Lizzie’s face lit up. “Samson, I am so glad to see you.”
“Lizzie? That you? Lemme hep you down.”
Samson lifted his arms and stopped. Lizzie moved so Samson could see her daughter’s face. “Samson, meet Sophia,” she said shyly.
“Well, isn’t she a picture? Hold on to her, and ah’ll get you both inside.”
Samson picked Lizzie up from the wagon before escorting her to a stool near the kitchen fire. “You picked a cold day to visit us,” Samson said.
Lizzie looked around. “Is Matt here?”
“In front wid Miz Shipman. They clearin’ up from breakfast. I’m sure he’ll be here soon. Ah got to help Mr. Jackson unload.”
Lizzie nodded. Judging by the almost empty stewpot, with its congealing contents still over the fire, Lizzie guessed the wharf workers had finished their breakfast, and it was too early for late-morning patrons. She clutched her babe. This has to work!
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