(Art by mr.stevestyle) A sequel to this.
She held her bisque-headed doll, Elspeth—and peeped out between her parents. Peter rode in the occiput of the congested wagon on some boxes of store goods. His dark hair—like McCutcheon's was matted with sweat. He held a Remington and rubbed its stock.
"Trail's practically beaten us—but we shall be there soon," McCutcheon said.
"This is arid full of hooligans!" Maud grumbled." It's common. We are raising our children common. It's horrendous for a McCutcheon woman to live like this, and for Resa to be growing up this way."
She turned to the children. "We're the cream in this world, children. Don't ever forget it." Her voice was shrieking.
"I don't see how we're like chalk and cheese from anybody else," said Peter.
"The differences pretty much died with the emancipation—with the end of the plantation," said McCutcheon.
"We're not like everyone else. The new ranch will set us apart. We'll have a fine house, with servants." Maud's melodious Georgia accent played across the meadow.
"Quality. You children must train your eye for quality "
The three rough men rattled out of the trees to the side of the wagon.