At Risk

Cover At Risk
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Genres: Fiction
I slowed to a crawl when I saw a three-story brick home set close to the road. One-hundred feet beyond, I braked to a halt next to the wide doors of a bank barn. I got out and stretched, then lifted my notebook off the dash and looked around. The pasture's tidy four-board fence dipped and rose with the hilly terrain, and the trees that were clumped on hillsides too steep to be mown were in full bud, their colors an echo of autumn.
I heard a scuffing noise behind me and turned to see a tall, bro
...ad-shouldered man, going fat round the middle, walking toward me down the steep, gravel drive across the road. The driveway led to a red pole-building that served as in indoor riding arena. A girl on a heavily-muscled gray with a naturally high head carriage trotted past the open doorway.
He held out his hand. "George Irons. You're Foxdale's manager?" His eyebrows rose, and I saw in his brown eyes a rapid assessment of my age and a hint of surprise.
I shook his hand. "Barn manager, yes." Although it had been warm enough at Foxdale, it was chilly here, where the steep wooded hills channeled cooler air along the valley floor.
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Guest 7 months ago

"The smooth wood of a violin is "not tucked under any one's chin. There is bo contact between the wood and the chin, there is a chinrest, which these days is made of either bakelite or plastic, but definitely NOT wood.

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