The Veteran’s Last Fight (Preview)

Prologue

Wyoming, 1866

“What’s the world coming to?” 

An elderly gent, mostly hidden by his newspaper, clucked in disapproval as the stagecoach swayed back and forth. 

“They say that a pair of bandits have robbed a moving train,” the man went on. “You’d have to be plumb crazy to climb onto a car going twenty miles an hour!”

John Arrington covered his mouth with his hand to hide a smile and exchanged a glance with his friend Edwin. Daring train robberies were hardly news to them. They were fresh from the war, and Edwin was probably thinking the same thing he was. 

That the thieves were probably vets who’d gotten the idea to rob a train from the train robberies and track sabotage that had happened during the war. 

The thieves had just decided to go into business for themselves in peacetime.

Edwin leaned over to whisper, “Why didn’t we think of that?”

John shook his head and refused to encourage his crazy friend. He shot him a quelling glance and put a finger to his lips.

“Well, I never,” the old man quavered in outrage. “They say the bandits made off with thirteen thousand dollars off an Ohio and Mississippi train!”

Edwin lowered laughing eyes to the floor, and John turned to look out the window to hide his own amusement. It was good to be back home. It was especially good to be in a place where mayhem was rare enough to inspire shock. After years of war, he was ready for life to be peaceful again.

More than ready.

“The bandits were brothers,” the old man read aloud. “John and Simeon Reno.”

John rubbed his nose to hide his smile. He was feeling so good that it was hard to keep a straight face. Life was beautiful, and he was so happy he was ready to laugh when nothing was even funny. 

He and Edwin were the luckiest men in the world. In spite of everything they’d gone through, they were back from the war, alive and whole, and now they were only a few miles from his parents’ ranch.
John stared at the countryside as the stagecoach bounced along. He knew every tree and rock they passed, knew every bend in the road. He’d grown up in those hills, played in those meadows as a kid, kissed his first girl behind those trees. 

He’d dreamed of this day for three long years, and now he was back. He couldn’t wait to throw his arms around his pa’s neck, to kiss his mother, to hug his brothers and sisters.

A bittersweet mood took him, and his smile faded a bit. He’d never again be the green kid who’d left this place, but at that moment, the ghost of that boy stirred in his heart.

John glanced back at Edwin and suffered a flick of sympathy. His buddy couldn’t feel the joy he was feeling. Edwin didn’t have a family of his own to go back to, so he’d offered him a job at his parents’ ranch.

His smile slowly returned. Edwin would become a member of their family as soon as he arrived. He was brave, he was smart, he was loyal, and he could charm a bird down from a tree.

John’s lips curved in a knowing smile. And if he got a girl, Edwin would probably steal her, but that was a risk he’d just to have to take.

Edwin had become like a brother to him.

* * * 

The stagecoach lumbered along for another thirty minutes, and John traced its progress in his mind, ticking off all the familiar landmarks of his childhood.
There was one last stagecoach stop before they reached his home, and the coach gradually slowed as they neared it. John stuck his head out the window to drink in the welcome, familiar sight of Dry Wells. It had been a dusty one-horse town when he was a kid, and it was still a dusty one-horse town. But to him its solitary street of faded clapboard buildings was more beautiful than all the green hills and white mansions of Virginia. 

There was a familiar figure standing at the stagecoach stop, and John called out as the coach rolled to a stop. 

“Daisy Morgan!”

The gray-haired matron looked up, and her initial confusion melted as recognition dawned over her face. “John?” she gasped. “Is that you?”

John pushed the coach door open and reached down to help her climb in. She took his hand and plopped down on the seat beside him. “John Arrington, I hardly knew you, you’re so grown up!” She laughed and leaned over to hug him. “You’re a man now,” she marveled, and leaned back to look at him. “I was just going to visit your mother. I never thought I’d be going with a soldier just back from the war! It’s so good to see you. We were all praying you’d come back safe.”

