Forever and Always Read Online Free PDF

anyone find out what happened to the stranger who stopped the robbery?” Naomi asked Sibyl.
    â€œI asked everyone I talked to, but nobody saw him leave. With all the confusion, he probably just walked away.”
    â€œThat’s too bad. People have been saying we ought to stop depending on the soldiers at the fort and hire our own sheriff. From the way you said he handled a gun, that man sounds like a perfect candidate for the job.”
    He might appear on the surface to be the perfect candidate thanks to his fine shooting, but even though she’d shared only a moment with the stranger, Sibyl was certain that was something he’d never do.
    * * *
    Logan brought his horse to a stop near his new camp—his permanent camp, he hoped. He’d pitched his tent in the pine forest that lined the Mogollon Rim. The small stream flowing nearby plunged noisily into one of the many brush-and-rock choked canyons that carried water from the Rim to the Verde River below. A series of sun-filled meadows offered forage for his horse while the forest provided all the meat he could eat. After dismounting and stripping his horse of its saddle, he led the animal to the creek to drink. A short distance away, a Hereford cow accompanied by her yearling calf was enjoying the cold, clear water. From her size, Logan expected she’d drop another calf any day now. She was late. All the cows he’d seen already had calves at their sides. He figured they belonged to the people living in the big house he’d seen when he was looking for a suitable place to camp. He’d spent two days observing movement around the ranch before choosing a site he hoped they wouldn’t find before he had time to die.
    He grinned when he saw the dog appear at the edge of the clearing. “If you’ve followed me again, I guess you’re not afraid of me.”
    The dog watched Logan intently.
    â€œIt’s not supper time yet,” Logan said. “You’re going to have to wait.”
    After staking his horse out to graze, Logan started a small fire to make coffee. For years he’d matched his adopted father drink for drink, but he stopped altogether when he decided to leave Chicago. He didn’t want anything to cloud his memory or his appreciation of his last days. He wanted his experience of each moment to be crystal clear, every detail remembered, every minute savored. He’d always known in the back of his head that he would die someday, but he’d assumed he wouldn’t need to face his mortality for decades to come. Learning he had only a few months left had been such a shock it had knocked him out of the pattern of living he’d occupied for most of his life. Nothing would ever be the same again.
    Taking his coffee, he headed toward the Rim. The dog followed. A thick carpet of needles still damp from yesterday’s rain muffled his footsteps. The tangy scent of pine filled the air with a crisp, clean fragrance unlike anything he’d experienced in Chicago. The air under the pines was cool and invigorating. It made him wonder why he’d given up working outside to spend his days in an office. Yet he knew the answer.
    The business. It had always been about the business.
    He’d cared so much about it that he’d let it crowd everything else out of his life. But what good did that do him now? While it was thriving, he was dying. He was a wealthy man who wouldn’t live to spend a tithe of the money he’d worked so hard to acquire.
    He reached the edge of the Rim and looked out over the valley two thousand feet below. The Verde River was a thin ribbon that meandered through the valley, collecting water from various streams and canyons as it went. Cottonwood leaves hung breathless in the still air, waiting for the monsoon rains to reinvigorate the landscape. The white faces and red bodies of fat Herefords were scattered as far as he could see, some in small groups, others singly, still