It continued to snow. The record-breaking cold could have been responsible for the strained temperaments of all, but in truth it was the uncertainty of their futures. Winter lagging into spring and cabin fever only enhanced the sour dispositions. On four occasions, Winston and Roan walked into town for groceries, bottles, diapers, blankets, and infant clothing. Although they had first tried to unbury Winston's car, which remained stuck on the roadside, then Roan's, both tasks proved futile. The long walks had been more exhausting than either man had imagined, but they'd sweetened the bitter cold, grueling journeys with stops at Shortby's for well-deserved pints of ale. There were few patrons during each visit, but the two men hadn't entered the establishment to socialize. They had barely spoken to each other, and just downed enough beer to satisfy their needy taste buds and their bellies before returning to the seemingly close confines of Baird House. Although the boys were the least edgy these days, they were tired of the indoors.
