Irene dutifully wrote down the names.  Marcus Smith.  The name was familiar.  But, Marcus was a right common name.  Josiah Carter could be Joe Carter, she mused.  He was a rich man, but he was tetched in the head, always talking about the railroad coming to Oasis.  He bought whatever he could get his hands on.  And, he often resold it at a profit.<br/><br/>Sharing her memories with Sam, she shrugged.  "I didn't get anything because they said the taxes hadn't been paid in years and the sale of the property would just cover the taxes."  She smiled at Sam.  "I have a very nice set of sterling silver flatware in a velvet lined box in the bottom drawer of that dresser you seemed to like so much."  She frowned.  "It was my grandmother's and I wasn't going to let anyone else have it.  The furniture...well, without money to hire movers or a horse on which to pack it, I let it go.  I kept my clothes, Sam.  But, it's been five years and I've altered most things to suit my new lifestyle."<br/><br/>She leaned closer to Sam.  "Timothy never hit me, but, like I said, he wasn't a compassionate man.  If he ever truly loved someone..." Irene looked at Sam, "half as much as I love you already, I don't know what he'd have been like.  But, he was angry.  Mad at the world."