They ain’t even his, she thought. If they was his at least they’d be family. If they was his, at least they’d have good blood. But no.

They belonged to another man – common, bound to be – and some town girl. With skinny hips and a skinny waist.

“Lay with ‘em but don’t bring ‘em home. And whatever you do don’t marry ‘em!”

Ain’t she always told all her boys that. Ain’t she always done right by them, with no man and only the good book to guide her.