Larry Carr

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She said, Hush. He lay on his back, his hand over hers, the other hand stiffening. Suddenly he had a bile-sharp foretaste of disaster. Why was that old man shooting holes in the government tank on the mountain? You sure have got cold feet, she said. He stared up at the dark ceiling. I’ll be damned if I do, he whispered to himself.
The Orchard Keeper (Vintage International)
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