Old man Norris was sitting there under the big oak tree just like Mr. Franklin said he would be. “Get out there before the afternoon…
Western stories for your wandering heart
Hugh Wesley - Writer Posts
It all started with a commotion in the street early that morning. Jake had rushed out the front door without even thinking. Got caught up…
It was a job Abe could have done by himself twenty years earlier. And in half the time, too. Now, with the cold November wind…
The two holes in Hal Laramie’s ankle were red and angry. They were set wide. Floyd recognized them right away. “So you were out in…
The sun slid behind a row of tile roofs, but those last few rays felt like a branding iron against Pete’s desert-scorched forehead. “God almighty,…
There was no answer. There never was. Pete shook his head and hung up the phone. He still wasn’t sure where it had come from.…
“Who’s in Indiana?” The old man grunted as he stood from a stoop and held out the postcard he had retrieved from the floor. “Thank…
If you’ve spent any time around these parts (this website), then you probably landed on the idea that I enjoy writing western stories. That’s because…
A cool, dry November breeze slapped against the outside of the wooden house as the western sky roiled orange and red. Yet, it wasn’t just…
“Whatcha doing, Mommy?” It was a dark October night, and cold rain pelted the bedroom window. Lisa stood in the doorway, head cocked sideways. Nancy…
