The trees were just beginning to slip on their gold and red autumn sheen as Jonathan Albers loaded the wagon for a picnic lunch, but he…
Western stories for your wandering heart
Hugh Wesley - Writer Posts
“Get in here and help me wash the dishes.” Martha’s voice was a dagger, but Fred’s remote control was an even more powerful weapon. He…
“Everyone knows you did it, Clarence. You can’t deny it!” Luke Appleby was hopping mad. “I can, and I do!” Clarence Hopkins folded his arms…
Johnny Shoals swallowed a spoonful of ice cream and kept his eyes straight ahead. He had too much invested to tip his hand now. Behind…
“I heard he ran off with an Apache squaw. Livin’ with the indians up in Purple Rock.” Jack Smithers poked at the campfire. “Nah ……
Ordinarily, this type of situation would have been handled with a couple rounds of fisticuffs behind the saloon. But this was no everyday skirmish among…
Dot Wilson caught the toe of her shoe on a rock just as she was about to climb into the family wagon. Her shoulder bag…
Every night at half-past 11, old Hoss Jacobs drained the last drop from his canteen, gazed out at the open range in front of Grayback…
Graverobbers were the lowest of the low, a scourge on God’s green earth. And now look what they had wrought! Deputy Randall Kroft shook his…
The whole of Bart’s life had been spent preparing for this moment. As the dust swirled around his boots and spat in his eyes, his…