
The summer of 1874 came dry and cruel to the Missouri plains. Dust clung to the cornfields like a curse. The stalks had grown tall…

Some folks say home is where you hang your hat. But in the West, home was something different. It was where someone waited for you…

The wind swept through the town square of Sheridan, Wyoming, carrying dust and the uneasy silence of a crowd that knew it was witnessing something…

The wind carried dust across the narrow street of Red Mesa as Ethan Ward rode slowly into town, the steady rhythm of his horse’s hooves…

The frontier had a way of turning men into ghosts long before they were buried. Out on the far edge of the territory, where the…
After the miscarriage, I erased myself in ways so small no one else would have noticed. I stopped asking Giles where he was going when…

The wind came hard across the dusty plains of Red Valley, carrying the smell of dry grass, sweat, and danger. It was late afternoon in…

In September of 1878, in the Colorado Territory, Cole Brennan rode west toward Silverdale with eight dollars in his pocket, a Colt revolver at his…

September 1878 arrived cold in the Colorado Territory, though the calendar still claimed it was too early for winter to bare its teeth. Cole Brennan…
“Please,” I said, my voice shaking so badly I could barely hear myself. “May I ask him what he means?” The boy’s mother hesitated. She…

