The bluff that she was talking about was a good hour walk from her home.When we got out of sight of her mother Christine took my hand in hers. Then sh... started telling me about her life. Her mother had started that conversation during diner but Christine had cut her off. She told me about her father dying young and her growing up without a father. She told me about the problems between the Indians and the town people and that she was often treated worse than the blacks or Hispanics were. The. The faint smell of leather filled his nostrils as he looked around the beautifully restored interior. Els changed gears and looked at him, before turning her eyes back to the road. ‘Thanks for this. I appreciate it.’ She chuckled. ‘Thank me when we get the coffee out of your t-shirt.’ Minutes later they pulled into a driveway. The small yellow bricked house featured a stone chimney and lawns were simple, but manicured, hosting a solitary streetlamp. He followed her to the front door as she. More

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