The days passed, and because there was little to do, Emma began to find them tedious. She still cherished a desire to shop in Independence, but she had given up hope of doing it, for Joe was working all day long and there was no one else whom she would trust with the children. Because Barbara knew how her mother felt, she contained her own crushing disappointment and said nothing. Then the bomb exploded. Joe came to lunch, but instead of rising and going right back to work, which was his usual routine, he lingered at the table.
"Your afternoon off, Emma," he said cheerfully. "I'll wash the dishes."
"But—"
"I'm going to let the mules rest this afternoon," he ran a hand through his shaggy hair, "and I've been doing some pondering. I pondered that you and Bobby might like to see some of Independence. Go ahead. Take some money along so you can buy yourselves something."
Emma felt a leaping excitement which immediately conflicted with a strong sense of duty. She wanted desperately to go even while she thought of numberless reasons why she should not.
"Go ahead," Joe laughed. "It's all planned."
"Well, if you're certain—"
"I'm certain, and I'll take care of the kids. Now hurry up and get started."
Emma put her arms around Joe's neck in a quick, tight hug. Barbara, astonished at the unusual show of emotion, giggled, and then followed suit.
Emma and Barbara dressed in the wagon, and for the first time Emma regretted desperately the fact that she had not brought one of her prettier dresses. But she did the best she could, and her heart leaped when Joe looked admiringly at her. Emma glanced at her daughter, radiant in a simple brown dress, and pride swelled within her.