By Bill Brooks
Jim Glass' long-sought peace is shattered while the ex-soldier and ex-Ranger discovers six of his corralled horses lifeless, their throats slit. although he dreads doing so, he will strap on his guns and move attempting to find the culprit—because somebody in a position to one of these foul, inconsiderate killing is in a position to anything.
The dusty city of Domingo has been designated through a couple of blood-crazed brothers and their Texas cohorts with theft, homicide and mayhem on their minds, and that is the place Glass will make his stand—even even though his in simple terms help is an outdated Indian named bushy Legs and an over-the-hill lawman named Trout. simply because a home's the only factor a man's acquired that is worthy fighting—and dying—for.
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Extra resources for The Horses: The Journey of Jim Glass
Sample text
But quickly enough they buried the old lady and the physician in separate graves, hard work as it was to dig two and not one, Ardell doing most of the digging with a pick and shovel while Cicero sat atop a pile of freshly dug earth smoking cigarettes and contemplating futures that he willed into existence. He saw the two of them riding wild, taking whatever they needed from the weak, drinking and fucking whores, and nobody to tell them what to do anymore. If it lasted a week, fine by him. If it lasted a hundred years, better still.
Trout clucked the horse into a trot and rode off toward Domingo. “I never cared much for that man,” Luz said when they sat back down again, Jim watching the shrinking shape of the lawman as he went trotting up the road toward town. “Trout’s all right,” he said. ” She put her hand on his knee and let it rest there. It was a comforting thing to have it there. ” she said. ” “I hate that this has happened. ” “Still . ” They sat there for a while longer in the cooling air now that the bank of clouds had partially blocked the heat of the sun.
Cicero drew rein and looked at the half-wit. Then he looked off toward the house. The Horses 43 It was just a small house that had a porch on the front, a corral, a shed, and an outhouse, some fencing. Not far off he could see the arch of a river cutting through the hills and beyond the house a ridge, but that was all. ” The half-wit shook his head violently. He didn’t want to say what he knew about that place—how the horses had talked and talked and talked to him, had called him. “Well, we should ride down there and see what the score is.