Sleeping in the cramped trundle bed with Pa so near was making her something of a night owl. She heard all manner of things that never made it upstairs-his snoring, the scurrying of mice, the settling and shifting of the fire. Now, just as the mantel clock struck four, she came wide-awake at the opening of her bedroom door. She lay completely still, Pa's snoring finally giving way to coughing and masking the movement she so wanted to hear.Red Shirt ... leaving?He was familiar enough with their cabin now that he knew where to step on the stairs to avoid their creaking. Silent as a cat he came down, his silhouette tall and dark in the firelight as he stopped briefly at the hearth and moved soundlessly through the cabin. A blast of icy air reached her in the few seconds it took for him to open and shut the front door. Perhaps he'd simply gone out to relieve himself. He had a natural sense of decorum that made him shun the chamber pot beneath her bed. Sometimes she sensed he felt her room was little more than a cage, that he was as confined as a bear in a trap.
What do You think about Courting Morrow Little: A Novel?
