10/02/2026 17:51

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He breathed deep, inhaling the scent of pine-tar and Depape’s sweat. But he only took off his hat and made her a charming little bow, and the wind died. Will took a step forward. “Now, ye bitch,” Rhea crooned.

And the girl, leave her, too. Shoot, worm. It went down better than whiskey would have done, anyway—dry as a bone, he’d been. They left the horses (and Caprichoso, who had trotted ill-temperedly but nimbly behind them on a tether) tied to some long-dead pumping equ