“Gorman Sweetwater made sure that he showed up in his snazzy pickup promptly at 9:00 A.M. Right on the dot. Which was 9:24. During the drive from Daisy’s secluded home at the mouth of Cañón del Espíritu to her nephew’s equally remote ranch in the high valley between the snowcapped Misery and Buckhorn Ranges, Sarah Frank—with Mr. Zig-Zag napping in her lap—was seated between Daisy and the tribal elder’s cousin. The happy girl chattered incessantly about subjects of cosmic importance: Would Charli...e Moon remember his solemn promise to provide her with a horse to ride? Was Aunt Daisy sure that Charlie liked rhubarb pie? Maybe she should have baked apple pies instead. Or one peach and one apple. She hoped he wouldn’t be working all the time, so maybe they could go horseback riding together. Was Charlie’s big lake really full of pretty-colored fish? (Here, Gorman—who had caught several fine trout in said body of water—assured her that a man could walk across Lake Jesse on the back of five-pound rainbows and cutthroats.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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