Bryce thought of something.  “Besides, young lady, school term starts back next month.  You are going to finish.  That is what you are going to concentrate on.  I want you go further than your mother and I did.  We`ll work something out.”

            Patsy flipped the eight biscuits she had patted out with a spatula she had fashioned from the remains of a wooden roofing shingle.  She pulled the hefty-sized coffee pot from the fore and set it close enough to insure it would stay warm

            “Very well, until we can work something out I`ve got the run of the house.”

            “Done,” Bryce said.  He went over to the cupboard he had made and retrieved one of the deep tin mugs that was one of the few things that survived his great cleaning frenzy.  He reached down and touched the handle to the coffee pot.  It was too hot to pick up barehanded.  Patsy draped a beat up rag over his extended arm.  He took the hint and used it as a pot holder.  He poured the steaming, black liquid into the mug until it was almost filled to the brim.  Bryce reached over and quickly plucked two biscuits from the hearth; one for now and one for later.  He bit into the one for now.  It did not have the same flakiness as Anna’s but Bryce was sure they would improve with time.  He stepped out the back door and collected a shovel, mattock and axe for the day’s work.  He moved off toward the creek to take care of matters in his delegated domain.

            Bryce looked up from his work and saw Patsy following the well-worn path out to the creek.  She carried a large wooden bucket with her with the handle of a ladle protruding over the rim.  She had made it a practice to come out to him in the field to replenish his water and let him know how much longer it would be before lunch.  She ran her fingers behind her right ear to knock a strand of her thick, long brown hair from out of her eyes.