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The Texas sun was falling low, turning the horizon into a canvas of gold and rust, when George Strait sat quietly on the porch of his ranch house. His hat rested on his knee, his boots coated in dust from the day’s ride. Beside him, his wife Norma laughed softly at a story only they knew, her hand brushing his as naturally as the wind through the mesquite trees.

A Cowboy’s Truth: George Strait’s Quiet Life Beyond the Stage The Texas sun was sinking…

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