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Western Short Stories
Tom Sheehan


​Western short stories Bio. of Tom Sheehan

Sheehan (31st Infantry, Korea 1951-52; Boston College 1952-1956) has multiple works in Rosebud, Linnet’s Wings, Serving House Journal, Literally Stories, Copperfield ReviewLiterary OrphansIndiana Voices Journal, Frontier TalesWestern Online, Faith-Hope and Fiction, EastlitRope & Wire Magazine, The Literary Yard, Green Silk Journal, Fiction on the Web, The Path, etc. He has 16 Pushcart nominations, 5 Best of the Net nominations (one winner).

Later book publications include The CowboysBeside the Broken TrailIn the Garden of Long Shadows, Between Mountain and River, and Catch a Wagon to a Star, by Pocol Press, and Jehrico by Danse Macabre. Back Home in Saugus (a collection) is being considered, as is Beneath My Feet This Earth Slips into the Far-side of Another’s Telescope and Pages from Fallen Books. In production status is Jock Poems for Proper Bostonians at Pocol PressRecent releases include  Small Victories for the Soul VII, from Wilderness House Literary Review, and Alone with the Good Graces from Pocol Press. He was Danse Macabre’s 2016 Writer-in-Residence in Las Vegas.

Here's a link to Tom's LinkedIn profile>>


After a long day ridin’, ropin’, and sometimes rustlin’, cowpokes love to stop by a local saloon to wet their whistles. Card playing, loose talking, and fighting always ensued, some in good fun and others deadly serious. In this collection of stories, author Tom Sheehan rides and relaxes with them all. You’re in the right place for rollickingly good western yarns.


Seventeen western short stories by Tom Sheehan.

Here's a link to all of Tom's books on Amazon>>


Western Short Stories by Tom Sheehan


Knot Bretwell, New Deputy

Tom Sheehan

He continued to ride over the crest of the hill, even as he heard the gunfire ahead of him, and that was after he’d not been able to avoid the most prior western music in the air, the pop pop, bang bang a full day’s ride behind him. Knot Bretwell realized he was always riding into trouble no matter which way he turned, which trail looked most promising. Fate might have well sat the saddle with him.

With that image sitting in him, there’d be no turning around. Read the full story HERE>>


The Drifter

Tom Sheehan

Young Doug Bentley, for some reason unknown to him, had kept his eyes on the new hire who called himself Van Tessor, working for his father, George Bentley, for only the second day. Doug let his gaze follow that of the new man as it stretched past the early evening fire on the edge of the herd onto the far horizon hills as they melted into indistinct shadows.  Read the full story HERE>>


Friends and Enemies

Tom Sheehan

When big, burly Jake Henry bumped into Scott Harlow’s mother coming out of the general store and spilled some of her goods without saying excuse me, ma’am, or helping her to pick things up, 12-year old Scott dove at Jake Henry’s knees and knocked him down, and the boy stood straight up from the dust with Jake’s gun in his hand.  Read the full story HERE>>


The Carney Boys

Tom Sheehan

Jefferson and Jacob Carney, Jeff and Jake from here on in, could shoot like Hell, quickly, accurately, deadly is what that means, from the draw to the fall of the target. The way things happen to close brothers, especially to twins, as were the Carneys, assume a remarkable turn of events.  Read the full story HERE>>


Stud Carbon, Free from Jail

Tom Sheehan

After two years in jail for a crime he did not commit, Stud Carbon was freed by a crooked judge who started his own sentence in Yuma Territorial Prison. The judge was also looking for new favors for his comfort, and perhaps his life thereafter behind the bars. Making Good Too Late is a crime in itself, more so if it happens behind bars with all kinds of death on the prowl night and day, angels of death, devils of death, oh, Death itself with lock and key making the rounds of internal and eternal miseries.

