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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Sidewinder - 1. Chapter 1 The Wake

Another journey begins...

                                                                                                                                                   ***

 

The Wake

 

 

“Come on, Coy, quit your bellyaching, would ya? We should have hightailed it for camp hours ago. The saloon’s empty, 'cepting for us, and the barkeep’s getting riled.”

“Riled? What’s he getting riled for? We ain’t bothering him none.”

“Suspect he’s tired of listening to you all night long. Come on, let’s get on home. Can you stand up by your lonesome?”

“Course I can. I ain’t been talking to him anyways, so why’s he eyeing me like I was a skunk in his kitchen?” Glassy-eyed, he sneered in the bar’s direction, but the barkeep had turned his back to them, and Boone was thankful. Now, if he could just get them out of here without Coy saying or doing something to bring them trouble. Usually smart-thinking and easygoing, even when partaking, grief was messing with the man.

Coy’s attempt to stand was short-lived, causing a frustrated Boone to grab the back of his chair to keep it, and his drunken friend, from pitching backwards. “I need another drink.”

“You ain’t getting one.”

“Says who?”

“The barkeep. He wants us gone.”

“Why? What did we do?”

Boone snorted, his patience at its limit after a long day, and a longer night. His stomach growled to remind him it hadn't been fed since morn. “You’ve been talking up a storm since we got here, and the more you bent your elbow, the louder you got. We’re the last ones in the place, so I reckon he’s had enough. Now get your ass up and stay up. I’ll get your hat.”

“My hat? Where’s my hat?”

“Ended up on the floor behind you when you tried to stand.”

“Hey, what’s making you so ornery? I just lost my fourth brother! Will was the only one I had left… or did you forget that?”

Boone groaned and muttered, “No chance I could.”

“Huh?”

I said, “No, Coy, I didn’t forget. How in blazes could anyone forget with you yammering all night?”

“Yammering?” Coy asked, slurring the word badly, but sounding hurt.

Struggling, Boone kept his cool. He really cared for his friend, and felt terrible bad for his pain, but he had his limits. “Sorry, but I’m plumb wore out. I know it’s tough to lose kin, especially your last one, but you knew it was bound to happen when Will shot those good men—our friends—in the back. He’d been living on borrowed time since he let loose that mean streak of his.”

“But he was my brother!” Coy wailed.

“Yes, he was… bad to the bone as he was, he was your brother, and I’m sorry for that.”

Coy looked at him with eyes that were fast becoming slits. “No… no… no you’re not. You hated him. Everybody hated him. He never got a break, no matter how hard he tried.”

“Tried?” Boone asked with a scoff. “We make our own damn breaks, and you know that as well as I do. Will never thought he needed to earn anything. How do you think your ma would have felt if she’d lived to see the last couple of years? Come on, I’ll help you up.”

“I don’t need your help, and… and you shouldn’t talk about the dead that way.”

“Hang it all, Coy, what do you expect from me? You know what? You’re right. I kept my mouth shut out of concern for you, but I did hate that mean son-of-a-snake. The longer he lived, the more chance he was going to get you killed, and you know what else? He wouldn’t have given a good goddamn if that happened. Will only ever cared about hisself, and you’re lucky it was him that died and not you.”

“Don’t… just don’t. That’s not—”

“Are you saying I’m wrong?”

“Yes… no… no you’re not wrong… but why are you doing this?”

“Cause I worry for you, and you damn well know I do. You been beating yourself up all damn day, and it's time to stop. You were a better brother than the man deserved.”

Coy's eyes had widened as he listened to Boone. “I know you worry for me... I do... but... it ain’t right nobody cares he was shot dead in the street.”

“Your ma used to say we reap what we sow… and Will sowed hurt wherever he went. You care, Coy, and that’s more than he should have expected… and you got him buried proper.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did, and he’s planted on a fine piece of land with a nice view of the river.”

“He deserved that at least. He never liked you either, you know.”

“I know.”

“Didn’t like us being friends.”

“I know.”

“Said you was bad for me.”

“Know that too.”

“Said you kept me from making something of myself.”

“Yep. Told me the same thing.”

“He… he wasn’t right about that, Boone, not at all.”

