Weeks and weeks had passed by, like listless grass blowing down the dirt lane, since she had returned home. Still, no one was going to challenge Dorothy as the saddest person in Seward County, perhaps in all of West Kansas. Not the moping cows, not even the Rogers family who lost their grain silo, two sons, and a new tractor in a freak silo toppling could compete. “Why was I so gung ho to come back to this puke bucket of a town?” she whispered inside her head. “Auntie Em is nice, but as exciting and dumb as a door post. And Uncle Henry? His breath reeks of wet corn and all he was really interested in was prepping for the winter hunt. Guns, cleaning guns, oiling guns, guns. With seismic sighs, she resolved herself to be a spinster who would watch the world drive past, right on through Liberal, ...