When things gang aft agley.

Storms, stampedes, river crossings, and rustlers ride through the pages of Where the Long Trail Ends—along with the poetry of Robert Burns.

Joaquin Ignacio MacDonald is a Texas cowboy descended from a white plantation owner, black slaves, and a Mexican mother. The only thing he owns from his distant white ancestor is his surname and a stolen book of poetry passed down through the generations. The poetry leads to friendship with a young woman named Elspeth, which costs him his job at a ranch owned by a Scottish syndicate and managed by her father, Duncan Cameron.

Crippled in a horse wreck at his new job, Joaquin turns to cooking, and runs the chuckwagon on a cattle drive up the Chisholm Trail, leading to renewed conflict with Cameron. Thrown together by a bullet wound, the two men tussle over a troublesome past and uncertain future.

The title of the book, Where the Long Trail Ends, comes from a poem by George Rhoades, who, long ago, was one of my college journalism professors. We were reacquainted a few years back when traveling through the world of cowboy poetry, and the Professor kindly allowed me to borrow his words.

There’s a lot that happens in the pages of Where the Long Trail Ends, my newest novel from Speaking Volumes. Much of it is unexpected and surprising, and certainly unusual in a Western novel. I think you’ll enjoy the ride.