“I know… he was jealous you listened to me over him. I got under his skin and if I wasn’t as careful as I was, I’d likely be long buried.” Boone had been watching his own back for years, never trusting Will wouldn’t try to kill him one day.

“You stuck with me… kept me from—”

“Time to leave, gentlemen. Saloon’s closed, and it’s the last time I’m telling you,” the burly barkeep called over to them.

“Another whiskey!” Coy demanded.

The barkeep looked from one man to the other before glaring at Boone. “Get your friend out of here before the sheriff does his rounds. He should be moseying by anytime now, and you won’t hear him until you see him. He’s got strict rules about keeping the town quiet at night, and anyone drunk in here or on the streets gets to sleep it off in jail—he don’t make no exceptions and he don’t put up with no mouth.”

“Hey, I ain’t drunk!”

“Shut up, Coy! You know he’s right about Sheriff Willard. The man runs a tight town, and I don’t want to spend no night in jail.”

“He never liked Will either, not one bit.”

Boone listened to his friend sputter something unintelligible before slowly slumping over the table. “Aw, hell, I knew you were going to do this. Mister, you got any rooms?”

Coy’s head rose up. “I’m awake, Boone. Don’t get riled… just resting is all.”

“Heard that a time or two,” the big man said as he rolled his eyes at Boone. “One room left if you want it. Two dollars, cash up front, and you got to be out two hours after sunup.”

“We’ll take it. Can you help me get him upstairs?”

“I reckon I could, but it’ll cost you another dollar.”

Boone shook his head in annoyance, but held his tongue.

“Hey, why ain’t we going back to camp? We don’t need to waste money on no room.” Coy sat up again, but he was far from erect. “I can walk.”

“All the way to the livery to get the horses, and then ride for an hour?”

“Sure can,” Coy answered unconvincingly.

“Stand up then.”

The lanky man did, but soon toppled over the next table and slowly slid to the floor. Blue eyes looked up at Boone through messy black curls, and he spoke with a sheepish, crooked smile. “Guess we’ll be needing that room after all.”

He returned the smile, happy the ordeal of this night would soon be at an end, and thankful once again Coy wasn’t a mean, spittin’ drunk like his brother had been. He helped him up into a chair before walking over to the bar and placing two dollars on the polished top.

The big man looked at it and smirked. “Plan on getting him up there all by yourself?”

“If’n I got to drag him. Not spending the dollar.”

“Suit yourself… but keep the noise down,” he warned. “Room number six… door’s unlocked… here’s the key.”

Boone stowed it in his shirt pocket as he muttered, “Thanks.” Eying the long staircase, he headed back to his now-sleeping friend. “Wake up, Coy.”

“Huh?”

“We got a room. Think we can make it up those stairs?”

Coy’s eyes took some time to focus, and he grinned. “Won’t be the first time you had to carry me.” Standing up on his own, on shaky legs, he began to walk. He lurched to the side but Boone was quick to steady him.

“I got you.”

“You always look after me. Hope the mattress is soft… been a while since we slept in a proper bed.”

Coy seemed to have found a second wind, and Boone was surprised at the speed with which Coy handled the stairs. He kept a tight grip on the man’s gun belt as he followed behind, but Coy did it mostly under his own steam, with a lot of help from the worn but sturdy oak bannister.

The room was hot and stuffy, and Boone opened the window as soon as he locked the door. Coy flopped on the bed and let loose a loud sigh, and then a groan. “Could have used another drink… damn that barkeep… had no care for a man’s loss. Oh, lord, this is better than a foot of moss. I can smell pipe tobacco. Can you smell a pipe?”

Boone drew in a breath through his nose as he threw Coy’s hat on a chair in the corner. “All I smell is dust and whisky, and old chamber pot. Hey, don’t be putting your boots on the bed.”

“Sorry I got skunk-faced. Are you mad at me?” Coy asked as he tried and failed to kick his boots off.

“No need for apologizing. You had good reason to let off some steam.”

Coy sat up and braced himself on his arms, weaving slightly. “So, you’re not angered at me?” His eyes, despite the question, sparkled with humor in that remarkably handsome face, but there was genuine concern there too. Boone had always been weak to his friend’s mixture of charm and sincerity.

