Excerpt from Once an Outlaw

                                                                   


http://www.amazon.com/Once-An-Outlaw-ebook/dp/B0080Y3578/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1336511907&sr=1-1


“Ma’am, please wait.”
Instead Veronica picked up her pace, causing her load to unbalance with the big suitcase landing on her foot.
“Here now, let me help,” the man insisted trying to pick up her bags, but she pushed his thick hands away noticing the contrast of his lighter skin to her much darker brown. “All right,” he said. “No need to get riled. Perhaps I should have introduced myself. I am Gerald Williams, owner of the Shining star Hotels in Red Water and Fire City.” He reached into his vest pocket and presented her with a white card. “If I can be of assistance…”
“Wynona Moore,” she lied getting a bad impression from the fancy dressed man. “And I am not in trouble-”
“Not yet, but getting involved with outlaws is the worst kind of trouble.”
“Caine is an outlaw?”
“My dear, what white man is so bold as to approach a Negro girl in public, -”
“Who is he?”
“Didn’t you just say his name is Caine?”
“Caine is a man I met on the train. I have no idea who that white boy is.” She studied Gerald Williams’ face and knew she didn’t like him. He was trying to get information on the stranger by talking her into corners. If he’d just came up to ask straightforward questions she could have respected that, she supposed. “Right now, I really need to freshen up before my coach arrives. If you still want to carry my bags, I’d be grateful,” she said sweetly, knowing he didn’t. The brief expression that crossed his face conveyed he was not predisposed to serving anyone, but he quickly scooped up her suitcases.
“If you would lead the way, ma’am.” He smiled broadly and followed her as she proceeded around the building.

~*~

Outside the girl was nowhere in sight and her luggage was gone, as well.
Caine noticed a well-dressed man come from around the building.    He walked past Caine without acknowledging his presence. He stopped at the end of the walk angrily checking his watch. Caine gave the street one more cursory glance before approaching the man.
“Can I help you y?” Gerald Williams asked trying to stand taller.
“I’m looking for a young lady.”
“Indeed.”
“She got off the last train, she was wearing a light blue dress and her hair was up in thick braids. She had two big suitcases and a valise.”
“Hmm. Actually, I saw a lady meeting that description leave a few minutes ago.”
“Are you sure?” Caine eyed him with open suspicion. “What’s around back,” Caine asked coolly.
“How would I know?”
“I guess you wouldn’t, unless you’ve been around back there.”
“Sorry, I can’t be of help to you.” Williams said stepping forward to look down the street, dismissing Caine as an annoyance.
“Mister, if anything should happen to that girl,” Caine said addressing Williams’ back. He stiffened then turned around. “Did you see a young lady back there or not?”
“Yes,” Williams answered after a quick moment. “She was having a bath in a tent with those Chinese people.”
“Why didn’t you say that in the first place?”
“Why should I tell a stranger anything about a woman traveling alone?” Williams swallowed taking a step backward eyeing the other man cautiously. “I merely carried her luggage. Like I said a few minutes ago, she was met by an older couple with a wagon.”
Caine stared at him a few long hard seconds. “Who are you?”
“Excuse me?”
“What is your name, mister?”
“My name is not your business. If-” Caine barely moved. “My name is Gerald Williams. I am a man of considerable-”
“Williams, I’m going back there to talk to those people running the tents-”
“And they will tell you the same. She bathed and left. Now, if you will excuse me!”  A private coach came barreling down the street then stopped suddenly in front of them. Gerald frowned at the driver who looked abashed hopping down to open the door for him. “It’s about time!” Gerald complained. “Johnson, I hope you were attacked by Indians, because that is the only excuse I will allow for this delay.”
“Sorry, Mister Williams, but there was trouble in town. A jailbreak!”
Gerald swiftly turned to look Caine, but he had already started around the building. Looking for the girl, Gerald surmised with a frown. Then he remembered the jailbreak. “Oh dear God,” he groaned. “Johnson, get this coach back to Fire City, right now!”

