With her chin she pointed to the house. “Don’t you trust her none. She ain’t my ma-Folley wasn’t really my pa, neither. My pa was kin and Folley, he wanted the land pa left so they took me in. Don’t you trust her none at all- she’s worse’n Folley was. I’ll ride slow goin’ in, and I’ll do like you say when I git there. Lissen here, Dard, you sure Dessie’s gonna be all right?”
“She is if we can get back to her. She’ll have a chance to live the way she ought to—”
The small eyes in the girl’s pasty face were shrewd. “And that’s a promise! You git outta here and take her too. I’ll make up a good story for ’em. I ain’t,” she suddenly smiled at him, “I ain’t near as dumb as I look, Dard Nordis, even if I ain’t one of your kind!”
She scrambled awkwardly into the saddle and slapped the ends of the reins so that the horse broke into a trot.
Dard went back to the house and sat down at the table with a better appetite. Kimber broke off man-sized bites of apple tart, and between them he addressed his junior.
“Now that it’s day, I’ve been thinking that we may be able to check the bus over ourselves. You, woman,” he said to their unwilling hostess, “can you direct them on to join us if we don’t return?”
Dard pressured Kimber’s foot with the toe of his boot in warning. And received a return nudge of acknowledgement.
“Which way you goin’?” she asked. Dard thought that some of her deference was gone. Was she beginning to suspect that she was not really entertaining two of the new lords of the land?
“North. We’ll leave a trail, have to back track on your own. Suppose you put us up some grub so we’ll have something at noon. And just send the repair crew along.”
“Yes, noble sirs.”