“They spent an uncomfortable night and slumbered little, but the dream had stayed away and for that Kane was grateful. The dawn shaded gray from night and when the marshal woke from a shallow sleep, Sam was already up and had coffee on the fire. “They’re pullin’ out, Logan,” the old man said as Kane joined him, stretching knots out of his back. “So I see,” the marshal said. He glanced at the Hook wagon and then the ashen sky. “At least the rain has quit.” “For a spell at least,” Sam said. His ey...es lifted slyly to Kane. “Sleep all right, Marshal?” “Did I call out?” “Nah. Not a sound. First time in a while, mind you.” “Then I slept all right.” Kane squatted and built his first cigarette of the day. The trees around him were ticking water and the creek had spilled over its banks, swollen by the storm. The air was cool and smelled of dampness and decaying vegetation. Lorraine had hitched the Percherons, and Hook was up on the box, the reins in his hands. The man had some kind of grease on his face, and the eyes he turned to Kane were cold and hostile.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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