"We there yet?" asked Malcolm, stretching up on tiptoes and trying to see over the wagon seat.

"Not yet, honey," Sabrina replied again. "And you need to keep your hat on. Sun's bright and high." She ran a hand through his wind-mussed hair, and then pulled his cowboy hat back into place.

What'd been amusing when Malcolm'd asked the first time - when the ranch was barely fading into the horizon - was now… agitating. She supposed it was her own fault; she'd turned right giddy when Aiden suggested the trip. 'Course their son with his sensitive soul'd picked up on it and been a bundle of excitement ever since. Add in that ten minutes was forever to a four year old, and a long trip was beginning to feel like eternity. Or possibly purgatory.

"You know what helps traveling go lickety-split?" asked Aiden, glancing back at their son.

Malcolm shook his head, face as serious as could be.

"Sleeping. When you sleep, time just flies, now don't it?"

Good thing Aiden was looking straight ahead and not at Malcolm like she was. He'd be laughing too hard to be convincing. Even if it was truth through and through. The child's brow was scrunched up, trying to sort it out. "Why can't I stay awake and have time fly?"

"It just don't work that way. You remember Christmas Eve, don't ya? Did Santa show up faster when you were awake and watchful or when you were all tucked in tight?"

That garnered pushing back his hat and running his hand through his hair - just like when his pa was thinking hard. Sabina held a hand over her mouth to hide her smile.

"When I was tucked in." With a nod he burrowed on into the blankets in the wagon bed ‘til nothing but the top of his head showed. Later, Sabrina would thank God for the blankets, for Aiden's suggestion, for Malcolm's miraculous lack of additional whys and buts.

"You know what helps sleeping?" came Malcolm's muffled voice.

"I dunno. What?" she asked.

"Singing."

She and Aiden shared a smile. Was he wanting a lullaby? Not more than last week he'd insisted ma