Winter in the Blood
Page 16
I shifted my weight to my bad leg. It was like standing on a tree stump.
“Not the best mother in the world …”
Teresa moaned louder.
“… but a good mother, notwithstanding …”
I would have to go to the agency and see the doctor. I knew that he would try to send me down to Great Falls to have it operated on. But I couldn’t do it. I’d tell him that. I would end up in bed for a year. By that time the girl who had stolen my gun and electric razor would have forgotten me.
Teresa fell to her knees.
“… who could take it and dish it out …”
Next time I’d do it right. Buy her a couple of crèmes de menthe, maybe offer to marry her on the spot.
“… who never gave anybody any crap …”
The red horse down in the corral whinnied. He probably missed old Bird.
I threw the pouch into the grave.
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