“No, I’m not angered, but we should have gone back to our camp instead of spending money on whiskey, and now a room.”

“Sorry, but no one’s going to find our measley bit of gold, Boone. It’s well hidden.”

“Keep your voice down,” Boone whispered fiercely. “And it’s not about that. Our supplies are there for the taking, don’t forget, and Wes and Lee’s chickens have been penned up since last evening. Should have turned them loose this morning.”

“Maybe so, but I gave them a pail of water afore we left… and our supplies are running low anyways. I needed… I had to get away for a spell after the burial... and raise a drink to my brother. I was the one who convinced Will to pan with us in the first place, and now he’s dead… and his tent is still there, back at camp,” he finished sadly.

Boone sighed, removed his hat, and ran his fingers through hair that felt gritty with dust. “I know you’re hurting, Coy, but don’t be feeling guilty about nothing. You didn’t convince Will of anything. He never took panning for gold seriously, and the reason he was at camp was to bide his time and hide out between trips to Lord knows where… and you know damn well he stole Wes and Lee’s gold. It wasn’t a fortune but it was all they had after years of backbreaking work, and they ended up dead for it… shot from behind like they were nothing but animals. So forgive me if I don’t feel the same as you do.”

“There weren’t no proof Will did it, and the sheriff said so when Dan accused him,” Coy insisted stubbornly.

“Tell that to the poor, grieving son who challenged Will out there on that street. He was convinced enough to face a faster draw. Will laughed in Dan’s face after he shot him, and he never once denied it… and we both heard that from the undertaker.”

“Yep, we did, and he said it was a fair fight… excepting Will ended up shot in the back!”

“His own fault for turning away like he did and crowing like a rooster. Any man who does that enjoys killing, and don’t have a lick of respect for nobody. Anyways, it was no different than what Will did to Dan’s father… and Lee.”

“There’s no proof!”

“Yes, there is, Coy… and I have it,” Boone uttered softly.

“What? How… how can you have proof? What are you saying, Boone? What proof you got?”

“If you calm down, I’ll tell you. I’m saying I know where Will’s hiding place is, and I saw him put their gold in there.”

“You saw him hide gold? What does that prove? He could have panned it from the river, and you don’t know what he might have found.”

“Keep your voice down. Come on, Coy. How often did you see him pan? He always complained all the gold was gone years ago, and how the handful of miners left were chasing ghosts… and maybe we don’t want to admit it, but he had a point. The man would go up river every day he was there and sleep off his hangover. I don’t recollect he ever had a pan with him.”

“Not that you saw, but that don’t mean….”

“No, that’s right. Not that I saw.”

“So then, why can’t that gold be his?”

“Because we saw what Will had… he had one nugget, not much bigger than a corn kernel, and a few grains, and he never showed us no more, yet every now and again he had money.”

“From selling his gold, most like.”

“Without bragging first? Not the Will I knew.”

“You’re always judging him,” Coy accused.

“You’re not wrong, but I had good reason. What I’m trying to tell you is what he put in his hiding place was in the tin Wes and Lee used, and there’s a lot of gold in it. You’ve seen it, so you can’t tell me there’s two like that in this world… it has their initials scratched on it. Hell, they were our friends, Coy—they showed us the ropes and never complained about us sharing their territory—and they’ve been working that worn out river for years to get enough money to buy themselves a piece of land, just like we were supposed to be doing.”

“What do you mean, supposed to?” Coy rubbed his face, looking more sober and distressed by the minute.

“I… I don’t know,” he answered, not really sure of his own mind. “I’m not a miner, I know that for sure, and you never liked farming, and I’m tired of dodging trouble because of your brother.”

“But he’s gone now!”

“Yes, and so are our friends, and we still have to watch our back because of all the trouble Will’s caused in the past. Lord knows what he would do when he’d disappear for weeks on end, or who’s going to show up looking for him.”

Coy laid back on the bed. “I don’t understand,” he uttered softly.

“Let’s talk about this tomorrow.” He walked over and began pulling Coy’s boots off, watching the caked-on mud from the grave site crumble and fall to the bare wooden floor. The man’s arm was over his eyes, and Boone saw some wetness slide down one side. “It’ll be all right. I know you loved him… him being your brother and all, but you finally get to be your own man with no worry for another. Get some sleep now… I need some shuteye too.”

