The Silver Pen
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🐦⬛ The Haunting of Black Hollow Ranch
The three of them had been hired to watch the cattle on the lower range for Mr. Dugan. Right in the middle of the land sat the old ranch house. The family had long since left, but the stories stuck around like burrs on a mule’s tail.
When the Trees Listen: A Bloom & Bough Snippet
The little girl giggled and patted Needle’s trunk. “I think the tree heard me.”
The Midnight Wrangler
Annie Jo squinted ahead. The rustlers hadn't seen them yet, by God's grace. This was the second theft in as many months. She had thought the extra precautions would stop it. Anger, sharp and bitter, rose in her throat as she watched her cattle driven further into the narrow pass.
Letters from the Prairie
It is with reverence and a hush of winter stillness that I present to you this series of letters from Mrs. Marian Tate—a young widow dwelling alone in the Kansas Territory during that first long, uncertain season of 1855.
Letters from Sagebrush Ridge
To break the silence, and perhaps her own growing loneliness, Marian had started writing letters to her sister back east. In those missives, Hank became a shadowy presence, “the injured man,” “the quiet stranger.”
Fairy Roads and Forgotten Paths: When Victorian Travelers Feared the Otherworld
Pioneers spoke of wandering lights—will-o’-the-wisps—that danced across the plains. Some called them swamp gas, others fairy fires, but the effect was the same: men and women followed them, entranced, until they were thoroughly lost.