~*~

“She got away, didn’t she?” The short woman asked after inviting herself to sit down with him. “Oh, I’m harmless,” she said taking his bottle pouring herself a glass. “Name’s Gertie. I run this place. You must’ve liked her, letting your meal get all cold.”
“Liked who?” Caine looked at her frowning.
“The girl that wouldn’t come inside with you,” she grinned. “I’ll tell you where she went if you pour me another one.”
“What makes you think that first one was free?”
“Aw, come on,” Gertie cajoled. “Play along. I bet I can guess where she went.”
“Doesn’t matter where she went,” Caine grumbled but went ahead and poured her a drink.
“I guess you’d rather be having a drink with her. She was a pretty one. And young.”
“Not much wrong with the company I got now.” Caine looked her over. Still good looking for a woman on the other side of forty. She smiled liking the once over. “So Gertie, tell me where you think she went, and how come.”
“Gingerville. It’s a Negro settlement. Real successful too.”
“So, because she’s black, she has to be going to Gingerville?”
“Well, I recognized the couple that came for her. Saw them a time or two meeting the train. I figure she’s a teacher because it’s always a doctor or a teacher, and the last doctor adjusted pretty well. She’s the fifth teacher in less than three years.”
“Why is it so hard to keep people?”
“Just ain’t prepared for this territory. Not enough law and order, I guess.”
“A man should make his own order,” Caine said unsympathetically.
“What if you ain’t a man?”
His thoughts went back to Veronica. She wasn’t exactly a delicate flower but he wondered if she was tough. If she had a man waiting for her. “Then I guess you better figure out something.”
“She sure was pretty,” Gertie said filling her glass again. “You get her name?”
“Yeah.”
“Gingerville is a half days ride.”
“And in the wrong direction,” Caine said. “Besides, I have other things to do than look up some prim and proper schoolteacher.”
“You got business here then?”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
“In some form or another,” Gertie agreed starting to rise.
“Leaving so soon?”
“Yeah, I’m just holding up you getting drunk. And drunk men, even you extraordinary, good looking ones, bore the hell out of me.”

About the best western ever!

                       I told y'all I love westerns.

Here is the official cover for Once an Outlaw

 

Coming Soon

Most of the action takes place in and around a growing Negro settlement somewhere in northern Montana during the late eighteen hundreds.  In the midst of gunplay, bank robbing, and kidnapping is the beginning of a love story and the start of trying friendships.

Caine Fuller is an exceptional looking man as well as a gifted gunman and reluctant outlaw. His journey over the years leads him from Texas, where his name was made, to Montana. In a way, it is his last stop. He can't go any further and he refuses to go back, especially, after meeting the smart and beautiful, adventurous, Veronica
Murray. .  Even though things are a bit difficult, they quickly fall in love. Caine's enemies are on his trail and because he wants Veronica, he decides not to run, but face any threat head on.  Amazingly, Veronica proves to be a woman experienced with trouble. It is obvious
to the female population that she has something in her past, yet Caine doesn't question the integrity of the woman she seems to be.

Sunburned by Sandra Hall ~ the conclusion

                                                                   

                                                                  A short story

     Bursting into the saloon, he let the bat wings snap back off the wall and yelled for the bartender to get off his ass to get him a glass and a bottle. "And don't talk to me," he warned, snatching the glass and bottle from the other man's hands.  He went to the nearest table and poured himself a stout one and then another.  "Damn this town. Nothing but a bunch of cowards," he grumbled. "Did exactly as he knew they would!"  He tossed his empty glass into the mirror hanging behind the bar.  
     
     The crash startled the bartender so badly that he grabbed at his chest then whistled in relief that he wasn't in immediate  peril.  He frowned at his only customer.  "Mister-" he started to carp.

     "I told you not to talk to me! Now, get me another glass before I do some real damage in here."

                                                    ~*~ 


     "Pa!" The boy ran back to his father's blacksmith shack sure he'd just heard an explosion. After pushing open the door, he carefully peered inside.  Everything was dark except for the dying coals his father recently worked on.  "Pa?" He stepped inside moving slowly until his feet brushed something big on the dirt floor. "Pa!" he screamed and dropped beside his father's body.  He screamed again when he saw the small circle of blood on his chest. "Oh no! Pa you been shot.  I'll get the doc!"

     "Too late for that, kid," a low voice said from behind in the dark, halting him in his tracks.  "He went quick, if that's a comfort to you."

     "Who-" The boy backed away.  "You- you're that bad man!"

