The Wyoming Cowboy. Rebecca Winters
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Before hanging up, Carson said, “I’ll rustle up as many of the hands as I can and we’ll be there shortly.”
This would happen today, of all days. The hell of it was, with his disease, he didn’t dare help fight the fire. Smoke was his enemy. All he could do was bring help and wear his oxygen apparatus.
Johnny looked at him. “Do you think I can take another ride on Goldie after dinner? I want to turn her in different directions and do stuff with her.”
“I suppose that’s up to your mother.” Carson’s gaze flicked to Tracy. “Did you hear that, Mom? What do you say?”
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