Chapter 25
A gaping, perfectly rectangular hole cast a pall over the beautiful, birds chirping, insect buzzing morning. Beside it lay a blanketed bundle tied with pretty pale blue baler twine. The big ex-military man, kneeling beside it, quaked as he sobbed. Crying veterans stood on either side, hands on John’s shoulder. Mark, the other John, and his dog Mac stood opposite at attention.
The Sinclair Ranch contingent stood off to the side. Santee looked to the marble marker engraved with ‘Duke’ and understood John’s raging grief for his dog. Some people pooh-poohed the loss of an animal, but they’d obviously never had a four-legged family member. The hole they left was as real as any left by a two-legged loved one.
Ruarke tightened his arm around Santee’s shoulders and for a moment, she
