When I got to the marshal’s office yesterday, Gideon wasn’t there. Rowdy wasn’t, either. Only the old yellow dog, Pardner, was around. So I headed out onto the streets of Stone Creek, Arizona, circa 1915, and started tracking the missing hero. I found him at the Horseshoe Saloon, on Main Street, drinking beer. Gideon was only 16 the last time I saw him, and now he’s 26. He’s grown up nicely–boy to hunk.

I love my job.

I’ll be meeting up with Lydia Fairwood, our heroine, this morning. (I might have to do some searching for her, too, but I

Yesterday was my between-books vacation. I painted, working mostly on those visual prayers I mentioned, answered some of my back-log of emails, and just generally rested my fevered little brain.

Today, it’s fire up the old iPod with my Marty Robbins, Johnny Cash and Randy Travis songs–that music always gets me in the mood to write a western. :)–and dive right into “The Bridegroom”, Stone Creek #4, Gideon’s story. (When I REALLY need inspiration, I watch “Legends of the Fall”.) To think when I wrote “The Man from Stone Creek”, I intended it to be a stand-alone. It just goes