The scent of rose water drifted through the screen door. Glory, at fourteen the youngest of the Wilson clan, hovered, sheltered behind the wire mesh. The preacher straightened like a dog on point, staring at the girl.
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The King of the River
Source by Sarah Goldsmith The sun was already creeping high in the sky, its rays dancing on the rippling river. The golden wheat in the field beyond the…… Read more “The King of the River”