When the sound of the wagon was close enough to the cabin to be heard, Daron placed his patch of knitted yarn upon the table and took station at the window, standing to the side of it and peering around it to keep watch. He kept his stance in tense focus as the wagon drew near. His mind raced over what to do with the possibilities of who could possibly be arriving, and what to say. He'd have the deed ready for proof of ownership. He'd have some gold coin ready if there was a collection for property tax already being made. Hopefully it wouldn't be a county sheriff looking for the child, or him, or Whitney. The wait for the arrival seemed to be interminable to Daron as he watched the procession. His body relaxed and he put himself into open view behind the window when the wagon came to a stop and he saw a lady emerge from the passenger compartment, holding one young child by the hand in each of her own as she stood upon the ground to assist them out. The driver of the wagon kept to himself and stared blankly away from them as they disembarked. With the children out, the woman reached into the wagon and pulled a large stuffed sack out, which she struggled to lift towards her and fell to the ground once it was pulled free. The woman said "thank you" out loud to the driver, who said nothing in response and snapped the reins down to compel the horse to move. The horse and carriage drew a large circle and left the three persons behind. The woman watched the carriage trail off with a visible sigh, then turned to the sack on the ground. She clenched the end of it tightly with both hands and began to drag it on the dirt, pulling it towards the house in sharp tugs which conveyed little distance. The children were too little to offer any assistance and merely walked in her wake. Her handling of the bag caused Daron to think of his handling of Whitney and caused him to briefly shudder. He quickly left the cabin and went outside to approach the beleaguered woman.
"You're taking that here, I assume, ma'am?"
"Yes. Can I please ask for your help?"
Daron was already walking over to the woman as she asked for his assistance and wordlessly took the bag up and heaved it over his back, then stood beside her.
"Let's return to the cabin, ma'am."
She demurely said thanks and walked in the lead towards the doorway. Daron nodded to the children who stared at him blankly until the woman's urging caused them to follow her. Jesse stood attentively by his seat at the table as they entered. Daron gently laid the bag to the side of the doorway before closing it shut, then addressed the woman with a faint bow at the waist.
"Well uh, welcome to our home, ma'am. I was not expecting any kind of visitor. My name is Daron, the child's name is Jesse."
"Nice to meet you. I am Mrs. Whitney Poole."
Daron felt the blood rush from her face as she spoke the name. His mind rushed over the immediate future and the possible permutations for how this situation would resolve.
"Is my husband nearby?"
"I uh, um. I'm afraid to tell you Mrs. Poole that um, no, he isn't. There was a, a uh, a recent accident. He had an unfortunate accident, ma'am."
"What ever do you mean? Was he taken to a hospital of some kind?"
Daron ruminated and darted his eyes upon the ground. Now it all made sense. Now everything that had happened finally made sense. The attack was no sudden wild impulse, nor was it a drunken rampage. It was his plan all along. Whitney did that with the intent to make room for his family to move in.
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