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Hi Casey,
I finally talked one of my rancher neighbors into visiting me at the Range. She’s an older woman named Thora. She’s been here longer than anyone in the Exchange. Its less of showing off my personal touch on the place so much as a desire for human company, I guess. The two of us sat in rocking chairs on my porch. We must have been a sight. Two ranchers slowly rocking to the sounds of nature and chickens. I had talked for what must have been an hour straight about my discoveries and thoughts and plans, and she listened quietly, smiling the whole time. But at some point I ran out of words and embraced the silence. Hard to believe, right?
At some point Thora started asking questions about me, which naturally ended up to talking about you. I couldn’t read her face for a long while. It seemed like she understood though. Us. She said I reminded her of Hobson in a lot of ways and was glad I was the one who owns the Range now. I noticed the tears on my face, then. I don’t know how long they had been there.
Before she left, Thora made me promise that I wouldn’t stop writing to you. She gave me a serious look that reminded me of your grandmother, but she didn’t need to. I made this promise to Thora, and I make it to you as well.
I will never stop writing to you.
-Bea