30
Paul held me close ’til the sound of the first bird of morning came to my ears. We’d put a blanket over that dirty old mattress, but it hadn’t helped with the noisy springs. Not that I cared. I knew even more from the way he moved inside me that Paul was a good man. He was strong—maybe the strongest of us but for Hoege—but his strength was always measured out. The softness that I’d seen in my very first look at him was still there.
The bird called out again, just two notes, high and low, but like an echo came a second call under it that was no bird but Cable, on sentry duty outside the cabin. That he’d given the warning call softly put the chill into me. It meant something was close. I nudged Paul awake and said, “Listen.” The first time, he couldn’t hear it through his sleepy head, b
