Wait for Signs: Twelve Longmire Stories
“Still recovering from my experiences chasing after escaped convicts in the Bighorn Mountains, I fingered the oversize ring on my thumb and watched the turquoise wolves chase the coral ones on the silver band; then I plucked it off and stuffed it in my shirt pocket under my badge.
I’d been sheriffing solo since Vic had flown back to Philadelphia for the long Memorial Day weekend to help her mother with the arrangements for Cady and her brother Michael’s upcoming wedding. It was complicated. ...Boy howdy.
Generally, Cady and Vic just shared a cup of coffee in the Denver airport as they traded time zones during their assorted holiday layovers, but on this stint Cady had driven Vic to the airport in Billings. They’d had more time to talk and had engaged in what I’d feared could be a wide-ranging conversation.
Cady sat still. “Vic looks really good.”
I sipped my iced tea and joined Henry in studying Clear Creek’s fast-flowing water as it riffled by the café in a torrent of melt from the Bighorns.MoreLess
I’d been sheriffing solo since Vic had flown back to Philadelphia for the long Memorial Day weekend to help her mother with the arrangements for Cady and her brother Michael’s upcoming wedding. It was complicated. ...Boy howdy.
Generally, Cady and Vic just shared a cup of coffee in the Denver airport as they traded time zones during their assorted holiday layovers, but on this stint Cady had driven Vic to the airport in Billings. They’d had more time to talk and had engaged in what I’d feared could be a wide-ranging conversation.
Cady sat still. “Vic looks really good.”
I sipped my iced tea and joined Henry in studying Clear Creek’s fast-flowing water as it riffled by the café in a torrent of melt from the Bighorns.MoreLess
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