     Judging the boy to be around twelve and seeing he was unarmed and too shaken up to challenge him, he let his pistol remain holstered.  He glanced down at the blacksmith's body. Tonight he wore a full shirt. Must've been on his way home to the family.  He looked at the boy.  "You got a ma?" He nodded and began to cry.  "You stay here with your pa and get him covered up.  You hear me?"


     "You gonna kill some more?"


     "More than likely."


     "Because they was gonna hang you?"


     "It's more than that. When you get older you might can understand it. Your ma? Was she there at the tree?"


     "No sir." The boy swallowed hard. "No way!  She was at the house fixin' supper!"


     "What she look like?"


      "Huh? What?"


      "She a big woman with a loud mouth?  She wear a gingham skirt and a white blouse?"


      "No! No, my ma is a little thing and she only wears-"


      "Boy, you lyin' to me?""


      "No sir," he said and began to cry again. "Please don't hurt anybody else. Not my ma, please. Please, mister.  I won't know how to look after my baby sister on my own."


     "Your baby sister and your ma will be fine if you stay here with your pa like I done told you. Understand?"


     "I understand.  Do you really mean it?"


     "You got my word, boy. Now, go on and cover up your pa."


      "Yes sir," he said and sniffed rising to his feet. He took a blanket from a pile and covered his father's body, then he quietly went to sit on the floor facing the wall.


     He eyed each passerby with a stoic indifference. Some ran inside, others froze at the sight of the outlaw walking purposely down the street.  He led the borrowed paint with one hand and held a pistol in the other.  He was at the front of the hotel when he noticed the old man with the scratchy beard was standing just within the doorway.  Without stopping, or even appearing to take aim, he shot the old man in the head.  In the corner of his eye, he caught a slow deliberate movement, he spun and fired again hitting a man square in the chest.  He fell squeezing off two shots into the ground.  The outlaw recognized him from the hanging party as the young farmer who gave up his horse.


     "Oh sweet lord!" a woman cried out from across the street. "He came back! The villain came back!" She picked up her skirts to run. "Nate! I gotta warn my Nate!"


     "Oh no, you don't." He pointed the pistol at her fleeing figure and shot her in the back, the bullet pushed her forward a few inches before she landed face down into the dirt.  He calmly strolled over to her, and rolled her onto her back with the tip of his boot.  Her eyes were open but he couldn't tell if she were alive.  He told her anyway, "This is what happens to greedy women that toss dirt in a tortured man's face."


     "You son of a bitch!" the banker yelled from the other side of the street.  He came out of he saloon in his shirt sleeves, and a colt .45 strapped to his thigh.  "Didn't expect you so damn soon but I knew you'd come back."  He stepped into the street waiting as the outlaw hitched the paint to a post.  "You played it dumb, Brick.  Yeah, I know it's you, you old fool.  You should've came at me first, and shot me in the back! Not a fleeing unarmed woman that's got young child-"


     "I always believed in saving the best for last," the outlaw cut in unaffected at the meant to be biting words.  He didn't have the patience for it this evening.  "The gold was my best work," he said.  "And you should prove to be my best gunfight."

     "Mistake, old timer."

     "Naw, however it plays out, I'm satisfied."

     The banker smiled, then stated. "The name is Reuben Rhodes."

     "Rhodes," Brick repeated recalling the name to wanted posters.  "Word was you died in Yuma.  Heard that was on hell of a prison. Broke a lot of men." But this banker looked anything but broken.  He was ready.  

     "Outlaw to outlaw, and just for the record, Denton. Killing the girl was an accident. She was barely touched. She got scared from the rough talk, tried to run and fell.  Hit her head.  It was her own fault being with the likes of you anyway."
      
     "She was my granddaughter, Rhodes.  After I kill you, I mean to kill your woman and burn this town to ashes.  And one more thing.  The gold was never with us. It was moved by covered wagon by some nice clean people.  Should be in California by now."


      "What! You mean all this was just a joke?"  Reuben went livid with rage.  "You let all this shit happen and there was no damn gold?"


      Both men pulled their pistols, and fired in the same instant.  Brick staggered back from the force of the bullet in his chest. 
      
      Reuben wheeled around and fell to the ground, involuntarily sending another shot outward splitting the air. Blood trickled down to his nose, dumbly he touched his forehead then stared at his bloody hand. "He shot me," he whispered as if in awe. 