But death comes in broadest daylight to the wary as well as the unwary. Read the full story HERE>>


Tracy Kurt Elbert, Bumbler by Birth

Tom Sheehan

TeeKay Elbert started off on the wrong pair of feet right at the beginning, missing his due date by a month, catching his mom and dad on the trail, Shoshones and cattle thieves all around the territory, interaction wide open, with real guns and real bullets. The worldly debut was auspicious if not a marker for the years coming down the trails toward him.  Read the full story HERE>>


Brett Kirkness and the Bandits

Tom Sheehan

At 12, curly blond hair, physically ahead of time across his shoulders and chest, his arms used to work without deep complaints, Brett Kirkness felt ready for the world. He had just buried his parents, killed by a strange gunman because he wanted their only horse.  Read the full story HERE>>


The Conquistadors in New Pants

Tom Sheehan

Deek Garcia was in trouble from the first word spoken on the job, a glob of language leaving no interpretation but that of a one-sided son of a bitch who had more hate in his body than a scowl on dead meat. The speaker would never mention Mexico, or border crossing, or any pithy word that said Deek was poor at his work. The fact is, when guns are drawn, an ally’s an ally, and he damned well ought to be.  Read the full story HERE>>


Al La Cazenza and the Letter to the Lady on a Golden Palomino

Tom Sheehan

Alberto La Cazenza spotted the woman on a horse in one burst of golden light and did not know which creature was most interesting, most golden, most lovely, but that woman was riding that horse by herself, no guide, no entourage, no boyfriend. What was she doing alone in this wild valley of northern Mexico, his home country, but certainly not hers?

He had to meet her...  Read the full story HERE>>


Joshua Jenks, Odds to Evens

Tom Sheehan

The west Texas sun had a special shine to it for the first sight of Marla Jenks’ new-born son whose name, on her mind for much of the nine whole months she toted him around. was always to be Joshua Jenks come unto her in a dream. Texas, daily, was a hard place to dream but she was adamant in holding onto hers. Uppermost in most minds was daily survival, a knock-down, get-up-quick existence from dawn to dusk, and into the serious night far enough to need dreams to feed dreams.  Read the full story HERE>>


Sherman “Shakie” Tucker and Golden Mary

Tom Sheehan

He was born a lefty, nervous as a kitten in a dog pound, passed over too often as a playmate, but loved the guns that were anathema to his hands shaking morning until night. From that auspicious start in Calico Flats, by friend and foe came the nickname “Shakie.”  Read the full story HERE>>


Joey Charlo and the Big Black Bear

Tom Sheehan

When prospector Joey Charlo built his cabin in front of a cave on Colorado’s Flake Mountain area, he was planning to spend a year in the area looking for his dream cache. After checking out the cave as far as he figured he needed, he saw no signs of habitation and figured it was a good spot in case of an emergency;  Read the full story HERE>>


One Way through Glass Pass

Tom Sheehan

The shining off a granite portion of the Rocky Mountains near a Nevada chunk of mountain known as Glass Pass is often spectacular at certain time of the day and certain times of the year. The minerals in its granite base, an igneous rock, make it so, being quartz, feldspar, mica, and a dose of hornblende. It is said such places, worthy of sight here and there, may shine like the sun itself. and attracts many observers. Read the full story HERE>>


The Small War of Kurt Knobson

Tom Sheehan

Some of the other wranglers said Kurt was the most literative of them all, and quite a few of them had no idea of what the word meant, but it stuck on him and began to earn a few side saddle additions, like smart ass on a pony, and the big word spiller or spitter, all the other so-called approaches or reflections not mounting to a heap of spoiled beans. Read the full story HERE>>


Being a Cowtown Santa for a Time

Tom Sheehan

Christmas was coming. Who'd be Santa Claus had suddenly gotten sticky.

There had to be forty or so kids living in the town, all of them in squashed-in rooms in a dozen buildings, the pigeons on the roof often mingling with the kids at tall hide-'n'-seek, romances in dark budding, now and then some contraband or stolen goods getting exposed, two or three gymnasts every generation that managed and used the roof tops for exercises, dares, escapes of one sort or another. Merton Place, from various points of view, was a western city in itself.

And Christmas was coming. It was around the corner.  Read the full story HERE>>


Read more western short stories by Tom Sheehan in the <<Ranch Romance>> and the <<Side Trail>> sections