How do you survive being shot and left for dead in the Chihuahuan Desert? By being found by a beautiful wildlife photographer willing to risk her life to save yours.
A bitter ex-cop fights for his life after he runs to the sound of gunfire on the Ri...
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Gust lived in the house his grandfather built, about halfway between Alpine and Marfa, tucked a quarter mile back in the hills beyond Bar W's high arched, limestone entrance on Highway 90. Gilbert Watson inherited the house he grew up in from his father, William.
Gilbert and his wife Norah raised twin sons, Henry and Augustus—Hank and Gust—in the fortress-like estate built of native limestone.
Hank and Bobby drove to Gust's house, walking in unannounced. Hank had his own key.
Gust sat in a wear-worn green leather chair in the den, facing a cold, cavernous fireplace with a hand-carved cedar mantle, an enormous elk head mounted above.
Gust appeared catatonic, staring into the fireplace in the darkened room as if watching flames that once were there. The room was stale. There'd been no fresh air in it for too long.
Bobby began opening wooden shades, one window at a time, as Hank shook his brother's shoulder. "Gust!" Hank squatted, peering into his brother's blank face. "Gust!"
Gust's gaze slowly moved from the fireplace to Hank. An eerily mechanical move. His expression was dull.
"Enriqueta! Where are you!" Hank stood. "Come with me, Gust." Hank grabbed his twin by the arm, gesturing to Bobby. "I want you to come with me."
Hank and Bobby lifted Gust out of his chair, leading him to the front door. Gust didn't resist, his feet shuffling along.
"What are you doing!" Enriqueta appeared in the room, wide-eyed. She was a striking woman with shiny black hair halfway down her back.
Hank stopped, staring at her. "Gust is coming to my house." He glanced at Bobby. "Relatives visiting. They want to see him."
"But Mr. Gust is not allowed to travel."
"Says who?" Hank boomed.
"His doctors."
"Well, he's not traveling. He's going down the road to my house for the night. I'll have him back tomorrow."
"He needs his medicine." She insisted.
"Okay." Hank nodded at her. "Go get it. I'll make sure he takes it."
She gazed at Gust, shaking her head slowly. "I don't know..."
"What's the matter, Enriqueta? You don't think I can take care of my own brother? He'll be fine. Like I said, I'll bring him back tomorrow. You take the night off. Enjoy yourself."
Her brown eyes narrowed. Finally, she nodded slowly. "I'll get his medicine."
As she left the room, Hank whispered, "Don't tip our hand."
She brought a small sack of pill bottles, pointing. "Instructions are on them. He takes two of those at bedtime. Does he need an overnight bag?"
"Wouldn't hurt. Bring it to me in the car, will you?"
