TALMADGE FARM
“And what exactly is it you’re sorry for? That my daddy can barely stand up straight from a lifetime of leaning over those stupid stalks?”
His blood, sweat, and tears had made those fields what they were today. Sure, the cabin wasn’t much. Sure, Mr. Talmadge was a son-of-a-bitch. But this was his home.
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“All we’ve got left is each other, Claire. I know I’ve made mistakes. Terrible mistakes. But I love you, and I’m going to spend every breath in my body trying to make it up to you.”
Dove hunting is religion in the South. Hard to know who feels more ecstasy – the men or the retrievers straining on their leashes.