“You’re thinking of clearing out on me… am I right?”

“At some point, I got to go my own way. You don’t need me anymore, Coy.”

The arm moved away and he attempted to sit back up as Boone worked on removing the man’s holster. “Sure I need you. You’re the best friend a body could ask for, and I know you’re right about Will. It’s hard to admit my brother lived for trouble, but there’s no denying it. Are you sure he killed Wes and Lee?”

“I didn’t see him do it. Far as I can tell, nobody did because they were up above the falls when it happened, in a perfect place for an ambush, but why else would he have their tin in his hidey hole?” Hanging Coy’s gun on the bedpost, he shook his head to clear the picture of their dead bodies lying in such a pretty spot. “The only reason for someone to shoot those harmless old men would be to rob them, because they never hurt nobody, no how.”

“No, but you don’t know it was for their gold… some people don’t need reasons… not sensible ones, anyways.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing… just saying, there weren’t no good reason, no matter what it was. Where is the gold now?” Coy asked, sitting all the way up this time, braced on his arms again.

Boone wondered at Coy’s words, knowing his friend as he did. What other reason could there be? The man was likely just clutching at straws. “Gold’s still there, up on the north ridge under a big ole tree root,” he answered, barely above a whisper.

“I checked his spot the morning after Dan found the bodies, and it was there. I was trying to figure out how to get it to Dan—without anyone else getting killed—and to be plumb honest, I was thinking turning Will in was the right way to do it, but then the gunfight happened and I was too late. I wish Will had just taken the gold and disappeared. Dan was a damn good man, and he didn’t deserve to die.”

Coy’s eyebrows rose. “You were going to turn Will in?”

“Would have been the right thing to do, but I was torn, and took too long thinking it through… cause I didn’t want to do wrong by you.”

Coy’s response was a somber nod. “Dan… he liked you.”

Boone eyed his friend curiously. “Yep… he did, and I liked him.”

“Did you more than like him?”

“Now why are you asking me that?”

Coy’s gaze darted away. “I have eyes, but I guess it’s no business of mine.”

“No, it ain’t, but the truth is, I didn’t feel about him the way he felt about me, and that weighed heavy on me.”

“Oh.”

“For someone who was full as a tick downstairs, you’re sure doing a lot of talking… time to get some sleep.” He lifted Coy’s feet and swung his body sideways before taking the folded up blanket from the foot of the bed. He reached for the second, yellow stained pillow when Coy grabbed hold of his forearm.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to sleep on the floor.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Give you more room.”

“I don’t want more room. Slide in here.”

Boone tried to pull his arm free but Coy wasn’t letting go. Their eyes locked. “Not a good idea, Coy.”

“Come on, don’t be like that. I don’t want to be on my lonesome tonight. I….” His other hand rose to the back of his neck, exerting pressure that Boone resisted.

“Coy, don’t.”

“Why not?” he asked as his own head moved closer to Boone’s.

“What in blazes are you doing?” Trying to pull away only made the grip on his neck stronger. “Stop!” he hissed through clenched teeth. “Are you forgetting the last time we… did this... because I haven’t? You busted my nose soon as the kiss ended.”

“I… I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have done that.” His grip lessened slightly.

“Yes, you should have. I read the situation wrong, and I shoulda known better.”

“No! No you didn’t. It’s just… I heard Will outside the tent and he always warned me if he caught me….”

“You’re blaming that on Will?” He made a scoffing noise as he thought about that night. “No need to blame him or you… it’s good I finally cottoned on to exactly how you feel… but you could have just pushed me away, or told me you changed your mind.”

“You don’t know how I feel, Boone,” he whispered. “Give me another chance? I think I know what I want and….”

“You think? No.” Boone pulled away gently but forcefully and stood up straight.

“No?”

“It’s what I said and it’s what I mean. You don’t want this and you don’t want me. This is all about being drunk and grieving over your brother… and feeling alone, and maybe… maybe you think you owe me something, but you don’t. Maybe you think it’s a way to get me to keep panning with you, but it isn’t.” He didn’t want to sound bitter, but knew he did.

