Claire looked away toward the pasture. “Depends what you call sleep.”
Ruth Ann followed her gaze to the horse lot. Daisy, the old bay mare Ben had loved, flicked her tail at flies near the barn.
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Claire looked away toward the pasture. “Depends what you call sleep.”
Ruth Ann followed her gaze to the horse lot. Daisy, the old bay mare Ben had loved, flicked her tail at flies near the barn.
The moment my neighbor looked me in the eye and said, “You still have plenty of yard,” I realized this was no longer about…