Matthew Cole heard the wind screaming across the Wyoming flats and thought it was just another empty sound to fill his empty life. His wife
Harlon Voss knew every bend of the river trail, every stone that could roll a hoof, yet the sight of the woman limping across his
Caleb Brick guided his tired horse down the last slope as the sky turned the color of cold steel. The wind cut through his coat
The tin plate sat between them like a treaty nobody had signed yet. Rabbit stew, simple and hot, steamed while the fire popped. Ayanna stared
The town of Red Crossing smelled like hot iron and old grudges. Sunlight bounced off cracked windows and rotten boards, and the wind carried the
The desert night was never truly quiet. Out beyond the last fence post it held its breath, listening for the first crack of a human
In a remote ranch called La Soledad, lived Doña Refugio Valenzuela, a widow since the age of 29. Her husband, Don Crisóforo, had died four
Welcome to WordPress. This is your first post. Edit or delete it, then start writing!