Ruby

Dear Mama: I’ve been in Meadow a year and a month. It isn’t like Hinckley, my pretty little place. I miss you. I miss the straight streets, the trees and gardens. The dry farm acres are brushed and planted now and my hands have almost healed. I won’t work brushing and burning ever again without gloves. I was so foolish. I lost my wedding band in that brush and though Lewis hunted two days, he neve...