”“How much of what?”“Yes,” he agreed, as if she’d made a statement instead of asking a question. When the rancher who owned the boathouse next to theirs said hello, Aunt Cord smiled pleasantly at him and wished him goodeven before turning back to Susan. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Olive Thorin was nobody’s mother. Beaten badly, face swelling into something that looked like a child’s goblin mask, slipping toward a coma, Cort had fought back
It’s beside the point. Two of the bundles contained single five-shot revolvers of a type then called (for no reason I know) “carvers. “You hide it better than my pals, but you’re as nervous as they are, underneath. They were for it, all right—there no longer seemed any doubt of that.
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