The short, narrow-shouldered man rode south from the high hill country of the East Pryor. He’d followed the Apsaruke trail for the better part of the day. Red dust stained the sorrel’s fetlocks a dark pink. On the ridges of the far mountain a light dusting of snow had fallen above the timberline. Only a [...]
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A full moon hung low over Cottonwood Canyon. It was bright and clear and so very, very large in the boy’s eyes; so bright the cottonwood trees cast long shadows over the two men he watched working. In the tall branches not far from where he stood an owl hooted again and again. Night birds [...] |
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