Marge was still asleep and so were the newlyweds. Monica had made him fresh coffee and was frying eggs, baking biscuits, and making gravy with chopped ham in it. Who was driving in? He rose and looked out the window. The driver, by himself on the seat, had pulled around behind the house to use the back door. Chet answered his knock. “Morning, Mr. Byrnes. My name is Hailey Rasmussen and I’d like a word with you.” He was about five-eight with white whiskers and blue eyes and looked the part of a horseman as well as a stockman. “Come inside. It’s cold out there.” “Aw, I’ve got on my working clothes. I can’t go in your nice house.” “Hailey, this is a working ranch, too. Monica is making breakfast and you can sure have some.” The man stepped inside. He took off his canvas coat and hung it on the wall along with his red wool scarf and weather-beaten, once-gray Stetson. “Have a seat, Hailey. This is Monica, my wonderful cook.” “Howdy Mrs. Byrnes,” Hailey said, ready to take a seat.
What do You think about Blood On The Verde River (2013)?
