chaparral

Woodrow Call

Call had him buffaloed,

Give Call a grievance, however silly, and he would save it like money.

The sound drowned out the quiet of sunset, which annoyed Augustus so much that at times he was tempted to go up and shoot the old man, just to teach him a lesson.

Augustus snorted. “You’re in over your head, Pea,” he said. “Who Abe Lincoln freed was a bunch of Africans, no more American than Call here.”

one free Comanche with a horse and a gun it would be foolish to take them lightly.

though his day-to-day responsibilities had constantly shrunk over the last ten years, life did not seem easier. It just seemed smaller and a good deal more dull.

the moment his hip joints hurt, as well as several other joints, all the result of letting a horse fall on him five years before.

the thought of the complications that might arise from an insult to Lorena had left Newt closely acquainted with the mental perils of love long before he had had an opportunity to sample any of its pleasures except the infinite pleasure of contemplation

would blab right up until he shoved his old carrot in, and then would be blabbing again, before it was even dry

seemed to her he had got rid of something other men hadn’t got rid of—some meanness or some need

Silent happened to be how she felt when men were with her.