I didn't say I was going to find the Mad Monk."
"But you will," he said, placing his worn and stained Stetson on his head. "You've got that look about you.
"What look is that?" I asked, tired of his family maligning mine. "A Goodnight look?"
"A responsible one." He adjusted his hat, in a motion I'd seen Ben make a dozen times that day, right before he drove home his point. "Like you're the girl who takes care of things. So take care of it, dammit.

Autore: Rosemary Clement-Moore