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handful of hair and squealed loudly.
    â€œSarah Elizabeth,” Charmaine said calmly, “would you build me a house with your blocks?”
    The little girl looked at the blocks before her, stacked one on top of another, and smiled widely. Win relaxed, and instead of pulling on Charmaine’s hair and screaming, he simply gnawed quietly on her shoulder.
    It was just as well that she’d decided never to marry. Having a husband to answer to was bad enough, but children! A few minutes with Eula’s “angels” and she was doubly glad she’d decided to remain unmarried and chaste.
    â€œThere now,” Eula cooed as she swept through the door. “Did you miss your mommy?” She scooped Little Win into her embrace and retook her seat.
    Sarah Elizabeth was innocently stacking blocks, and Charmaine sighed in relief. Yes, it was just as well.
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    Three
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    â€œNo, no, no !” Ash hurried across the grassy yard that separated him from the wagon Oswald was struggling to hitch up. Elmo turned to see what the commotion was about, after he tossed another bucket of water into the pigsty. That big old boar was already rolling in the mud, delighted with the cool treat.
    The horses were prancing, pulling away from one another and whinnying softly.
    â€œWhat have I done now?” Oswald asked tiredly.
    â€œYou’ve hitched them up on the wrong sides again,” Ash said, as he began to undo Oswald’s work.
    â€œThe wrong side, the wrong side,” Oswald moaned. Ash cut a biting glance at his stepbrother just in time to see Oswald roll his eyes in despair. “They’re horses, dumb animals, what possible difference does it make?”
    â€œBetsy on the right,” Ash said through gritted teeth, keeping to himself the conviction that these dumb animals were a lot smarter than the man who couldn’t remember the simplest instruction. “Lady on the left. Always. It’s what they’re used to. They get skittish when you change their routine.”
    It was Saturday, and Verna was going to town. She used shopping as an excuse, but this was a ritual more social than practical. Oswald and Elmo usually accompanied her, which made Saturday afternoons Ash’s favorite time of the week. Oswald would visit the small Salley Creek library, and Elmo would find the doctor and casually bring up his aches and pains, his imagined illnesses. Poor Doc Whitfield. Even when he tried to hide, Elmo managed to find him.
    Ash switched the horses, whispering soothing words as he hitched them up correctly. It didn’t take long. If Oswald could remember this one little detail, life would be so much simpler. It didn’t take a genius to remember how to hitch a pair of horses to a wagon, but half the time Oswald managed to botch the job. By the time Ash was finished, the mares were settled.
    Elmo carried a couple more buckets of water from the well to the pigsty, complaining constantly about his throbbing back and cramping hands. He was sure he’d done himself serious injury by carrying the heavy buckets. By the time Verna emerged from the house, Oswald and Elmo were waiting for her in the wagon.
    â€œAre you sure you won’t come with us?” Verna asked again as Ash assisted her into the seat of the wagon. She’d never asked him to ride to town with her before. Never. And this was the third time she’d asked this morning.
    â€œI’m sure. There’s work to be done around here.”
    â€œThere always is,” Verna sighed. “You work much too hard, Ash. You need to expand your horizons, to look beyond this farm now and again. Why,” she said as if the thought had just occurred to her, “you should come to town and pay a call on that nice Charmaine Haley.” She looked him up and down critically, taking in the dark beard, the hair that desperately needed to be cut, the worn and dirty work shirt and the faded Levis.