Western Stories

My trail led out of wilderness, a goat path headed down.  For years somehow I'd stood the test of mining desperate ground.  Now with rifle cradled like a child and pistols here and there. With eyes this world had not beguiled, that had a look that said: "Fair's fair."  I was halfway down Wolf Mountain when several shots cut loose. I reigned my horse still, spun him round, gave him both my boots.  He scrambled to the trail...

Fastest gun in the west MF Burbuaugh short story My name is Brentwater, William Brentwater. I have spent most of my life defending myself because of my size. Most people think because I am small I am some pansy. Far to many just called me Wee Willy behind my back and snicker. From sunup to sundown I spend every waking moment making my peacemakers sing deaths song. A few thought they could take me, they found out they were...

The old man sat up watching the fire, the family, the horses, the stars…if there were nothing to watch he would still be awake. That’s what old men do – stay awake. “Where are you going?” His grandson stopped and pointed into the darkness with his lips. “To steal the Colonel’s horse.” said the boy, with humor in his eyes. The old man blinked slowly. When he opened his eyes his grandson was gone. In the soldier's garden, t...

The first time I met her, I followed a herd of adults out into a green pasture. I ignored their dull talking. We were introduced, and her twenty-some-year-old daughter was there. Omni was pretty, even though she was old; all of her hair had turned white. She was swollen with her pregnancy. Beholding one of her brown eyes, I remember sensing warm, intelligent, gentleness, and feeling a curiosity about her oblong pupils. I...

This is written as a stand alone story but some of it might be better understood if you read the first two chapters starting with “The Town Drunk.” Dave Meyer and Emmett Wolf had struck it rich with a fabulous gold strike which had raised their station in this town of Dead Cat from nonentities to ones of prominence, even to highly respected citizens. But, to be truthful, neither of them were very respectable. They still d...

I've tried to write this as a stand alone story but might be better understood if you first read “The Town Drunk” which can be found on my page. David Meyer and his partner, Emmett Wolf, had become wealthy men when they had partnered on a gold mine. Almost overnight, they had been changed from whiskey swilling virtual nonentities to whiskey swilling respected, even influential, citizens of the town. The habits that they h...