[Arry]

Woody was disquieted at what Wren had said. Where were their aunts and uncles, he wondered; their cousins or second cousins who would take them in? If Ma and Da were to die, he thought, there were any number of kin who would take Woody and Hanson and their brothers and sisters under their wing.

Tramping about alone! Woody couldn’t fathom doing that. He looked at Hanson, bent over the kittens a smile on his little face. ‘How scared I would feel,’ thought Woody, ‘if Hanson had only me to rely on.’ He glanced toward Tim wondering if the other boy ever felt that way. Woody’s brow puckered as he thought more about Tim and Wren. ‘I’ll talk to Uncle Gil about it,’ he said to himself. ‘He’ll know what to do.’ His problem resolved for the moment he made his way to Hanson and the kittens.

By the gracious leave of the patient mama cat, the four were soon holding the drowsy, milk-filled kittens and chatting. The basket was opened and food and drink shared about.

-----

An hour later or so, Hanson’s ears pricked up as a familiar voice called out both his and Woody’s names. ‘It’s Uncle Gil,’ he said by way of explanation to Wren and her brother. ‘I think it’s time for us to be heading home . . .’