White-Out

Confessions of a DL Cowboy — Prequel Novella — Book 1

WHITEOUT
Coming Soon
Coming Soon

White-Out

Confessions of a DL Cowboy — Prequel Novella — Book 1
Everything he needed was in one duffel. What he found wouldn’t fit.

At eighteen, Scott Danner steps off a Greyhound bus in Cheyenne with forty pounds of everything he owns.

He came for a ranch job, but there’s another reason too. Nobody at the Chesholt Trail Cattle Ranch knows his father or his grandfather. Nobody knows what the Danner name is supposed to mean. For once, Scott gets to show up as just Scott and see what he can make of himself.

Wyoming in January makes him earn it fast.

The days begin before daylight, breaking ice and feeding cattle in temperatures that turn leather stiff. The bunkhouse offers little privacy and even less mercy for the newest hand. Scott knows how to work, though. He knows cattle, horses, fence, and weather. People are harder.

Especially Gary Kramer.

Gary is older, built like a man’s man, and he’s almost impossible to read. He doesn’t say much. Scott keeps finding himself watching anyway.

Then winter closes over the ranch.

With snow burying fences, work becoming dangerous, and the world beyond the Chesholt disappearing beneath white, Scott begins to find out what remains when there’s nowhere left to go except forward.

White-Out is the first of six prequel novellas leading to Rodeo Clown, following Scott Danner from eighteen to twenty-five through the ranches, roads, men, and choices that shape the person he will become.

Coming Soon

The first of six prequels leading up to Rodeo Clown.

From the Story

“He couldn’t ride,” I said. Gary looked at me over his coffee. “Wayne could ride fine.” “Wayne sat a horse like a man waiting for a bus.” Gary set his mug down. “You’re wrong.” “I’m not.” . . . “What does Hollywood get wrong?” “About any of it.” Gary ran his thumb along the rim of his mug. “The quiet,” he said. “They get the quiet wrong. In the movies there’s always music, or wind, or horses running. On a real ranch at four in the morning it’s just you and the dark and whatever animal you’re trying to keep alive. Nobody’s watching.” I leaned back, my shoulder pressing into his. “They get the hats wrong too.” Gary’s eyes creased at the corners. “They do get the hats wrong.”