"I know she is," David replied in disgust. "Everybody knows that."
Dr. Finney held onto Misty's halter. "Don't you worry, Paul. I'll sleep in the stall next to her, and I'll stay within sight and sound during her foaling period."
"You promise?"
"I promise."
It was almost dark when Grandpa and Paul crossed the state line back into Virginia.
"Tradin' whets my appetite," Grandpa confided to Paul. "What d'ye say we stop by Wallops Station and have some nice hot Red Cross food with Grandma and Maureen?"
"What about our goats? Shouldn't we hurry home and put them in the hay house with Billy Blaze and Watch Eyes? They got to get used to being with horses."
Grandpa wasn't listening. A flicker of a smile crossed his face. "Don't interrupt me, son. My mind's turnin' over important thoughts."
The refugee room looked much the same, except for more cots and more people. And it still smelled of old rubber and leather and steamy woolen socks.