"I've known him to be, yes." Wesreplied.
"You known him long?"
"Yeah a few years."
"You mean, you come through here often?" sheasked, staring at him now.
"Every year for the past six years orso."
"Oh, I didn't know. I never saw you, butthen, I don't get out much." She told him. "I guess, I could alwaysgive you some work if you were to stop off when you comethrough."
"That's kind of you," he smiled.
"Maybe you should get out more ma'am." Wesgrinned at her now.
"You think so?"
"It certainly wouldn't hurt to get to knowyou neighbor's ma'am." He told her.
"Jim didn't like me visiting, said we didn'thave time for things like that." She bowed her head. "And I don'thave much time now either."
"Well, Jim's not here now. And the way I seeit, you can do what you want."
She stared at him a minute, then for thefirst time she broke out in a real smile. "I guess you'reright."
He nodded, smiled, and got up on thewagon.
"You want to come along?" he asked, pausingto hear her answer.
"It might be nice to get out a bit." Shetold him.
"Come along then," He helped her up.
His touching her hand seemed to affect herin some way, and she was quiet for a bit.
"I guess you think I'm a bit strange, don'tyou?" she asked finally after too long a silence.
"Nope, not strange, just a bit different."He smiled at her again.
Kate felt his smile clear down to her toes.What a strange reaction, she mused silently. It was like afluttering or something.
"Well, I am a bit strange. I've been tied tothis place ever since we came here. Jim didn't care for me talkingto the town's people. I never realized until he died exactly howcontrolling he was. He was ten years older than me." She told him."I guess in a way, I looked up to him. I mean, he had one of thenicest farms around, and people always talked about how hard heworked."
"Did you know him long?"
"Oh yes, we were neighbors for years. Heknew my folks and when they died, he came around to check onme."
"Well, I guess that was good of him."
"Yeah, I guess it was." She nodded.
"Was there a reason he didn't want yousocializing with others?" Wes asked.
"I don't know. I was pretty young when myfolks died and I don't know, he was more like a father to me, thananything." She muttered aloud. "I been thinking on it a while nowand I kinda got in the habit of minding him, like a father."
"I suppose that would be natural too. Whydid you wait so long to marry him?"
"I got to where I could take care of myselfpretty well. My Momma taught me to grow a fine garden, so I atewell, as she saved the seeds for us every year. Taught me how toplant and nourish the soil. So I ate good. Jim would bring me milkonce a week from his cow, the place we had was paid for. But Jimdidn't ask me to wed until a year ago."
"Oh, why is that?"
"He said I was too young to wed, said peoplewould talk, and he advised me not to let some young man takeadvantage of me. But he never really courted me, just sorta sawafter me. And his folks weren't fond of me. It wasn't a romantickind of relationship, like you are thinking. I think he simplywanted a place of his own, and his family wanted him to roothimself there, forever. He knew I could cook and clean house."
"I don't understand, why wasn't itromantic?" Wes looked at her.
"I think it was because I was a reader. Ihad some education, not much, but more than most boys got backhome. I noticed a long time ago, in school how boys didn't likegirls who could out read or write them. I guess they thought I wasbragging when I told them about all the books I'd read."
"He couldn't read then?"
"No, none of his folks could either. Theydidn't see the need for it. But my Momma taught me to read before Ieven went to school. I was a fast learner too. And I had my head inbooks ever since." She smiled at him.
"Nothing wrong with that. Did you ever tryto teach him to read?"
"I tried, but he got the notion in his headit wasn't that important. He was a farmer and he saw no need of it.I guess it was just the way he was raised."
"I like a good book myself every now andthen."
"You do?" She looked surprised. "Well,remind me and I'll let you read my books. I've read them all, manytimes."
He looked at her now, their glances meeting,"Well, thank you."
"I have plenty of books, and I've rereadevery one of them several times. When I get tired of them, I readthe bible."
"Well, now, that's a good thing." Weschuckled.
"You can borrow any of my books if youlike." She told him.
"That's right nice of you, ma'am."
She glanced at him now, "You don't have toma'am me. You can call me Kate."
"Alright, Kate." He grinned again.
Dickens was washing down his hogs andcreating a hog waller for them too when they rode up to hisplace.
"Kate, good to see you again," Dickens putthe pail down and came striding up to the wagon, helping herdown.
"Hi Mister Dickens, good to see you too."Kate smiled. "We brought some more corn for you. But you ought tohave enough for a while now."
Dickens shook his head, "You just keepbringing what you got."
"But surely, you won't need any more for awhile."
"Now Kate, you don't understand." He beganwalking her to the house, offering her coffee.
"I guess I don't, why don't you enlightenme." She smiled at him.
"En—what?" Dickens twisted his head ather.
"Tell me about it." Kate chuckled.
"Well now, there are at least ten familiesabout that depend on me to help them out every year. Every year Itry to figure out how I can keep them going. Some have lots ofkids, lots of mouths to feed, and some can't seem to turn a profit.So I take them what I can to keep them from losing their place andstarvin' to death. It's that