The smile faded from John’s face, and a slight cough from beside him made him glance at Edwin, then at his old family friend. “Daisy, this is Edwin Matthews,” he explained. “We were in the same company, and now that the war’s over he’s coming to work on the ranch with us.”

Edwin leaned across him to flash a toothy smile and take her hand. He lifted it mischievously to his lips and John almost rolled his eyes. Edwin was a real showboat.

“How do you do, Miss Daisy. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Daisy clucked, “Law, the girls in this county are going to be fighting each other over you handsome boys. One dark boy and one fair one! We haven’t seen any weddings in this place for four years, and we’re tired of waiting. Just in case you didn’t understand, that’s a hint, gentlemen.”

John hid his mouth behind his hand, but Edwin’s smile broadened. “Well, it’s always nice to get a warm welcome, ma’am.”
“You’ll have that,” Daisy predicted with a chuckle. Her eyes returned to John’s face. “Do your folks know you’re coming?”

John shook his head. “I wanted to surprise them.”

Daisy shook with silent laughter. “Well,” she gasped and wiped her eyes, “it’ll be a surprise all right! You’ll have to get a board to carry your momma to the settee. The sight of you is gonna lay her out!”

John sputtered at the mental image in spite of himself, and he leaned over to pull the door closed as the driver yelled, “Last call! Dry Wells to Calum’s Corner! Last call!”

John settled in, because there wasn’t going to be anybody else getting on. There never was. Traffic to his home was sparse, and the last leg of the trip passed through some of the most remote and inaccessible country for miles.

The coach jerked sharply, then took off again, and the motion stirred the old man up again. “There’s a five thousand dollar re-ward for the arrest and conviction of the robbers,” he read aloud.

Daisy looked a question, and John smiled. “He’s reading an article about a train robbery,” he whispered.

Daisy nodded. “Oh, I see.” Her cheerful face clouded, and she added, “That sort of thing is everywhere these days.” She leaned toward John and confided, “That’s something you’re going to notice now that you’re back. There’s crime now. Even out in the country.”

John shrugged comfortably and looked away. He could believe that about the big cities, but not his hometown. Calum’s Corner had been founded by his grandfather, Calum Arrington. It was mostly peopled by his family and their close relatives, and they were sturdy enough, fractious enough, and well-armed enough to keep bandits away.

The coach rattled past the last outposts of Dry Wells and plunged immediately into the Wyoming wilderness. John watched the hilly, mostly treeless landscape passing by and ticked off every milestone in his mind. They only had five more miles to go, and then he was home.

The coach started to climb up a long incline. A rocky ridge separated the rest of the world from the rugged highlands where his family lived. Calum’s Corner was nestled in a green valley between the arms of a mountain. The mountain surrounded it on three sides, and to get to it, the coach had to pass through a narrow road picked out between narrow, rocky passes.

Edwin glanced out the window at the passing scenery. “I just saw a mountain goat,” he announced casually, then turned mock-amazed eyes to John’s face.

John shook his head and laughed. “I told you my family’s ranch was remote.”

“Yes, but…”

The old man turned the pages of his newspaper and announced, “The gang fled as a posse approached. The Pinkerton Detective Agency has been engaged to find the outlaws.”

Daisy stirred and replied tartly, “I wish every robbery got as quick a reply. It shouldn’t have to take a brazen daylight crime to get the law on the case.”

The old man lowered his newspaper to peer at her over his glasses. “Amen, madam, amen.”

The coach tilted to one side as they rounded a sharp curve, and Edwin stared out the window with an expression of awe. John smiled and lowered his eyes. It was a harrowing ride, sure enough, and it was Edwin’s first trip west. He was a city boy from Boston. The only experience he had of the wilderness was the forests of Virginia and Pennsylvania, during the war.

But the low, rounded mountains of Appalachia couldn’t prepare a man for the towering Grand Teton range. John glanced out the window. He could see their snow-capped spires in the distance, glimmering white on the horizon.

