Everything she owned fit in that bag—the one the family lent her, the “overnighter.“ A spare top that Miss Kathryn handed down. Two pairs of summer things, two pairs of warm things. Five socks. Various coins in a snap purse. A brush for her hair and salt rag for her teeth.She’d been standing there—bag in hand—for close to half an hour, but in her glory.
At the sound of horse hooves, Kathryn emerged from the Kinsman residence. Her feet hit the bottom step precisely as the horses came to a halt.
