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Grayson closed the door to the barn and looked over the fields towards the west, as the sun was setting. The horizon was an unbroken line and he followed it with his still youngish eyes. Nothing moved out there, not right now. People had been coming all through the day, as he was working the fields and animals, riding, walking, or driving wagons. Farmers, of course. Nothing else to do out here, in what used to be Dakota Territory. He refused to call it by the name his neighbors were using. "Come with, Grayson" they had said as they rode by. First he had yelled and screamed. Then he had shook his head and looked at them as if they were crazy. Then, finally, he had just ignored them, attending to his work.

He walked into the main house, from which the smell of his wife's cooking came. They had not been blessed with any children, so she and the food were all that welcomed him as he stepped into the kitchen. She looked at him with her green eyes, of late saddened, as his were enraged and slowly turning bitter. He sat down and she put food on his plate. They ate in silence.

"The Joneses came by while you were down by the creek." she said after a while. "Wanted to hear if we were coming."

"What did you tell them?" Grayson asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Just no." she said simply and continued her meal. Grayson grunted and downed the rest of the meal. He watched her clear the table, and as she started the dishes, he got the Good Book out and tried to find something fitting. To himself, although he said nothing to his wife, he thought that nothing the Good Lord had written could have foreseen the predicament they were in. Blasphemy, of course. He knew it. Still...