South America, or wherever it was heading in search of insects to feed on during the winter.
Juliet wondered what had happened to it. Swallows rarely stopped in those woods. A swallow from Canada wouldnât have come down in a freezing area like this one, where food was impossible to find.
She was curious now, curious enough to wrap the bird in her scarf and place it in her pocket.
Max watched her carefully, until the bird was safely hidden, and then he turned and led her back to the path and waited while she put on her skis. When she was ready, he ran ahead of her through the bare shadowy trees toward home.
Juliet took off her skis, put them in the shed, and walked down another, smaller path through the woods to Camâs place.
âAnybody here?â she called as she opened the door of the little cabin. When there was no answer, she went inside, waited for Max to follow, and closed the door behind them. Cam must have been out on a call. He spent most of his time making house calls. He liked being out. He enjoyed tending to sheep and delivering foals and sewing up an injured pig or a collie in distress. Sometimes she went with him, but most of the time she stayed behind to take care of the animals brought in for treatment.
Juliet had been working for Cam for two years, since she was fifteen, and she was pretty good at treating almost anything by now. Cam was a fine veterinarian and a great teacher, and it was because of him that she could deliver a calf and treat a case of cat leukemia as well as most vets with years of training.
But could she figure out why a swallow on its way from Canada to Mexico would stop in Montana, and stay behind while the rest of the flock flew on without it?
She took the swallow from her pocket, unwrapped it, and placed it carefully on the table. It wasnât so cold now, and Juliet wondered if this would mean the diagnosis would be harder or easier to make. She ran her fingers through the feathers again, searching for broken bones, and this time the swallow did more than tremble. It shook and pulled itself up onto its tiny legs, and looked up at her.
It was frightened. She could tell that. But it seemed to be coming alive. She studied its eyes and saw that they were cloudy and sleepy, but other than that, the bird seemed fine.
The bird walked over and climbed up on the palm of her hand, and when it was settled there and comfortable, she leaned down and introduced it to Max. Max seemed shy at first, but he came to the bird soon and looked it over. He kept glancing up at her, waiting, perhaps, for instructions on what to do with this new visitor.
âWeâll have to make him strong enough to fly,â Juliet told him.
Cam came in then. âWhatâs with the bird?â he asked. He was a rough man, rough and big and he talked that way.
âA swallow,â Juliet told him. âFrom Canada. I canât figure out what happened to him.â She said it hesitantly, because what she really wanted to say was, âThis is my case. Please let me have it. I need one thatâs all mine.â But she didnât have the nerve. He had taught her so much. When would he trust her?
âIt could be anything,â Cam said. âAny marks?â
âNone. And no broken bones. Maybe it just froze up there in the sky.â Juliet handed him the swallow and took off her parka and hat. Her long blond hair was stiff from the cold, and when she shook it to dry it, it fell around her shoulders in clumps. She was a tall girl, almost as tall as Cam, and for a second, as they stood there together, studying the bird, she felt that she was his equal.
And then he spoke, as if he were speaking to Max, and she folded like an accordion because his tone reminded her that she wasnât his equal and wouldnât be until she could match his years of education.
âThatâs silly,â he said dismissing her. âHe wouldnât freeze in the sky. He looks O.K. to