"Yes, ma'am."
Mrs. Dimmock looked from one of them to the other, and then, slowly, to Nehemiah. "And you'll let this happen?"
"It isn't mine to let," Nehemiah said. "I tried deciding for her once." He was looking at the girl, and his voice was low. "Kez. If you'd rather stay here, I'll find a way. I'll hire a woman. I'll sell some stock and hire Mrs. Salcido from the section house, that's respectable enough for anybody. You don't have to go to town."
Keziah looked at him for a long time.
"I'd like to go to town," she said. "I'd like to learn the case. But I'd like to come home Saturdays. If you'd fetch me."
"Every Saturday," Nehemiah said. "Every Saturday God sends."
"And you'll talk to me. When you fetch me. In the wagon. Eleven miles there's time."
He swallowed. "I'll talk to you."