Martha emerged at a hobbling run, apron-girded. Despite the glow, her face darkened.
“You give a body a turn,” she grumbled. “I almost thought ’twas the Golden City coming down.”
“ ’Tis nigh as good,” he retorted boldly, “bein’ as Jinny was same as gone there. And bless me, ef she don’t look ghosty!”
“Good morning, Jinny!” said Martha coldly. “We don’t need a carrier now—with our coach to get everything.”
Jinny’s cheeks turned far from “ghosty.” “I haven’t come to you—only to Mr. Flippance.”
“But he gets everything, too, through Willie.”
“I know that—I merely want to speak to him.”
“You can’t now.”
“The missus means he’s abed,” Caleb explained, rushing to Jinny’s relief, and indeed the information brought a smile back to her twitching lips. “Minds me of a great old tortoise, diggin’ hisself into his blankets. Do him good to be up with the sun, same as when Oi was a scarecrow, soon as the wheat was sown.”
“You don’t want to tell everybody you began as a scarecrow,” said Martha frigidly.