Phoenix Maplewood Cowboys and Angels

It felt like they carried a curse around with them. When the gang had showed up to Amalia’s home, it had started as a promise of new numbers. The place was gone in short time after that. The wild western wanderers had been disbanded again. They weren’t to be worried about, the cowboy knew well enough. It had been Amalia who had occupied his thoughts. She had spoken so highly of the home she’d found. She had seemed to love it and the families that were growing within it.

Everything disappeared eventually, Reno thought as he prowled the maple forest.

Colt had shared some of the man’s thoughts. It seemed he was flourishing as a leader, if that’s what he could be called. Briggs was unpredictable at his very best. He could bring them a good deal of trouble in no time at all. The dusty figure had his concerns, but he knew he had always been quick to judge the rough-edged man. Perhaps it was better to let it ride out.

A rustling of leaves. Reno’s ears perked tall on his head.

Miss Amalia, he spoke with his rough voice, shocked that she had appeared.