Bitterroot Valley Who is Not Without Sin

Warm den and a spot to hunt, was there really any more to life than that? A place to eat, to sleep? Friends beside you? Barrett figured, then, that maybe that was all anyone really needed in life. Hell, it was good enough for him.
Well, y'know what comes with win'er, he said, tone carrying implications. Just think it'd be nice ta have some lil' ones scurryin' about, almost paternal. Found himself longing for something similiar.
O'course yer not ready, yer still just a girl, Barrett pointed out, smiling, still. Cheeks would begin to hurt, soon, if he kept this up. Oh, ain't no doubt about me wantin' some'a my own. Just don't know how great I'd be, 's the thing, gave a shrug. A careful roll of his shoulders. Barrett looked away and let his face fall into a neutral expression, before musing:
Reckon if I 'ad a boy, I'd name 'im Isaac, there was a pain that flickered behind his eyes. Or a girl, maybe Mary, or Beatrice. Like 'em both. Fancy sounding names, to him. Wanted to be able to give his kids that sort of life. Provide for them, the proper way.
He chuckled, now. Still, things change. Not so sure 'bout any'a that.