[ There's plenty where that came from. Maybe it's just a sign of how much the pioneers love their coffee, or maybe it's just that with light at the end of the tunnel it's less necessary to scrimp on the grounds, but the coffee actually isn't that bad, or anywhere near as watered down as it had been even a few days before. Sam can appreciate it, anyway, but then he'd grown up getting his coffee out of a motel vending machine; any kind of coffee flavored water was better than that.

He looked the guy over, then moved a little to one side to make room, disturbing Riot, who was trying hard to ignore the laughing and dancing so he could get some sleep. There were blankets rolled up on the ground beside the fire, which made it a little more comfortable to sit down there than in the dirt, and the stranger looked like he was taking care not to get his suit scuffed. It was a nice suit, even for the over the top color. Way nicer than anything Sam had ever owned, anyway.

He chose to keep his feelings about hay mattresses and horsehair pillows to himself. ]

Yeah. I've honestly never been so wet in my life. I think it's gone down to the bone.

I'm not going to miss the saddle sores much, either. You?