Bohanin's Last Days (2011)
““There’s a place to wash up back here,” Lance said.
Bohanin hung his hat next to Lance’s and looked about dining room for the school teacher. He followed the cowboy through the central hall by the stairs, past his own room, into the back porch. Several wash basins and pitchers lined the wall on a narrow table. Bohanin removed his coat and joined the cowboy at the next basin. After the men washed up, Lance removed his gun belt and spurs.
“Mrs. Johnson don’t allow no gun rigs or spurs at ...the table,” he said.
Bohanin nodded and removed his gun belt.
Mrs. Johnson came through the swinging door from the kitchen carrying a large crock of dumplings in one arm and a bowl of mashed potatoes in the other. She smiled at Dawdrey Lance.
“Dawdrey. It is good to see you. Come for a bite to eat, did ya?” she asked.
“Yes um, if you’ve a plate to spare,”MoreLess
Bohanin hung his hat next to Lance’s and looked about dining room for the school teacher. He followed the cowboy through the central hall by the stairs, past his own room, into the back porch. Several wash basins and pitchers lined the wall on a narrow table. Bohanin removed his coat and joined the cowboy at the next basin. After the men washed up, Lance removed his gun belt and spurs.
“Mrs. Johnson don’t allow no gun rigs or spurs at ...the table,” he said.
Bohanin nodded and removed his gun belt.
Mrs. Johnson came through the swinging door from the kitchen carrying a large crock of dumplings in one arm and a bowl of mashed potatoes in the other. She smiled at Dawdrey Lance.
“Dawdrey. It is good to see you. Come for a bite to eat, did ya?” she asked.
“Yes um, if you’ve a plate to spare,”MoreLess
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