“It’s not that. I’m drunk but—”

“I’ve known you since we were sixteen, and you’re not like me… and we both know that.”

“I ain’t never had the chance to figure that out, what with Will and my mom always talking about the sin of it, and burning in hell just for the thought.”

“Imagine… Will talking about sin and burning in hell for something… ain’t that a hoot,” he said with more bitterness. “Your ma’s been gone a while, God bless her, and I understand you minding her words, but—even so—you shouldn’t have to figure it out, Coy. It’s something you just know.”

“Well, did you always know?” he challenged.

“For sure? Since I was about sixteen, yep. Not something you can ignore for long.”

“Yet you never told me… till that night I saw you with the red-haired cowboy.”

“And I wouldn’t have then if you hadn’t made such a big fuss over seeing me kiss a man.”

“I only made a fuss because you never told me—and I thought you were gonna run off with him.”

“I was never going to do that, no how. He taught me some stuff I need learning, but he wasn’t right for me. Now stop yammering and go to sleep. I mean it, Coy. Doesn’t do a lick of good to rehash mistakes… or broken noses.” He was never sure what had hurt worse… the physical pain, or what that punch did to his heart at the time. At least his nose had healed straight.

Laying himself down on the floor, he was relieved Coy stayed quiet. It wasn’t long before he heard soft snores coming from the bed above him. It had been the music of his life for most of the last five years, and he was surely going to miss it.

 

 

*

If you're taking a chance on this story, I thank you. I would also like to thank my editor, Timothy M., for his hard work. Please let me know what you think. Can you handle a western-themed story?
Copyright © 2020 Headstall; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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  On 9/7/2021 at 10:28 PM, Dodger said:

I'm not surprised Boone didn't trust Will. He was a thoroughly nasty piece of work who met a fitting end. Shot in the back after shooting the two old men in the back for their gold. They were violent times and I like the way you use the dialogue to remind the reader that incidents such as these were not unusual.

In the story notes you mention you did a lot of research and that's the impression I got from reading the first chapter, even though I'm not familiar with the wild west or American history before the first world war. I enjoy history and often wonder what it would have been like for gay people in earlier times. I imagine it wouldn't have been easy in the period and place where your story is set and I'm glad I wasn't there.

I can see you put a lot of work into this, Gary. I'm glad it's been well-received.   

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Thanks, Dodger. I did put a lot of work into this, and frankly I was surprised at the good reception. I really wrote this story for me. It was something I wanted to do... write an authentic western that explored what it was like for gay men in those times, but I knew westerns weren't a popular genre. Research was rather difficult at times because there are a lot of misconceptions and stereotypical anecdotes to sort through. I think I did end up with a good sense of some of the dialect... that rhythm that seemed to exist in those times. Word choice was something else I had to pay attention to, both in dialogue and narration. It isn't perfect, but that's not from lack of trying. :) 

We don't actually get to meet Will, but he was a character I found I could still sink my teeth into, and his influence is felt throughout the story. There was no shortage of hard men in those times, when isolation from others was often the norm. Coy was lucky he had Boone looking out for him, or he would have most likely succumbed to his brother's bad influence. I agree his end was fitting. I didn't want the cliche gunfight, so I had it happen off screen, and then let the reader learn of it through the dialogue. I think it worked pretty well overall.... 

Thanks for checking this out, buddy. It's a story I ended up being quite proud of. Cheers... Gary.... :hug: 

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  On 4/2/2022 at 10:34 PM, Albert1434 said:

I thought to myself what could I do to surprise Gary soooo I started reading this story once more. Poor Boone all he wants in this world is Coy I hope at some point he could find away to make it happen. Very well written and colored with Gary magic. And good dialogue which must be hard to write cowboy style:yes:

Thanks for this wonder written story:thankyou::worship:

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Thanks, buddy! As you know I just reread this one's sequel, and really happy that I was able to enjoy it as just a reader after some time away. Thanks for your kind words. I might do the same with this one in a day or two... read it completely through as a reader and not the author. :) 

Boone and Coy have been on my mind a lot lately... they made it easy for some Gary magic, I reckon. :P  Thanks and cheers, my dear friend. :hug: 

 

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  On 6/6/2022 at 6:59 PM, astone2292 said:

Very interesting start. Having watched western shows growing up, I always appreciated the hard life in those times. It's not my typical genre, but I'm also easy to sucker. Time for a binge!

