Tag: US historical fiction
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Fiction: The Wedding Party
On the train west, Margaret Crenshaw insulted the coachmen and train conductors while fretting over the linens and china purchased and packed with great care for Thankful’s wedding. Fred in his booming arrogance educated his family about Indian tribes and the sinister Chinese—betraying his ignorance of both. Meg stared out the window, chin in hand,…
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Fiction: Choices
“Do you really believe that you had any control over your parents?” “Yes, they depended on me! I went wild when they needed me to be calm. I poisoned a teacher and Mother lost a replacement for Eliza, and then my father took me and I tried to please him but still he did the…
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Fiction: Stealing Salvation
Buck cupped Thankful’s wet cheeks in his hands. “Poor you, you’re as messed up as the rest of us Crenshaws, but I love you for it. Don’t cry, it’s all right. I’m so glad now that I’m here for you.” “Oh, Buck, it means so much to me that you don’t hate me. I’ve been…
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Fiction: Purity
Buck sat tucked back in bed, trying to read his small Bible while swatting gnats. William, with the occasional sideways glance at his roommate, smoked cigarette after crummy cigarette, wondering how things had gone so wrong. How had Thankful ever loved him? And how had he not seen it? Soon the doctor strode in, leading…
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Fiction: Faith
The doctor led Thankful and Buck through the short, cool hallway to the adjacent room reserved for hopeless cases. There lay the lieutenant asleep. “He’s not dead, is he?” Buck asked from the doorway, craning his neck to see. “No, Buck,” the doctor replied and turned to Thankful. “You may want to say your last…
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Fiction: Tangled
“Seems the bit of merriment you boys had got the lieutenant shot,” said the veteran doctor. Buck swung his legs to the side of the bed. “I have to see him.” “No, I’m afraid not, son. Fahy won’t want to see you. He’s upset and angry, poor devil. Says you both stole horses and deserted…
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Fiction: Awakenings
The cool adobe walls reminded William of Old Camp Grant as he awoke on yet another bright day. “Finally awake, Willy?” Buck whispered from the next cot. William lifted his throbbing head and turned to him, his body aching. “Buck? What happened?” “My father’s Scotch landed us into a mess. I’ll have some story when…
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Fiction: A Race and a Rescue
William wasn’t used to such high-quality drink, and it affected him strangely. He pulled out his Bowie knife—passed down from his Uncle Simon’s old things—and started for the mountains where a band of Apache camped. “Bill, what are you playing at?” Fahy asked. “Apache tizwin. I heard it’s good drink. I’m gonna try it.” “How?…
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Fiction: Truth and Lies
“I killed my father—how’s that for starters. It was premeditated—planned over years—and I left him to be eaten by whatever animal wanted him, and he wasn’t quite dead when I left him.” “What?” William was stunned as the others gathered round. “It was the third year of the war, and I took a bounty and…
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Fiction: Unplugged
The missionaries took over the fire. William hung in the shadows, but Buck came to him with a new bottle, unplugged it, and shared it out. William offered Buck a cigar. “No,” Buck said. “Oh, what the hell.” He took it and lit up, staring into the fire. “I guess I’ve lost my job now,”…
Author Adrienne Morris 