scraped off as much as she could with a stick. "No doubt Ellen can show me how to get it clean again. I fear I may be too easily distracted for field work. But it is nice to learn something new that did not come out of a book. Perhaps you should try your hand at teaching?" "Actually I have" he thought back on his friend "in the end it did not go well."

Gaining the top of the hill she spotted the beaver dam. "It's huge! How do they make them?" Connor smiled at her enthusiasm. "I've seen ones 10 times this size. They will dam rivers bigger than the one by the mill if they are allowed. The cut down the logs and float them into place. Before the winter they coat it with mud. Once it freezes the den is quite warm and safe from attack. Also the deeper water keeps the pond from freezing. "

"So they eat plants. Do they eat fish as well?"

Connor pondered that. "Not that I have seen but if they did I would expect it to be in the water."

"And the tail?"

"They use it for swimming. Here. I'll show you." He walked over to an older fatter beaver and pulled out his dagger. It died with a squeak and he picked it up and turned back to Carolyn. The look of horror on her face and her involuntary step backwards let him know that he had just made an error. Myriam would have had a problem but as he was often told she was not usual for a woman. He stood there feeling somewhat foolish as she eyed the cooling body in his hand sadly. She swallowed visibly and cautiously stepped forward. Not knowing what else to do he showed her the muscles of the tail and explained how they were used to help steer in the water. After a bit she examined its feet and teeth carefully as well.

"You may as well skin it. I would certainly hate to waste its death." She said at last.

Laying the beaver on the ground he bent over it with his dagger at its stomach but instead of turning away as he expected her to she came around opposite him. "May I watch?" He nodded surprised and proceeded to dress it as neatly as he could. He pointed out the caster gland and explained its uses but how if puncture the oil would be wasted and the meat ruined as well. "Everything else we leave to the scavengers". Thoughtfully she pointed to the viscera he had left aside. "Would you mind opening the stomach?" It was an odd request but he complied, slicing it open neatly. Showing only a small amount of the disgust he would have expected she poked around carefully with a stick. "I think you may be right about the fish. I see no signs of any bones or scales, only plants. Surely if there was ever a time they ate fish it would be now." She dropped the stick next to the stomach and backed away, wiping her hand unconsciously on her skirt.

"Are you ready to go back?" She nodded quietly and they headed back towards the town. She was quieter on the trip back and kept a firm distance between them. Connor frowned at this. "Is everything ok? You seem to be particularly uneasy around me. Is it because of my blood?"

"Your blood? What kind of person do you think I am? There's nothing wrong with your parentage." She swallowed, "If anything it's your skill with a knife. And that I am not used to wandering the woods at all, let alone with a strange man. "

"I would not recommend coming out here alone. There are many dangers. If you do and get lost try to find the river and follow it back." He climbed down over a rock. "As for the knife if you do not have one I recommend getting one and carrying it with you at all times. They are handy and you're liable to run into any number of dangerous creatures out here, not all that walk on four legs." He reached up and helped her to the ground.

She thought on that silently. "If you do not have one Dave might make you one." He offered.

She shook her head. "No, I do have one. I'm not used to having to even think about wearing it though. I suppose this is my life now and I must adapt."

He looked down at splattered dress. "The knife is a good start. You might also consider seeing if Ellen would make you some more practical clothes if you plan on heading out to the woods. " A sudden image of her getting jumped while obliviously inspecting wild flowers brought him a smile. "Though if there's anything specific you'd like to see, let me know. I also tend to have Sunday's free."

"That's the problem. I want to see everything. I've lived here my whole life and barely left the towns. And now I'm looking at leaving it and probably never coming back."