Elliott motioned for her to sit. He quickly joined her on the comfortable sofa, and reached for her hand. His father smoked a pipe and wisps of smoke curled around his face and the scent of cherry tobacco swirled throughout the room.
His mother sat across from his father, her feet crossed at the ankles, a ball of yarn at her side and whatever she knitted or crocheted on her lap. Both appeared fine if not a little sullen.
"Dad, Mom, have you given any more thought to mining and mineral rights?"
"Sure have, son." His father turned to look at Elliott. "And your mother and I agree with you. We don't even know those two guys or what they do and wouldn't venture into something without your advice."
Elliott looked at his father and then at his mother, who nodded her head. "Okay. I'll stop by
