Poetry & Life

The silence of his exit soured the food. Brenna lay down and stared toward the ceiling, yet past it toward the moment Kees had fired his rifle and shot the grizzly. He didn't see what she did – skill and knowledge earned through hard work, and some God-given sense no one else seemed to have. He wanted her to let go, but like her love for Montana, he'd grown in her, as fixed as the mountains that m...