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The Prodigal Son By Lana Coombe
Intense, blue eyes focused intently on the large winged bird circling languidly above in the clear azure sky. One eye squinted closed, in contemplation, before the man lowered his gaze from the glare of the sun. Tilting his wide brimmed brown hat, further over his face, Kid Curry urged his horse forward to catch up with his partner Hannibal Heyes.
Heyes rode, chin on his chest, head bobbing with the motion of his horse.
“D’ya reckon the next town’s much further, Heyes? Don’t fancy another night sleepin’ out. It gets pretty chilly... | |
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