It was a familiar view, and it warmed his heart. He’d seen those mountains through his bedroom window all during his childhood, and they’d been the backdrop for all his boyish dreams.

The coach hit a rock, and they all bounced violently into the air. John grabbed Daisy’s shoulders and helped to anchor her down as they hit another rock and went airborne again.

“Whee!” the driver shouted from outside. “Hold on, folks!”

Daisy reached for her straw bonnet, which had been knocked sideways over one eye. She straightened it and yelped, “We need to repair this road. It gets worse every year!”

John smiled down at her. “I’m not complaining. I’d rather be bouncing over these rocks and potholes than to be riding in a Pullman car.”

Daisy looked up at him and gave him a pitying smile. She clasped his hand and was about to say something when the pop of gunfire outside made him sit bolt upright.

The driver shouted to the horses and the coach plowed past four mounted men on horseback. John leaned out the window to get a glimpse of masked men with rifles, and he dug in his jacket for his revolver. 

“Road agents! Everybody get down!”
Daisy shrieked and threw herself into the floor of the coach, and John and Edwin moved to the windows. The coach rocked crazily as the driver sent the team down the rocky road full-tilt. They hit another rock and went airborne, then fell down again with a crash. 

John leaned out the window and popped off a few shots. The bandits were riding hard after them, and the pop and whine of bullets hissed past his ears as he tried to draw a bead on the foremost rider. He could hear Edwin shooting from the other side of the coach, and as he watched, one of the bandits went down.

The back of the coach was suddenly pocked with bullet holes, and John bent over Daisy to shield her as the driver shouted and the coach went airborne again. There was a heavy thump, as if they’d run over something, and the horses screamed as the coach slammed hard to the left and rounded a hairpin turn on two wheels.

Edwin clambered up from the floor of the coach and struggled back to the window. He popped off another shot, and the coach jounced again.

They rattled down a steep slope, flying past boulders with only inches to spare, then hit another rock. This time the coach slammed hard to one side, and the axel broke with a sound like a shotgun blast. Daisy screamed as the coach was yanked off the frame and was dragged over the rocky road, then slammed hard against a boulder.

John clamped her to his chest just seconds before they all were thrown against the sides of the coach. He managed to protect her from hitting the wall, but he was slammed against it and lost consciousness for a few heartbeats. When he came around and the gray curtain lifted, he heard the horses screaming and galloping away, dragging the rattling chains behind them.

He looked down at Daisy. “Are you all right?”

The older woman looked up at him through her hair and nodded, and John helped her sit upright. Edwin scrabbled in the floor of the coach and yelped, “I lost my gun! John, help me look—”

The sound of hoofbeats roared up around the coach, and John looked out through the upside-down door to see horse’s legs. A rough voice bawled, “Come out of there or we’ll blast you out!”

Daisy looked up into his face with frightened eyes, and John curled his hands around her thin shoulders. “Don’t worry,” he whispered, “I’m here. Go ahead and climb out, I’m right behind you.”

He pushed the broken door open and helped the older woman crawl out. He clambered out after her and pulled her to his side as they stood there, looking up into the faces of four masked road agents.

“Where are the others?”

John narrowed his eyes, but replied, “There’s an old man in there. He may be unconscious.”

“There was more than an old man,” one of the men growled. “There were two of you shooting at us. You killed one of my men!”

Daisy looked up at him fearfully, but he tightened his arm around her. 

“You in there,” the apparent leader yelled, “come on out or we’ll start shooting!”

The old man’s voice from inside the coach quavered, “We’re coming!”

They all watched as the old gentleman crawled through the smashed opening, followed by Edwin, who straightened up and glared at the mounted bandits. He stepped up beside John and stood silently as his shoulder.

The bandit leader nodded toward the empty front seat. “Where’s the driver?”

John shot the coach a stricken look. He’d forgotten about the driver. “He’s probably dead,” he replied in a resentful voice. “He had to have been thrown in the crash.”

