*Isabella*
Ma’s been sittin’ up all night with the shotgun clutched in her arms. She’s on the seat of the wagon, starin’ out at the distance to her right as I get up and start tendin’ the fire. I know she’s watchin’ for Pa.
Last night, she was afraid Sanders was gonna come cause trouble while Pa was away. He didn’t, but then, who would mess with my ma when she’s sittin’ there, armed, ready to unload.
I get some coffee and bacon going before I approach her. “Ma? You wanna go rest?” I say quietly, not wantin’ to alarm her and end up accidentally shot. “I can manage.”
“Yer pa will be here soon,” she says, her voice hoarse from bein’ up all night. “He just told me they’re movin’ the wagons out. They’re only a half a mile or so away.”
“Good. Rest up. Ain’t no one gonna mess with us now,” I
