Minding Mason

Prologue 

Calston, Texas, 1937 

 

 

 

The mid-summer dry heat in Calston, Southwest Texas was no joke. The  

temperatures had been cruising near a hundred for days on end, and already the  

morning sun had a bite to it. It had alternately soaked and dried Reese's shirt so  

often it grew stiff against his skin, and it wasn't even ten by his watch. He eventually  

shed the crusty shirt and continued digging his end of the irrigation ditch. The ditch  

was neither wide nor deep, but the section of ground Reese found himself working  

on was littered with hard rock that slowed him down. 

 

"Getting old, boss?" Solemn enquired loudly from his end of the ditch. "I noticed its  

pretty slow going over your end." He had a cheeky grin and a twinkle in his eye that  

belied his name. Reese eyed him shrewdly, then returned a small grin, that was  

more of a quirk at one corner of his mouth. 

The little Mexican ranch hand hadn't a shred of remorse for giving his boss  

the hard end of the job. Solemn whistled loudly with apparent nonchalance, and  

went back to work, quickly turning the earth over with his spade. That was when  

they both heard it. Three loud, sharp shots in rapid succession coming from the  

barn. Reese stiffened and exchanged a quick look with Solemn. Mason.  

 

Reese threw his shovel aside and checked his holster briefly. His words were  

like bullets coming quickly over his shoulder even as he loped across the field. "Get  

Floyd. Circle in 10 minutes. Send Holmes for the Sheriff." He didn't watch to see if  

Solemn followed his instructions, but made a straight line to the barn where the  

shots had come from. Already his heart was racing so hard he could almost hear his  

blood pumping in his veins. He'd left Mason in the barn to work on the haying  

machines. Mason. All was deathly still as Reese approached the barn cautiously with  

his own gun drawn. It took all his might to steady his hand, and he forced back a  

fearsome worry that his kid brother Mason was on either end of the gun that had  

gone off.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER ONE 

 

 

 

When the smoke clears, and you're the last one standing, I think its pretty