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The difference was a line. A green line. A living line.
Emily whispered, “They’re working.”
Tom did not smile. Not yet.
“Some.”
“Some?” She laughed, almost angry with relief. “Daddy, look at Buck’s side.”
Across the fence, Buck’s cattle were gathered around a dry water trough. Dust rose every time they moved. His pasture had been grazed short through spring,continue reading …
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