“He is stubborn,” said Karen, “He was the same way when I married Harold, but not as bad. I doubt this time he’ll come around.” It was true. Pony was a shortsighted man when it came to his sister, but that was a story best told another time. She situated both the little ones at last and went on to say, “It doesn’t matter. I’ve been doing it on me own thus far.” She didn’t want to talk badly about Pony, but sometimes it hurt just to think about her brother.

She dabbed at her face, a face that was forced to calm down and only had the remnants of the tears and such. A tired look replaced the sad one, and she said softly, “I appreciate yer offer, Mister Vaughn… There is nothin’ to think about. I don’t want ta hear me name on everyone’s lips. Besides, I am not worried about what yer cottage looks like… I’ve seen humbler homes.” Like the cart with her brother. That was mostly home. “Ugh, I am a mess, I am sorry.” She noticed the pee stain and sighed, knowing she would have to wash that straightaway when she got home as it was her only sweater.

Karen relaxed back in the seat and nodded to him her acquiescence after she did so. The woman closed her eyes, but there was no sleeping for her… no sleep… no… and she was asleep, her hands draped, one each in the baskets.