Ok, I've been thinking about something lately... a writing group. I want to start a writing group. I can put a poster up for one at church, so I hope that gets some interest.

I've got another story bit to share! It's from a Bonanza fanfic I just started. Hope you like it!

The bucking horse spun in tight circles, trying to dislodge its rider. Shouts of encouragement from the corral fence were lost in the thumping of hooves before reaching the ears of the rider.

As the ornery chestnut stopped its spinning and headed for the fence, trying now to scrape off the irritation, the rider held on with all his might. This went on for only a few moments before the horse slowed to a halt in the middle of the corral. The rider sighed with relief, a smile beginning to curl the edges of his mouth, and loosened his hold on the rope.

Suddenly, as the first hand was about to take hold of the halter, the horse bolted forward, pitching the rider over its shoulder. But the horse stumbled and fell, just missing the man with the bulk of his body, but slamming his thick neck and head into the rolling man’s chest. When the horse was finally to his feet again, the hands gazed in disbelief at the body being slowly encircled by a cloud of dust.

At that moment, several men ran to him, afraid to move him, lest they hurt him further. While one man returned the horse to its holding pen, a larger, older man shouted for someone to ride to town for the doctor.

The hands gathered around the fallen man, each thinking out loud.

“Is he breathing?” one of the hands asked.

“I…don’ know,” a young Texan answered.

“He ain’t bleedin’.”

“He wa’n’t throwed that hard!” An older hand scoffed, though the other men stared at him for the tasteless comment.

The older man stepped close to the body and motioned for a few of the hands to help him haul the man to a buckboard nearby. “Let’s get him to the house!” he commanded in his rough, baritone voice. “Hoss, ride into town and get Doc Martin!”

Hoss grabbed Chubb’s reins and was on his way at once; Joe leaped to his father’s side to help him lift the injured man. Once they had placed the man carefully onto the buckboard, Joe hopped on the back to keep the body from shifting too much.

As the buckboard pulled away, the chestnut seemed to snicker proudly at his handiwork; it was the fifth rider he’d thrown that week, and this one had departed, by far, in the worst condition.