Rose of Sharon listlessly followed orders. “Ya think Connie’ll be back today?”
“Maybe—maybe not. Can’t tell.”
“You sure he knows where-at to come?”
“Sure.”
“Ma—ya don’ think—they could a killed him when they burned-?”
“Not him,” Ma said confidently. “He can travel when he wants jackrabbit-quick an’ fox-sneaky.”
“I wisht he’d come.”
“He’ll come when he comes.”
“Ma—”
“I wisht you’d get to work.”