"Rhodes," Brick managed to say before he hit the ground. It was rough to breathe with a chunk of lead in his heart. "Rhodes... behind you," he said gripping his chest.  "Look... behind... you." He rolled flat on his back and stopped laboring to breathe.


 "Darling?" A weak voice called behind the banker.

"Mary Jane?"  He turned and took one step towards her- and fell in a clumsy heap to the dusty street.  "I shot you?"

"Oh Reuben," she wept. 

 "Mary Jane!"  Blood in his eyes blinded him from the sight of his woman's lifeless body sliding down the front of the general store's glass window. "Oh Mary Jane," he wept too as he took his own dying breaths.

Won't Follow

Sunburned part two by Sandra Hall

                                                                    A short story



"Ain't nothing dirty about this.  Three crazed killers and their woman rode in here thinking Jessica Falls was a town full of sorry souls, but we showed you something different."

"Couldn't be bothered to wait for a judge?"

"What for? Justice is swift in these parts. But it's up to you to decide if you want to live or die today."

"I wanna live, naturally, but don't you for one minute think I'm about to beg you ghouls. You ain't takin' my life, the lord is." Spit and blood collected in his mouth and he spit out a big glob barely missing the banker's shoes.  "Pardon me," he said.  "And damn you all, you crooks and hypocrites!  I'll be waiting for everyone of you in hell!"

"Is that right?" the banker asked with a half smile.

"Yeah, son, that is right," he gritted.  "Puttin' on a suit everyday and attendin' Easter services don't change what's in a man's heart.  Baines was a master gunman, about the best I ever seen in my day. And he was a criminal through and through.  Changing his name and coming out here with you was smart, but you ain't fooling nobody.  It's on you just like it's on me."

"What the Sam Hill he going on about?" A toothless old man asked scratching his beard.

"Just some fool talk," the banker replied mildly.

"The girl was innocent," he said.  "She never took part in nothing.  She was just some little thing with nowhere to go.  I pray to God, for what it's worth, that y'all never sleep another decent night in y'alls lives. Every man, woman and child of you! Jessica Falls, be damned!"

"I've heard enough," the sleeveless man announced.  "We hangin' him or not?"  A quick cheer went through the crowd, half was for it and half against.

"I see some of y'all need persuadin'," the old outlaw surmised after sweeping the mob again.  "I know where the gold is and you can only guess for years and years to come.  Course, I don't know where it all is," he admitted. "Just what me and my partner hid together."  He paused a quick moment then went on.  "I ain't tellin' you folks where it's at though.  Kill me or not, hell, it's just the principle of the whole thing! But I will warn you anyway."

"Warn us?" The banker frowned.

"Ain't no way you gettin' away with hangin' me and killin' the gang.  And you damn sure won't be enjoyin' that gold."

"The hell you say!" The sleeveless man exclaimed.  "It ain't like we never done this before, old timer."  Then with a sudden gleam, he said loud enough for every one's benefit.  "That shipment of gold was worth two million dollars and gold bars is heavy.  Them hombres didn't get that far, might take awhile but we can find it."

"Sure you can, sunshine.  But can you find it before Brick Denton journeys down here and start making inquiries about his missing friends?  His friends what he trusted with his life to take care of his share of the gold?"

"Brick Denton ain't been heard of in years," the banker said.  "Even if he's alive, he must be damn near seventy by now, for crying out loud.  Besides all that there's no reason to believe he'd even stop here, let alone assume anything about our part in anything."

"True, that's one way to look at it. But come on now. Do you really think we just happened upon this dust bowl of a town?"

"He might have a point," the toothless old man shared.  "I don't think, that is, we ought to think about this some more."

"He's bluffing," the banker said.  "A desperate man will say anything to save his life.  Brick Denton is one man.  Jessica Falls is a town full of able men.  We got this one and the other two, didn't we?"

"You did," the outlaw agreed. "Real sly too.  We never knew you folks was on to us.  Course killing two men in their sleep-"  the banker moved fast snatching a handful of his red hair dragging him to the ground.  He backhanded the outlaw across the face and lips.  "Jamie Taylor and Josh Briggs rode in here with me two days ago.  Everyone saw 'em, but there's only me left to testify.  And you personally beat that girl until she died!"

"That was a mistake, an accident."

"Whatever you say," the outlaw acquiesced,  pushing off the ground with the aid of the mule's solid body.  "And be sure you tell it the way to Brick and the four or five pals he happens to be travelin' with."

