When that failed, he reached for his canteen. Perhaps a long drink would help settle his doubt, but his hand grabbed at a bare hip."God damn, son of a...jack ass. Ain't got smarts enough ta hang onta my damn water!" Patrick wiped a dust caked sleeve across his mouth. He turned and stared at the ground he had just covered. "She-it. Could 'a dropped that damn canteen anywheres." For a fact, his stomach tightened, knowing he could have dropped, lost or set his canteen down at any of a hundred. They headed for the man and pretty much had him cornered. Ronald Carter tapped the man on the shoulder and stepped back a foot or two.I felt the tap on my shoulder and turned to face the interruption of my perfectly melancholy afternoon. Juniper stared at the visitors.“Ronald!” I said. “And you, Stacey? What...”“Thought we’d drop by and say hello,” said Ronald. “Oh, and I don’t know if you remember, this is Jane Driscoll, a close friend. Her husband, Darnell, was a tight friend of mine back in. More

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