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May Chubb
May had not at all been expecting that from her grandfather. For a moment she longed try and explain exactly what she was feeling, but then, she’d already done that back in Bree. It wouldn’t do anybody any good to start whining now, she supposed. May kept her eyes on the ground. “I’m alright, Grandpa,” she said with as much cheer as she could muster, but behind her long lashes tears pricked her eyes.
Her grandfather stopped, and gently cupped her chin in his hands. “Look at me, May,” he said very softly. “Are you sure you’re alright? There’s nothing you want to talk about?”
Mayflower swallowed hard before meeting Grandpa Forgo’s steady gaze. “No, I’m okay,” she replied, forcing a small smile.
He looked at her skeptically, then turned back to the road. He was silent for a long moment, then said in a tender voice she had never heard him use before, “May, you know that if you ever need anything, I’m here for you.” Then, without turning to look at her, he spurred his pony on up the road.
May watched him ride on ahead, and the tears that had refused to fall all this long while came hard and fast. “I know that, Grandpa,” she whispered. “I know.”
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