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Back Come Again No More Save as PDF
Chapters (55)
  1. Cover
  2. Back Cover
  3. Title Page
  4. Contents
  5. PART I 
  6. 1.
  7. 2.
  8. 3.
  9. 4.
  10. 5.
  11. 6.
  12. 7.
  13. 8.
  14. 9.
  15. 10.
  16. 11.
  17. 12.
  18. PART II 
  19. 13.
  20. 14.
  21. 15.
  22. 16.
  23. 17.
  24. 18.
  25. 19.
  26. 20.
  27. 21.
  28. 22.
  29. 23.
  30. 24.
  31. 25.
  32. 26.
  33. 27.
  34. 28.
  35. 29.
  36. 30.
  37. PART III 
  38. 31.
  39. 32.
  40. 33.
  41. 34.
  42. 35.
  43. 36.
  44. 37.
  45. 38.
  46. 39.
  47. PART IV 
  48. 40.
  49. 41.
  50. 42.
  51. 43.
  52. 44.
  53. 45.
  54. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  55. Touchstone Reading Group Guide

She had received two letters from him, both care of Juanita at the 8T8. The first was sent from Riverton, the second from Goose Egg, a wide spot in the road ten miles southwest of Casper, about three hours from Sheridan by automobile. Jake was now breaking horses for a rancher in Goose Egg. He figured this job might last a good long while. If the first letter seemed angry, in the second Jake seemed resigned to the situation. He talked of getting up to Sheridan to visit the boy sometime, but he didn’t seem at all certain when that would be, he was so busy with the horses.

She felt sorry for him, but she felt no urge to go back. She had lots of time to spend with Red and she was making her own way. The only thing that was lacking in her life was a little adventure. She was not quite thirty years old and her days were a little too quiet. Wyoming could be an adventurous place, but not for lady librarians. She had helped out for a few days during spring roundup on the 8T8, riding and roping and even branding calves with Juanita in the heat and noise and swirling dust. Ezra said she was a natural with horses, just like Ben. It was in the blood. Other than weekends at the ranch or the occasional roundup, however, she didn’t have much chance to ride. Her days were all routine, getting Red off to school in the morning, walking to the library, chatting with the regulars who came in, trying to persuade them that they should read the short stories of Anton Chekhov.

Sometimes when things were quiet in the library, she would fall into a daydream and imagine that she was like Velma and her sisters. They had all ridden on long cattle drives with Eli every spring, heading thousands of cattle from Nebraska up to the Sioux reservation at Pine Ridge. She was too sensible to believe that she would ever take part in any such adventure, but that was before the black horse came along.

41.

THERE WAS A TIME WHEN ALL YOU HAD TO DO TO start a fracas in most any roadhouse in Wyoming was to bring up the black. When the weather turned feral and the corn liquor began to flow, that was enough. An old boy cutting up a steak with a clasp knife would wipe the blood off along the seam of his blue jeans and wave the blade under your jaw.