#dadball

Greaseball ignored the crys from the other room. He felt sick, alone, hollow. A week since they put his Dinah into the ground, two weeks since he had seen her die. Two weeks since he had been alone.

The others is the yard had helped as much as they could. Momma came by and looked after... Their baby girl. Caboose and Electra had made sure he had enough to look after the new little carriage and Rusty and Pearl had tried their best to help him through this.

But how could he, he had lost his Dinah, his wife, his breath, his life. And now that haunting reminder stay screaming in the other room.

He knew he'd have to do something. She's to young to cry herself to sleep. But he couldn't bring himself to move. Dinah was the one who knew this stuff. She read all the book, she told him what to do.

He slowly got up from the chair, his legs shaking as he walked to his daughters room. He stopped at the door feeling the tears come again. He was sure they'd stop, sure they'd finally go away. Momma said it would take time. She talked about how she was when she lost Poppa. But this was different.

He slowly opend the door moving towards the cot. He looked at his daughter. He knew he couldn't say, but she looked like her. Sure her hair was pink but her face, that nose was Dinah's, her eyes as well. He looked in them enough to know at a glance.

Softly he ran his thumb over her face, her crying stopping slightly at her farthers touch. He picked her up sliding down to the floor holding her.

"It's okay.. Your okay.. I know"

He whisperd the tears coming as his daughter quieted.