Wanna finished her work in the house and came outside, where Jack huddled in his chair and looked out across the hills. He smiled at her preoccupied expression and motioned for her to sit down beside him. She came closer, but did not sit down.
“What’s the matter, little girl?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
Wanna shook her head.
“I know.” He laughed softly. “You’re getting tired of living out here in the wilderness. I don’t blame you. I think I’ll go away about tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” she asked quickly. “You going away?”
“Well”—he smiled crookedly—“I can’t stay here any longer. Your father don’t like me, Wanna.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. He don’t want me to talk to you.”
“Don’t he?”