Quotes About Buckskin

Navarro lifted a deprecating shoulder and one eyebrow. His eyes had never left the big redhead's carefully moving hands. The Mexican wore buckskin breeches, hand-tooled boots, and one ivory

He was just under three inches tall. His blue-black hair, done in a plait and pressed to his head by a colored headband, gleamed in the sun. So did the minuscule muscles of his tiny naked torso, and the skin of his arms. His legs were covered with buckskin leggings, which had some decoration on them too small to see properly. He wore a kind of bandolier across his chest and his belt seemed to be made of several strands of some shiny white beads. Best of all, somehow, were his moccasins.

one pounding coffeebeans in a buckskin with a rock while the others stared into the fire with eyes as black as gunbores.

Tossing aside her buckskin gloves, she pulled her red handkerchief out of her hip pocket—no lace kerchief tucked up her sleeve for Maizy—and wiped her eyes again, then blew her nose in a completely unladylike way. How had she let herself get this upset? And over a man, of all things.