"Who is this Brick person?" the young woman asked the banker.  The outlaw noticed how they never moved far from the other.

"Just another maniac."

The outlaw chuckled and the banker punched him hard in the stomach.  "You bloomin' bastard," he uttered, barely above a whisper.  "Why don't you tell her the truth?"

"What truth?" she asked.

Backing off the outlaw, the banker reluctantly replied.  "Denton was the leader of the nefarious gang called the Texas Tornadoes.  It was years ago, I was a youngster back then still in school.  They took over towns for days until they got bored or they destroyed everything.  Usually with fire, sometimes dynamite."

"My God," the young woman whispered.  "If he should find out about us-"

"Our gooses is cooked!" the old man exclaimed.

"It sure puts a different light on things," the sleeveless man said.

"What do you mean?" A large woman with big bosoms demanded.  "We ain't givin' up on that gold.  Hang him like we agreed."

"Okay folks, I'll tell you what," the outlaw said no longer pretending to be even semi amused.  It was his life or his death.  One way or the other he was getting out of that hot sun.  "Hang me and you might find the gold, only I guarantee you,  Brick is gonna know what happened here.  He'll kill you all or make you wish you was dead because Brick never plays around or takes chances."  Gasps and groans spread through the crowd as fear filled many of their hearts.  More than half the mob seemed to rethink his or her position and urged the others to do the same before they fled the scene of the hanging tree. The old outlaw chuckled again.  "Then there's the alternative," he shared.  "Cut me loose.  Give me a horse and provisions for a few days ride."  He paused to gauge the mobs reaction.  "In return, I'll steer Brick clear of this place.  Make him think the fellas took off on their own.  I see your hesitation folks, but what choice do you really have?"

"You think we are a bunch of fools and cowards," the banker marveled, then asked. "Trust you?"

"You'll leave us be?" a young man spoke up for the first time.  "After we- after what we done?"

"At the moment, young fella, my only concern is the children.  The only true innocents in this world.  There weren't nothin' to be done about them children on that train.  Maybe this'll help square things with the Almighty."

"I doubt that," the big woman smirked.

The outlaw regarded her a moment through slitted eyes then rolled them away dismissing her from his sight.  "Regardless," he said.  "You folks got a decision to make."

"Some choice," the sleeveless man said and spat on the ground.  "We let him go, we lose the gold with no guarantee him and his buddies won't seek revenge.  We'll be sitting ducks."

"You have my word.  I don't particularly want to see women and children hurt.  This way everyone gets what he wants."  He looked at the bitter faced banker then added, "More or less."

"We can't risk the town," the young woman addressed the banker quietly.

"It was all a pipe dream anyway," the scratchy beard said sadly.

"Without that gold," the banker stressed, trying one more time to get their support.  "We are done.  We'll be stuck here scratching around just to survive.  Don't you want another chance?"

"It's too risky," the sleeveless man decided.  "Some of us got children to consider."  He looked at the big woman to back him up.

"You are right," she said giving in as well.  "He might keep his word."

"Damn you all," the banker whispered belying his aggravation.  He took a knife from his vest pocket and angrily cut the outlaw's bonds.   "All right, you win.  Take that mule and get the hell out of my town!"

"I said, I'll be needin' provisions."  He walked around the animal frowning, spitting more bloody saliva on the ground.  "Won't do," he said.  "I need a strong, fast animal.  Like that paint I saw in front of the land office."

"But that's mine," a young farmer started to protest.  "All right," he mumbled.  "I'll go get it."

"And be quick about it."  In the meanwhile, somebody took off his shirt and offered it to the outlaw.

"No hard feelings?" the big woman asked handing him her handkerchief so he could wipe his bloody mouth.

He eyeballed her choosing not to speak until the farmer returned with the paint.

"We made a deal, you bastards and sons of bitches," he said derisively and climbed on the horse.  "My feelings ain't got nothin' to do with it."  He rested his eyes on the banker then swung the animal around masterfully at a gallop into the crowd then away heading toward the hills.

"You maniac!" the fat woman screamed after him brushing dust from her blouse.

"I hope we don't live to regret this," the young woman said speaking to the banker.  Furiously, he pulled his arm out of her tight grasp to storm off back into town leaving her standing under the hanging tree with the other conspirators.



To be continued

breathless