She could sometimes hear him talking to the men, even over the creak of the wagon wheels. He didn't miss his wife that much--they had lost the habit of one another and might not be able to reacquire it. Roscoe decided the best approach was to pretend a dream was happening, though he knew quite well it wasn't. Roscoe was dead, Joe was dead, the girl was dead, and Ellie not found--maybe she too was dead.
She had tender expressions--more tender than any he had even seen. He was trying to reload and watch for rocks, too, squinting into the darkness. I know, Captain, Soupy said. He was doubly glad he was alone, for if the men had heard him they would have thought him daft.
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