The Desert Born (The Fast Gun Series Book 2)

A Fast Gun Rides Into Trouble

Matt Walker isn’t looking for a fight when he rides into the town of Joshua—he’s just survived a deadly encounter in the desert. But in a land where greed runs deep and justice is scarce, staying out of trouble isn’t an option. When outlaw Roscoe Bowen sets his sights on the gold-rich Double O ranch, backed by hired guns and no regard for the law, Matt finds himself drawn into a brutal range war.

Trained by the Apache and hardened by life as a scout, miner, and cowboy, Matt is more than just fast with a gun—he’s smart, relentless, and impossible to scare. And when he crosses paths with Dixie Hicks, the strong-willed daughter of the ranch owner, he finds a reason to stay and fight.

The Desert Born is a gritty tale of frontier justice, hard choices, and the kind of man the desert shapes—unyielding, deadly, and honorable. Book two in The Fast Gun Series.

Available now in paperback and ebook—discover The Desert Born and ride with Matt Walker into the heart of the wild west.

Excerpt from the book

He rode out of the desert, tired, dusty, and wounded. His name was Matt Walker, and for the last ten miles he had been in a running fight with a large band of Apaches. They had found his tracks at a hidden water seep and had followed him. Wherever Matt traveled, he never left many traces of his passing, but these were Apaches, and they could track a lizard over a dry rock. He had seen them before they found him and had holed up on top of a large butte until they had passed. He knew it wouldn’t be long before they backtracked to find his trail again, so he had taken off on the shortest route out of the desert. They had found him after five miles, and for the next ten miles it had been a running fight.

He rode fast until he came to a small knoll and then swung down from his saddle with his rifle in his hands. Kneeling down behind the knoll, he held his aim on the lead Apache for a second and then squeezed off his shot. The range was two hundred yards, but he was an expert marksman, and the Apache was thrown off his horse. By that time, he had triggered another two shots and two more braves were hit. The Apaches swerved to ride around in a wide arc, and he immediately swung into his saddle and rode off at a canter. They came up on him again after another two miles, and this time there was no cover for him. He stood behind his horse with the rifle over his saddle and killed one more and wounded another before the Apaches swerved away again. The running fight continued until he was near the edge of the desert, and then the Apaches gave up and turned around. They had lost three men and had four wounded braves, and they figured their medicine was bad.

Matt had suffered a deep cut on his left arm from an Apache bullet, but he had tied it tight with his bandana and continued to shoot. He came out of the desert and rode to a small spring he knew about, hidden behind a grove of hardwood and mesquite near a small hill. He watered his horse while he cleaned the wound on his arm. He made a poultice out of some medicinal leaves that he always carried with him and packed the wound before bandaging it with a clean strip of cloth from his saddlebags. Then he drank from the spring and filled his canteen before lighting a small fire to make some coffee.