“I’ll tell him,” said Dawn wearily. “He likes you. But I hope nobody else comes.”
“I hope to gosh he don’t mistake me for anybody else.”
Dawn climbed into the buggy, while Roaring untied the horse.
“Why did Jimmy Moran’s father come here?” she asked.
Roaring tied up the rope carefully, looked the patched harness over and stepped aside.
“Don’t you know?” she asked.
“You better ask Jimmy,” he said. “He knows more ’n I do about it.”
“Was it about me, Roaring?”
Roaring leaned back against a porchpost and looked at the horse.
“Don’t let that git you down,” he said softly. “Lotsa parents are like that; they prob’ly didn’t pick so well themselves and they want to try and help the kids.”