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“Rosie’s Chicken & Biscuits” by Axel Howerton
Zeke had seen all manner of nature’s savagery during a lifetime on the trails—Death and dismemberment, cannibalism, all manner of killing —this was different. These were no bloody wolves, no mountain...
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“No Rest for the Weary” by Sandra Seamans
Colby Stevens stood on the ridge watching for movement in the town below. The only thing tracking along the main street was tumbleweeds and dust kicked up by the wind. With a storm brewing and night...
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“Santa Martina” by Eirik Gumeny
After a difficulty in Santa Fe made it a liability for Calvin Dunlap to show his face there, he shinned it north, not stopping until he reached Santa Martina. More specifically, the Suerte Negra...
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“Rise to the Challenge” by John Laneri
Hours after the fire, people continued to wander the ruins – their thoughts lost in the swirling wisps of smoke drifting from blackened rubble and scattered debris. They were in Texas, circa 1890, and...
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“Soldier’s Disease” by Tom Pitts
Some of the children in town called him Colonel Tom. He was never a Colonel. It was one of the many reasons he avoided town: the looks from the children, the looks from everyone. The only reason he...
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“Stranger on a Black Stallion” by Jared McVay
The black stallion, its head held in regal splendor, danced down the dusty street less than two hours after the sun brought news of the coming day. On his back, a tall man with a tied down colt on his...
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“A Lady’s Pistol” by Chuck Caruso
Nobody said it. Not Briggs or Gillespie. And sure as hell not Mr. McClain, who wasn’t even there having this conversation with them in a small clap-board tavern off the main street. Called the...
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“Up Top The Draw” by Court Merrigan
Jimruck waited on his belly under the junipers at the rim of the draw with two loaded Springfield 1873s and as the posse filed in below he fired nine times. When the dust of the rearing horses swirled...
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“Sixguns and Pitchforks” by Matthew Pizzolato
A passel of kids scattered, several of them darting in front of my horse. The animal pranced, but I got him under control with a firm hand. The crack of a fist on flesh drew my attention to two...
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“Clay Brentwood, Segundo” by Jared McVay
Clay Brentwood rode easy in the saddle as the black stallion stretched its legs across the desert of southern New Mexico, enjoying his freedom from the limited space of the coral. The man he carried...
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