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Thanks, Aaron! I understand it is not a popular genre, especially for you younger folk. :)  This story did seem to suck readers in, though, and I hope it does the same for you. I haven't written much of late... actually not since the sequel to this... but I am hoping to get the embers flaring again. If you do binge this, keep me posted when you can. Cheers! Gary. :hug: 

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Full disclosure, westerns is one of my favorite movie genres. Though I haven't really read that many western stories that weren't published on Nifty/Gay Authors. Never really wanted to read about straight cowboys I guess. 

A few years ago, I started researching gay cowboys and learned that the west wasn't as straight as we were led to believe nor as intolerant as they were in the beginning of the 20th century. And that the old west was a pretty diverse place to live.    

Yesterday I watched one of my favorite westerns, the Far Country, with James Stewart and that got me in the mood for a good oater. And since this story has a high number of likes and comments, I thought I'd give it a try. 

There were a few things I didn't like about this chapter. I tend to want more description in my stories and this first chapter was strictly dialogue. The only description was blue eyes, curly dark hair, and a chamber pot. I'd like to have seen what the saloon looked liked and maybe more of what the characters looked like. We don't even get a sense of where/when this story takes place. 

I did find a bunch of things I like about this chapter. The dialogue was good, easy with a sense of familiarity between the two cowboys. Though it would have been nice to know roughly the ages of the "boy" and his "older" friend. We get a  lot of information packed into these paragraphs. We get hints that the two old men were lovers and that might have been why they were shot by Will, more than just for gold. Will was kind of a bastard and might have been up to more bad than we know.  Boone seems to have an interesting backstory that I'm sure will be revealed in future chapters. Coy is young, and if I remember correctly, is about 21 years old and trying to figure things out. 

Not sure where this story is heading but I'm willing to dive in a read the next few chapters. Thank you for giving me my western fix for the day. 

 

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  On 9/30/2022 at 2:57 AM, Jason Rimbaud said:

Full disclosure, westerns is one of my favorite movie genres. Though I haven't really read that many western stories that weren't published on Nifty/Gay Authors. Never really wanted to read about straight cowboys I guess. 

A few years ago, I started researching gay cowboys and learned that the west wasn't as straight as we were led to believe nor as intolerant as they were in the beginning of the 20th century. And that the old west was a pretty diverse place to live.    

Yesterday I watched one of my favorite westerns, the Far Country, with James Stewart and that got me in the mood for a good oater. And since this story has a high number of likes and comments, I thought I'd give it a try. 

There were a few things I didn't like about this chapter. I tend to want more description in my stories and this first chapter was strictly dialogue. The only description was blue eyes, curly dark hair, and a chamber pot. I'd like to have seen what the saloon looked liked and maybe more of what the characters looked like. We don't even get a sense of where/when this story takes place. 

I did find a bunch of things I like about this chapter. The dialogue was good, easy with a sense of familiarity between the two cowboys. Though it would have been nice to know roughly the ages of the "boy" and his "older" friend. We get a  lot of information packed into these paragraphs. We get hints that the two old men were lovers and that might have been why they were shot by Will, more than just for gold. Will was kind of a bastard and might have been up to more bad than we know.  Boone seems to have an interesting backstory that I'm sure will be revealed in future chapters. Coy is young, and if I remember correctly, is about 21 years old and trying to figure things out. 

Not sure where this story is heading but I'm willing to dive in a read the next few chapters. Thank you for giving me my western fix for the day. 

 

Expand  

Hi, Jason! Westerns have always been a favored genre in both movies and television for me too. I've read western stories as a kid, but I kind of grew out of them. My reading was incredibly varied back then, and still is. Happy you decided to check this out.

In this first chapter, it is definitely all about the characters, and yeah there is a lot of information given. Most of my stories are dialogue driven, but I don't ignore descriptions... I try to avoid a lot of narration at one time, unless it's absolutely necessary, and try to show, not tell. I've worked hard on that, and as I said, the purpose of this chapter was to put the reader into the conversation and give them a feel for these guys and their situation... the rest will come. :) If you bear with me and the story, you will get all the information you need, I promise you. I'm not a perfect writer by any means, but I put a lot of thought into how I tell a tale.

