“Tucker eyed the boy’s burned cheeks and the sunburned stripe of scalp dividing his white-blond hair, and winced in sympathy. How did I not notice one of my men riding around without a hat? “Charge before last, sir.” Porter Creevey, the young man in charge of the outfit’s horse remuda, bowed his head. The vantage point displayed his sunburn even more brilliantly. “We’ll get you a hat as we go past town today.” Luckily, there were enough outposts scattered on this side of the trail after Monument... Hill for them to get this taken care of. A cowboy without a hat wouldn’t make it far. It wasn’t a question of if he’d die. It was a question of how long until he succumbed to sunstroke or dehydration. “It’s Sunday.” Creevey sounded apologetic as he broke the bad news, but Tucker understood. Finding a shopkeeper who’d do business on the Lord’s Day could get tricky. Giving the order to keep the herd grazing and let them drift north at a leisurely pace, Tucker took the kid to town.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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