Sundown

SUNDOWN

––––––––

JESS T. BRYAN

Table of Contents

Title Page

Sundown - A Classic Western

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter 13

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Also By Jess T. Bryan

About the Author

About the Publisher

Copyright © 2024 by Timothy B. England

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Cover Art by Michael Thomas

Cover design by Outlaws Publishing LLC

Published by Outlaws Publishing LLC

October 2024

10987654321

Chapter One

The gates of Limbo Penitentiary had opened, and stepped out convicted 6-foot-3, half-Irish and half-Spanish gunfighter, and known killer, Johnny Romero. He looked upon the daylight, and the sun was blazing hot. He used his hands to shade the hot sun, feeling the warmth on his skin after years spent in the cold, dark confines of the prison. As he turned from the prison gate, his piercing gaze met the warden's—a handsome man with black hair and piercing blue eyes. The warden's expression was inscrutable, a mix of curiosity and wariness as he observed Johnny's every move.

Well, well, well, the warden said with a sly smile. I must say, I didn't think I'd live to see the day you walked out of here.

Johnny's eyes narrowed as he took in the warden's smug expression. You won't be seeing much of anything for long if you keep that tone, Warden, he growled.

The warden's smile faltered, but he quickly composed himself. Now, now, Johnny, no need for hostility. You're a free man now, and I'm here to see you off.

Johnny spat on the ground and turned away, his eyes scanning the horizon. He could feel the weight of the sun beating down on him, and the taste of freedom was bittersweet. He had spent years behind bars, paying for his sins, but now that he was out, he knew the world would never let him forget his past.

Well, Romero, you wanted it. Now you got it, said the Warden.

Now, look, Warden, I did my time, I served ten years in your rotten prison. I’m out, said Johnny.

Well, see that you don’t come back. Or the next time, I’ll make sure it’ll be your last, said the Warden.

Where’s my gun and horse? Don’t ‘speck me to walk, do you? asked Johnny.

Alright, Romero, you’ll get your gun. As for your horse, well... hope you enjoyed your last week’s meal, said the Warden.

He laughed as the prison guards walked out, stood beside the warden, and tossed Johnny his gun belt. His plain black leather gun belt was dirty. Johnny bent down at the waist to pick it up. He raised it after buckling it back on. He noticed that his gun was missing.

I thought you said, I could have my gun, said Johnny.

Oh, that’s right, here you go. said the warden. 

The prison guard tossed Johnny his pistol, only the barrel was dented and destroyed.

You, double-headed nitwit! shouted Johnny.

Talk like that, will get you ten more years, Romero. I can make it happen. You want that? said the warden.

No, said Johnny.

Johnny Romero emerged from the gates of Limbo Penitentiary, a towering figure with a reputation as dark as the shadows that followed him. His rugged features were etched with the scars of countless battles, and his piercing gaze held the weight of a man who had seen too much. As he stepped into the blinding daylight, the sun beat down upon him, casting a harsh glow on his weathered face. He raised a hand to shield his eyes from the relentless glare, the heat searing through his worn clothing.

The warden's words echoed in his mind, a reminder of the thin line between freedom and captivity. Johnny's hand instinctively went to his side, where his gun should have been. But the dented, useless pistol that had been tossed to him was a cruel joke. He felt a surge of anger and frustration, but he knew better than to show it. The warden and his lackeys were watching, waiting for any excuse to throw him back behind bars.

As the gates of Limbo Penitentiary closed behind him, he knew the warden was right. He wouldn't last long without a functioning gun and a horse. But Johnny was not one to give up easily. He had survived ten years in Limbo Penitentiary, and he wasn't about to let the harsh desert take him down.

****

Johnny started to walk down the gravel road, taking in the breathtaking morning views. Walking he passed the majestic rock outcroppings over on his left. At the same time, passing the mature evergreens on his right. Johnny muttered to himself, I need a horse. Johnny continued to walk until he came upon some grassy meadows surrounded by green timber on the banks of the Bull River.

The iconic Montana landscape is on full display. Dark blue skies, puffs of clouds, the gurgling of the stream, and the faint call of an Osprey are all daily occurrences on the trail. Elk and deer enjoy the abundant grass along the river, and summer evenings can be enjoyed watching the shenanigans on the grassy slopes.

In the distance, Johnny spotted what appeared to be a ranch of some kind. The ranch is also a short distance from Bull Lake, where locals enjoy a plethora of fishing. The quaint town of Stonewall is located a short distance to the south. Gunvale, Montana is approximately 45 minutes from the ranch. Gunvale is the epicenter of Northwest Montana and is the gateway to the Kootenai River and Lake Koocanusa. Leadford, Montana is only 30 minutes from the property and offers some essential supplies. A few short miles north of town, within the foothills of the Crazy Mountains.

Johnny reached the edge of Bull Lake, tossed his empty gun belt aside took a run, and jumped into the lake. He swam and swam till he finally reached the border of the lake. He climbed out of it and walked but a short-range distance soon he came to a ranch. Looking above he saw the name of the ranch. It read: ‘Bull River Ranch’'.

****

Bull River Ranch? Johnny muttered to himself, taking in the sight of the sprawling property. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the landscape. As he approached the main house, he noticed the flickering lights from the windows and the sound of laughter and chatter drifting through the air. It seemed that the ranch was alive with activity.

Johnny, is that you? Lucy Dawson's voice brought Johnny back to reality. He blinked, trying to process the fact that the woman before him was indeed Lucy, the girl he had known years ago. She still had that same captivating smile, and her eyes sparkled with recognition.

Yeah, it’s me, Johnny, he finally managed to say, feeling a rush of emotions. Memories flooded back, and he couldn't believe he was standing in front of her after all these years. It was as if time had stood still, and he was transported back to the days when they were young and carefree, with the whole world at their feet.

She looked at him with a mixture of surprise and disbelief, her eyes widening as she took in his familiar face. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the weight of their shared history hanging heavy in the air. Then, she broke into a smile that lit up her entire face, and he felt a surge of warmth in his chest.

Johnny, I can't believe it's you, she said, her voice filled with emotion. I never thought I'd see you again after all this time.

They stood there, caught in a moment of disbelief and joy, as the years melted away and they were once again the young, hopeful couple they had once been. It was a reunion neither of them had ever dared to hope for, and yet here they were, face to face, ready to pick up where they had left off.

Johnny, what do you think you are doing? Aren't you supposed to be in prison? asked Lucy.

Is that any way to greet your man? asked Johnny.

My man is in town, said Lucy.

I was. I was released. That’s why I’m here to see you, Lucy. Oh, how I missed you, I thought about you a lot. That was what kept me going all these years, said Johnny.

As he approached Lucy to embrace her. No, Johnny, I can’t. I’m engaged, said Lucy, her voice tinged