You're right that Coy is about twenty one. As Boone says, they've known each other for five years, ever since they were both sixteen, so they are the same age. 

You're right too, about Boone having an interesting backstory, but my reveals can often be slow and measured on purpose. Still, I believe the pace is good, and you will learn a whole lot through dialogue. I hope you stick with it, but if not, I thank you for giving this story a shot. There is a sequel that follows this. This was so popular I had no choice, but I must say it has been a great experience penning the two books.

"The Far Country" was one of my absolute favorites... I confess I watch pretty much every western that comes on TV. I've done a lot of research on the old west too, and you're right about some of the stuff that's recorded. It was eye-opening for sure. 

Thank you so much for your thoughtful comment... it is appreciated. Cheers... Gary....

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  On 2/26/2023 at 3:13 AM, gdaniel said:

OK. So I am officially envious. 103 "reactions" to my 20. But no wonder. Your literary talents far surpass my own. I look forward to following this story.

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Lol, thanks, buddy, but it takes time to hone our craft, something I'm still working on. I've been very fortunate to have had truly amazing support, and I'm still trying to figure out why. :)  I haven't read anything of yours yet, but I'll do my best to get there. This is a story that came out of the blue... seriously... I was in a slump because of the pandemic, with a story halfway written. After many attempts to get moving on it, I finally decided to write something for myself, something fun that I might be passionate about. "Sidewinder" was the result. I won't say it was easy to get past my apathy, but it was definitely satisfying, and I look back on this one with a special fondness. I hope you like it, and I thank you for sharing your thoughts with me. Cheers... Gary.... :hug: 

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Ahh, I started reading something on GA, finally.. look at me go. :D I read this first chapter last night, I really like the language and flow, along with the dialog in your story telling so far. It does feel authentic, although, I'm not all that accustomed to Westerns in general. I definitely want to see Coy a little less drunk.

It is always interesting to mourn someone with seemingly little to no redeeming qualities, who have done bad things. As far as we know now, spiteful, greedy, and maybe even just plain evil. Coy is likely remembering Will some, for when he was little and innocent too, aside from being his last blood relative left. Despite everything, knowing that fact alone may hit harder. I also know that morality was very different and survival wasn't guaranteed without grey area sort of living.

I'm actually shocked *clutching my pearls shocked* that you chose Will as the name for such a terribly motivated character. Usually Wills are the heroes. :P If that was intentional, I salute you, because in numerous fiction I've read that had a named Will, the Character is made of gold.

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  On 4/11/2023 at 6:58 PM, Krista said:

Ahh, I started reading something on GA, finally.. look at me go. :D I read this first chapter last night, I really like the language and flow, along with the dialog in your story telling so far. It does feel authentic, although, I'm not all that accustomed to Westerns in general. I definitely want to see Coy a little less drunk.

It is always interesting to mourn someone with seemingly little to no redeeming qualities, who have done bad things. As far as we know now, spiteful, greedy, and maybe even just plain evil. Coy is likely remembering Will some, for when he was little and innocent too, aside from being his last blood relative left. Despite everything, knowing that fact alone may hit harder. I also know that morality was very different and survival wasn't guaranteed without grey area sort of living.

I'm actually shocked *clutching my pearls shocked* that you chose Will as the name for such a terribly motivated character. Usually Wills are the heroes. :P If that was intentional, I salute you, because in numerous fiction I've read that had a named Will, the Character is made of gold.

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Hey, Krista! I'm honored you chose one of my stories to read. Westerns aren't for everyone, but it was something I wanted to give a shot ever since I wrote "Finding Refuge", a shorty for an anthology. I was raised on westerns, and I am a dedicated horsemen, so it was a perfect diversion during the pandemic. 

