The landscape is still saturated with rain, its edges blurred and softened. Clouds gather low over the mountains, signalling another storm.
Ava's truck is a less comfortable ride than the town-car but it handles the rough roads a lot better. Here he is, leaving Harlan again and already thinking about the next time he'll have to go back - to return Ava's truck, to retrieve his car.
He wonders if it's worth the resistance, the fight; and he wonders, sometimes, just what it is he's fighting.
He thinks about the night on the mountain, all the things that were said during those dark hours.
"Hey," Winona touches his arm, "you okay?"
"I'm fine." Her features are heavy with the need for sleep and part of the time her eyes have been closed - just resting them, she says, when she jerks awake - and she blinks at him slowly. Her hands are folded protectively over the swell of their unborn.
"I, uh-" He grips the wheel a little tighter. "Is it okay if we stop off before heading back to Lexington?"
"Stop off here in Harlan?"
"Yes."
Her eyes wander over his face. "That's fine." She settles back in her seat.
Something that Boyd had said when they all had sat down to breakfast comes back to him. Said in lieu of grace, perhaps, and he's pretty certain that it's one of Boyd's beloved quotes but he likes it even so. And when he glances sideways at Winona, head cushioned against her hand and her breathing deep and regular, he thinks it fitting: All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.