The Dark Pasture
The gold was buried under the porch. Jack Moran found it on a Thursday, three weeks after he'd moved to Montana. He was fixing the porch steps—three of them rotting through, the kind of repair that costs more than the porch is worth—when his shovel hit something that wasn't rock. It was metal. Hollow. And when he dug it out and pried the rusted lid open with a screwdriver, it was full of...
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