Saturday, June 19, 2021

Union Vets and Rebs in the Old Pueblo

 Brannigan nodded appreciatively. “Hard lines for you boys out there in Tennessee and Georgia.” Pausing a moment, he added, “I was on the East Coast, in the Irish Brigade. Quartermaster Department. Did my share of dodging shot and shell and whizzing rifle balls, but can’t claim I did any actual fighting. Never fired a shot in anger or otherwise.”

Cal laughed. “Well, when you get to the Pueblo you may get to fight after all. Still lots of Rebs and Reb sympathizers around town. When I first got there in ‘67, Union vets weren’t real popular. You could get a fight most anytime— and you didn’t have to be whistlin’ ‘Marchin’ Through Georgia’ to get it.”


Saturday, March 27, 2021

Up the Old Road with Prisoner in Tow.


Clouds were rolling up along the Sierra Pelona, like big piles of wet cotton; and a cold wind had picked up, raising swirls of dust along the road where they now rode slowly alongside Amargosa Creek.

At the wooden bridge two large ravens rose suddenly, squawking and flapping their wide wings and sailing up the valley as the small procession clattered over the stream. On the other side a small group was watching silently. Cal looked them over as he rode past. It looked like maybe two sheep herders and three Mexican or Indian vaqueros, sombreros pulled down and ponchos flapping in the wind. None of them looked like a threat, but no one spoke or smiled. They had that familiar We don’t know nothing look on their faces.

Sunday, February 28, 2021

When Irish Eyes Are Smiling

“Goodness,” she said shivering a little and wrapping her arms around herself. “I never knew California had such cold Spring times.”

Cal wanted to reach out and cuddle her up to him, but he resisted the urge and looked over at the kindling and wood already stacked in the fireplace. “How about I light a fire to warm you up?”

“That would be nice,” she said softly.

He walked over, knelt down, and picking a match out of the small brass holder, lit up the kindling. Then he sat back down closer to her on the couch.

She smiled at him, then stood up and turned to the large globed light beside her. “It’s so gloomy in here,” she said, bending forward slightly and lighting the lamp. Then she sat back down, sipped her sherry and said, “The fireplace makes it so cozy.”

“Yep,” he agreed, thinking, I’d like to light a fire inside you, sweetheart.

She drained her glass then set it down carefully. “Did you notice the song I was playing when you rode up? It’s the one called ‘My Home in the West.’”

“Yes,” he said, draining his glass also and setting it beside hers, and thinking that maybe he should just pull her over and kiss her. “‘Home on the Range’, the boys call it. We were all singin’ it the other night over at the Silver Spur. Loud, but not too good.”

“I think it’s very appropriate for our new little home here in the West.”

“Absolutely. And I hope you all decide to stay here permanently.” He picked up her left hand, kissed it and placed it back in her lap, still holding it.

Even in the dim light he could see she was blushing, a gleam of excitement in her eyes

(on Kindle Books)

Thursday, January 21, 2021

Sanchez warns the two deputies


He looked at Cal, a glint of humor in his eyes. “A leetle bird told me that the Beeg Basque ees not happy weeth you two boys.”

“Yeah,” Cal said, sipping his coffee. “I saw him the other night at the Pico House, and he looked over at me plumb hateful-like.”

Laughing, Sanchez said, “You look out for that S.O.B. A couple of those cabrons working for him could plug you two and take off for Yuma or the Border before anybody even knew about it.”

Nodding, Cal said, “Yep, it’s possible. But we’re on the qui vive, and Alexander’s got us kinda layin’ low for a while, switchin’ patrol areas and so forth.”

Bueno. But keep your eyes open, amigos. Maybe he should put you two out in the desert for a while.”

Cal smiled, thinking of blue-eyed, blond-haired Mrs. Rezi Schmidt all alone at the ranch. He decided that it might be a good idea to mention Don Tomas's suggestion to the Sheriff.

(from Bad Men and Angels, available on Kindle now)