The Lon Williams Weird Western Megapack by Lon Williams

The Lon Williams Weird Western Megapack by Lon Williams

Author:Lon Williams [Williams, Lon]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Genre Fiction, Action & Adventure, Westerns, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Short Stories, Historical Fiction, Fantasy, weird, western, Historical, cowboy
ISBN: 9781434442789
Amazon: B00HPILPSG
Publisher: Wildside Press
Published: 2014-01-06T05:00:00+00:00


“Sure you won’t think I’m silly?”

“I could never think that.”

“You’ll think it mighty sentimental,” said Myra, “but I love it.” She moved closer, held his left hand and recited:

As sure as a vine grows ’round a tree,

I will cling to you, and you to me;

Heart to heart will our lives entwine,

My love to your love, and yours to mine.

Winters felt her hands grow firm upon his. Here was something strange and mysterious—a woman’s love and tenderness. In contrast to these peaceful moments with Myra, his life had been stormy and full of peril. She had brought to him his only genuine happiness. She was a finished and perfect gem in a whole wilderness of rough and unsightly stones.

“That was mighty pretty, Myra,” he said at long last.

Myra pressed her head against his shoulder. “It’s nice of you to say so.”

“I reckon I could say more’n that about you,” Lee said with a glad, yet disturbed feeling. “I reckon there never was nobody quite so pretty as you are. Way I figure, you’ve got everything a woman’s supposed to have, but where a woman’s supposed to be good you’re heaps better. Our getting married was for me not just finding something I wanted, but only its beginning. Every day I find new wonders to be proud of. Without my lifting a hand, time weathers concealing things and reveals that my claim is a lode of pure gold.”

“Oh, Lee!”

* * * *

For days thereafter he remembered that evening. On his lonely rides, he dreamed of settling down on a ranch, when he could expect more evenings like that. But he had never come to a good quitting place. Transgressors came on and on, a trickling stream, certainly, but one stained by human blood. How could he find a quitting place, when none was to be found?



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