A High, Hard Land
Jeannie tried to keep her gaze trained on Quaid’s face. It was the only way to combat her nervousness. Each time her eyes slid a degree or two to the left or the right of those rugged planes she knew so well, her concentration was destroyed. She had to erase everything from her mind except the face she’d loved since girlhood and get on with what had to be done, and done as well as she possibly could do it.
She stared down at the worn roughed-out suede boots on her feet planted...