'Sort'a, anyhow, she's a good one, cuts nails like a machine an' can shoe a horse good as I can. She does me when the wife's away, too. Could get a ri...e ought'a granite grave marker. Hah. You'll see."We stabled the animals, and the smith yelled, "Mickey, where are ya?"The girl came running in, smiling. She wore a shapeless dress that fell open at the top and reached just below her knees. She was barefoot. Her dark hair hung far down her back. I think she probably could have sat on it. She was. "Are you okay?" I asked, squatting down to help her pick up the cans and food that was scattered during the altercation."Good, good," she answered in a choppy fashion. Maybe she didn't know much English, but since that's all she said, I didn't know. I rebagged what I'd picked up, and she'd been doing the same, then just retreated down there hall to another door and looked at me again, kind of weird, starting into my soul type look. I wondered if she was alone, I thought so, since I'd not. More

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