I inherited a box of Westerns from my dad last year; books written by Louis L'Amour, Dan Parkinson, Zane Grey, Elmore Kelton, and Luke Short. There's something about the honesty of these independent cowboys, with their codes of honor and their willingness to fight for what's right, that I find appealing in Western fiction. (Plus, the good guys always win!)So, when I was looking for a book to read for my "classic from a place you've lived" for Karen's Back to the Classics Challenge, I chose Sunset Graze by Luke Short because it's set in the western United States, which is where I live, and also because I've never read a Luke Short novel before and wanted to give one a try. This one was published in 1942. It's an action-packed and entertaining read with some great characters. I really enjoyed it. Here are a few excerpts to show you what I mean:
Dave came shakily to his knees, hurriedly shucking the empties out of his gun and slipping in new cartridges from his belt. ... they were out to get him, and it was merely a matter of time. It had begun with a question asked idly at the far edge of the desert, and it had trapped him in a wagon shed on a high-country ranch, and still he did not know the answer to the question of how Tip Macy had died. The irony of it brought a cold anger to his eyes...
Beth hesitated before she said, almost defiantly, "I don't believe you shot at Ed Seegrist." She went out, and Dave put both hands on the timbers and watched her go. Afterward he turned back to his bunk and sat down, and he was smiling. He thought he understood now why Ives wanted to help Beth Hilliard. There was something so feminine and honest in the way she'd said this that Dave felt a contrary and unaccountable liking for her. He'd baited her, half in contempt, and she'd risen to this bait. But there was something so clearheaded and forthright about her that she'd ignored it and spoken the truth, though it favored him.
Ives watched him go, and when he was gone Ives tried to recall what Dave had said that made him believe the plan was possible. He couldn't recall one concrete fact; there was nothing, except a kind of calm, dogged insistence that he could dodge a bunch of angry men under an implacable sheriff to talk with a girl who had every reason in the world to despise him.
Happy Reading!
Similar read:
Those Jensen Boys! by William W. Johnstone
