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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, 6 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, Catch a Wagon to a Star, and Jock Poems and Reflections for Proper Bostonians, 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 The Grand Royal Stand-off at Darby’s Creek and Other Stories at Pocol Press.

Recent 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

Tim McConnauhgy, the Broken-down Buckeroo

Tom Sheehan

As he felt older than the mountain itself, the one he had to climb each time he came down with a whirlwind express speed, his horse almost on the loose again, a drink at the saloon waiting for just him alone, as though he was its favorite customer. Read the full story HERE>>

Jake and Jobs and Ida

Tom Sheehan

Wellington Jaquith, Jake to one and all, had left the traveling show in the first rain they had seen in more than a month, and noticed his horse was getting a little too jittery for his own good. “He’s so much like me,” he whispered so Jobs, his horse, could hear it, “that when he makes his mind up, I know it before he does.” Read the full story HERE>>

Jiggs at the Fountain, Bringing It All Home

Tom Sheehan

He’d come cross dry and arid country with one canteen of water for his horse and him, Jiggs Foster looking for work, any kind of work, though he was best at pushing herds of cattle on long drives to market points, a scramble now and then with rustlers, hungry Indians and with no one around, shot a cow for a hungry lot of Cherokee hanging by the trail. Read the full story HERE>>

Robbery at the Bank, By Hell, By Jingo

Tom Sheehan

Harold Cotlick, III, chief clerk at the bank, who nobody in all of Portsville ever called Harry or Hal because his high and mighty indignance would leap to the fore. Particular Harold was particular on that matter. Bet your bottom dollar on it. Read the full story HERE>>

Lucky, Trailside Dreamer

Tom Sheehan

Earl “Lucky” Steadman, came off the trail at the first big ranch in Colorado, sure it was the place that he’d been hired to work by the owner in Wilton, right at the bar in the Angry Steer Saloon, both men already touched by the liquor, and it was just past noontime. As it turned out, this was not the hired place but the owner and his daughter hired Lucky on the spot, liking his open views on things, his past experience both as a trail hand and a herd boss moving good sized herds towards markets all over the West, from Texas to Montana in origination. Read the full story HERE>>

Top-Hat out of Jail

Tom Sheehan

He had no other name than that, Top-Hat, from the minute he got his first job punching cows for a huge ranch owner, The BC Bar (TBCB) as it was burned on more than 7000 hides of cattle in a likely number of years. The owner was a graduate of Boston College in 1892, and plum proud of it each time the brand was applied on a new addition to a growing herd, his school sprouting in old New England way back in 1863, in the middle of the Civil War. Read the full story HERE>>

Cargo Saves the Ladies

Tom Sheehan

Cargo Mulligan was the lone lawman on duty in Pleasantville, Montana because the sheriff was visiting his daughter a hundred miles away, having her first baby and a boy would be named after him. He had to be there for the arrival. Read the full story HERE>>

Ozzie’s Place in Reno

Tom Sheehan

Oswald Ozzie O’Rourke fell off his saddle just a mile away from Reno, where the widow, Theresa Grimes, found him near death. She moved that man into her wagon with the help of a passing horseman who rode off into the future and his darkness forever, never seen again, men of the West often on the eternal move to someplace else, a new brand, a saloon never visited, a woman barely known in one stop-over. Read the full story HERE>>

T-Boy in the Saddle

Tom Sheehan

Timothy Boyington, T-Boy to friends and odd acquaintances roaming around their part of Texas, which mainly was the heart of Texas, right near the neatest little town that Texas and Texans acclaimed as ‘Home for the weary’ as it had not had a wake-up call in a month of Sundays and then some, and I mean bugle calls from the odd military some people said was left-over from the tired Confederacy, and gun shots from any kind of Devil you can imagine, being the one and only Paradise Hill (without a summit) in all of Texas itself; gunfighters not allowed. Read the full story HERE>>

Top-Hat, Range Boss

Tom Sheehan

He wore the name, Top-Hat, the way it came to him, after good years in the saddle pushing cows and cowboys, eyes alert for rustlers’ marks on the trail, in the centers of small towns by their inactivity on good days, how they might cluster in a saloon away from the other patrons, plans being cooked-up for sudden thefts, their jargon loaded with key words that came as part of their language, vocal or hand-made, their secrets transmitted often in silence. Read the full story HERE>>

Too Young for Shackles

Tom Sheehan

Todd Thistle felt the cool iron before he knew he was being put in shackles, for some unknown reason, by the sheriff he had known his whole life, all sixteen years of it. Sheriff Len Cardiff had often played cards at his father’s cabin, outside Thurgood, Colorado, and practically for all those years. Read the full story HERE>>

Reno Runs the Ranch

Tom Sheehan

Reno Juarez came up into Texas when he was just 12 years old and got a job as a stable boy at a huge cattle ranch, The GM. He was a fast learner, adept at handling horses, smart enough to observe all the hands on the ranch, how they did things, what short-cuts they knew and who was who in the leadership corps, watching the most serious leaders with measuring eyes. Read the full story HERE>>

Ringo Knox, Starlit Kid (Lucky He Stood, Tall in His Boots)

Tom Sheehan

Archibald Knox’s mother died giving him birth, naming him while talking to a favorite star, and before his father could change his name, but from then on, he called his son Ringo in every instance. That name stuck. Neighbors near them in Cauldron Hill, Colorado never once referred to Archibald, even at happy hours at The Big Rig Saloon, which, beside a bunch of cows, kept the town alive and on for the show. Read the full story HERE>>

Shorty Fights His Own War

Tom Sheehan

He couldn’t remember how many times. since he was a kid, he had heard the comment, “He’s halfway there, and never got all the way,” always spoken as a slur on his standing height of 5’ 4” and no taller in the saddle and no matter the horse. He was sure the ranch boss often picked a big horse for him when one was needed, like a dash to get the mail in Riddlewood, or to deliver a message to the owner’s brother and sister a good forty miles away on the Bismark Trail. Read the full story HERE>>

Dagger Drune, Knife Warrior

Tom Sheehan

From the moment Dagger Drune picked up a knife off the table in the small cabin on the side of Mount Dibble, in Montana, when he was just past three years old, his father guided knife after knife into and out of his hands, made him so apt at handling sharp objects, he became an expert in their use, for any and all purposes, in a closed fist or through the air at a formidable target, for food or to injure an enemy at combat. Read the full story HERE>>

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