They'd never say it, of course, never confess that sometimes what they have isn't enough, that sometimes the loneliness comes creeping in, but they're used to it by now. It's to be expected, of course. Nobody could spend as much time alone as they do, without feeling a little bit forlorn. The excitement of their adventures is never enough to wholly banish that.
Sometimes, they'll pass through some northern town, and it will cross Lee's mind that here would be a good place to settle, Women, whisky, cards, what more could he and Hester want? Then the old longing to be back in Texas will fill them again and they'll have to move on. Take another job, and another one, so as they can make enough money to sell the balloon and go home.
The thing is, Lee's not sure if Texas is home anymore. How can he fit back in there, re-assimilate, when he's seen so many things that those people down there can never dream of? He's had the northern lights in his eyes, the snow in his hair, the friendship of an ice-bear of all creatures. He's fought in wars that aren't even stories for the Texans. What could there be for him back there? (Land, cattle, horses, bourbon whisky, the evening wind over the sage, boyhood dreams fulfilled.)
Then Hester will nibble his fingers, and sharply remind him that he's dallying again, wasting time when there's so much more to see and do. So they'll go on, roving across the Arctic, sometimes stopping for a while, sometimes drifting southwards again, but always pushing onwards.
Maybe they'll settle down. But maybe, just maybe, they never will.