“And?” She cocked a brow daring him to put his foot down.
“No,” she said and walked away leaving the rest of his words rushing off the cliff of his final thought like the bison’s being chased off the cliffs to their certain death by Indians.
His chest deflated. He crumbled to the floor in a terrible puddle with nary a shred of pride to hold the pieces together.
She wasn’t coming back. He could count on that. She said so herself and he knew it to be utterly true.
Now what was he to do? Who would clean his house AND do his windows?
Certainly not Maria.