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They Mocked the Widow for Farming Beneath Red Canyon’s Shadow—Then the Worst Drought in Memory Killed the Valley’s Grass, Orchards, and Wells While Nora Prescott’s Grapes Stayed Green Against the Cliff, Forcing the Men Who Called Her Land a Grave to Ask How She Had Done It
Nora pulled another vine upright and tied it loosely enough that the stem could thicken without being strangled. The merchant from Rawlins stepped deeper into...
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