It's maybe kind of weird to name a story after a dead character, but if you continue you will see the impact he has, even after death. I agree about Will being a hero type name, and as a matter of fact, there is another character in the sequel of that same name. :)  What can I say... I'm a rebel. :P 

Coy has watched his entire family die over the years, and the worst one was all he had left. You're right... he is Coy's connection to his mom and dad and brothers and uncle and all those better times, so he buries his head in the sand where Will was/is concerned. We meet Coy when he is at his very worst. He has a lot of growing up to do, something necessary for that time period, but he is a truly interesting character... it just takes some time to see it. 

Boone has dreams, and he's had them a long time. As much as he cares for Coy, he is seeing a change is badly needed. I hope you hang in there, Krista. These two books are ones I turn to all the time when I want to escape the world for a little while. Thanks for this... cheers... Gary.... :hug: 

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  On 4/11/2023 at 9:47 PM, Headstall said:

Hey, Krista! I'm honored you chose one of my stories to read. Westerns aren't for everyone, but it was something I wanted to give a shot ever since I wrote "Finding Refuge", a shorty for an anthology. I was raised on westerns, and I am a dedicated horsemen, so it was a perfect diversion during the pandemic. 

 

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Dang'd I had forgotten about "Finding Refuge"!  It's another one of my favorites.  I can't believe I didn't post a comment for this chapter the first time I read it.  :facepalm:

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  On 6/2/2023 at 7:40 AM, raven1 said:

Dang'd I had forgotten about "Finding Refuge"!  It's another one of my favorites.  I can't believe I didn't post a comment for this chapter the first time I read it.  :facepalm:

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I reckon you were too excited at the time. :)  Yeah, "Finding Refuge" got me started on westerns. I remember thinking a western wasn't going to get much attention on a gay site, but readers showed me I was wrong. It did garner some interest, and that helped when I was making the decision to write "Sidewinder", my pandemic escape. :)  This journey was fun and rewarding, and I love that you are reading it again. :hug: 

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  On 6/2/2023 at 7:44 AM, raven1 said:

I remember thinking after I got finished with this first chapter it was going to be a difficult read.  It starts with a dead villain, three good friends dead and an unrequited love going nowhere.  I was very depressed.  Glad I stuck with it though as Boone and Coy are excellent characters.  The both need to get out of town with all the bad feelings.

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Drama up front? I deliberately had the deaths occur offscreen. I was trying to stay away from cliches, and while unsure at the time, I'm happy with the approach I took. Sometimes in life it is time to move on, and you're right that Boone and Coy need to make a change. Boone especially. he's a man who's hurting bad. :hug: 

Here I stand at the start of this wonderful story, could have been in any of the favorite westerns I watch with my grandfather on weekends on a small black and white tv. Boone wants Coy but it seems Coy has made his feelings known with a punch in the nose after Boone tries to kiss him. Boone not wanting more emotional damage, knows he needs to move on... We will have to wait and see where this may lead because there seems to be more too Coy but .....

Edited by Albert1434
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  On 6/2/2023 at 5:47 PM, Dan South said:

The imagery isn’t taking shape in my head yet so I’m not sure if this will go Bonanza, The Virginian, Big Valley, Gunsmoke or Wild, Wild West but it will shaped by television shows I’m sure. 

I can pretty much see that I’m going to have to get heartbroken before I can get happy. Let’s go …

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Possibly............ :X  

As far as the imagery, it's a slow build in some ways. There are a lot of details to come. Oh, and I loved "Big Valley". Heath! So happy you are taking this on, Dan. :D  :hug: 

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  On 6/2/2023 at 6:31 PM, Albert1434 said:

Here I stand at the start of this wonderful story, could have been in any of the favorite westerns I watch with my grandfather on weekends on a small black and white tv. Boone wants Coy but it seems Coy has made his feelings known with a punch in the nose after Boone tries to kiss him. Boone not wanting more emotional damage, knows he needs to move on... We will have to wait and see where this may lead because there seems to be more too Coy but .....

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Woot! Welcome back, Albert! I was addicted to westerns, always dreaming of owning my own horse one day. It came true when I was nineteen, a yearling (supposed to have been a two year old) I had until he died at the age of thirty. He was an amazing animal, and my best friend. :( 

Boone would have left long ago, after that punch, if he didn't feel responsible for protecting Coy. He did that, and now it is his turn to at least try to be happy. Thanks, my friend. :hug: 

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