The leader turned to his men. “Go open the box,” he commanded. “See if there’s anything in it. Meantime,” he added with a nod toward all of them, “hand over your valuables. Watches, money, jewelry. You too, old woman.”

“Leave her alone,” John growled, “if you’ve got any shame left! It’s bad enough to be a skulking thief, but you have to be a real special kind of low to rob an old woman!”

Daisy glanced from his face to the robber’s and yelped, “It’s all right, I’ll give you what I have!” She tugged at a ring on her finger and held it up for the man to take, but his glaring eyes were on John’s face.

“Why you son of a whore,” he spat, “I’ve knifed men for saying less to me!”

John felt his lip curling, and before he could control himself he replied, “You come down off that horse, if you’ve got the guts. I’ve fought better men than you hand to hand, and I’m not afraid to do it again!”

John felt Edwin move up beside him. Daisy clutched his chest and hissed, “John, don’t, just do what he says and maybe we can—”

He passed her off to Edwin and faced the bandit leader, his fists clenched. “Come on down here!” he challenged. 

The bandit’s eyes narrowed over his mask. “I’ve got a better idea,” he sneered and raised his gun. Daisy screamed as Edwin pushed her aside, and before John knew what was happening, Edwin shoved him aside as the bandit’s revolver popped.

John fell onto the ground and looked up through his hair. Edwin was on his hands and knees beside him. 

He scrambled to his friend’s side. “Ed?” To his horror, a red stain was spreading across his friend’s chest, and his eyes blurred with tears.

Edwin looked up at him and smiled crookedly. “Thanks for the offer,” he gasped. “But looks like I won’t…be a cowboy.”

John shook his head bitterly. “You can’t die,” he whispered. “We made it out of the war, Ed. We made it. It can’t end like this!”

But Edwin’s eyes rolled up and he slowly went limp in his arms. John bowed his head and wept as the bandit crowed, “You ain’t so tough now, are you farm boy? That’s to show you who’s boss around here.” He turned to his henchmen and called, “What about that box?”

One of the men called from the front of the coach. “Some money here. Not much.”

John slowly stood up with murder in his heart and his fists clenched in fury. In the split-second that the bandit turned away, he lunged at him. But before he could lay his hands on the man who’d killed his friend, something smashed across the back of his head, and the world went dark.

 

Chapter One

John woke to a splitting headache and the sound of soft weeping. He groaned and put a hand to his throbbing head, and Daisy’s tearful voice whispered, “Lie still, John. You got hit over the head.”

He opened his eyes to see Daisy’s sorrowful face looking down at him. He was lying on the ground, and for a moment he didn’t know where he was. 

Then everything came back to him, and he rolled his eyes to where Edwin’s body was lying. He struggled up on one elbow and reached out to touch his arm.

“Where are they?”

Daisy shook her head. “They robbed us and left. The big brute wanted to kill you, but the others talked him out of it. It’s just the mercy of God you’re still alive!”

She pressed a handkerchief to her mouth and wept, and John sat up. He gazed down at his friend numbly. Edwin was dead, murdered not five miles from home It didn’t feel real.

His brows rushed together, and he moved closer to Edwin’s body. “He always wore a silver medallion,” he murmured. “I don’t see it.”

Daisy dissolved into tears. “They tore it off him!” she wept. “They shot him and tore it off his neck! I’ve never heard of anything so wicked,” she sobbed. 

John stared at her numbly. It took a moment for the enormity of it to sink in, and slowly rage began to well up in his heart—black, burning, murderous rage. 

He clenched his fist as he stared down at Ed’s body. He’d killed plenty of men in the war, men he’d never met and had nothing against. And if he could kill strangers in the name of his country, he could kill a murderer in the name of justice.

He raised a trembling fist and nodded tearfully at his friend’s body. “I’m going to kill them, Ed,” he vowed quietly. “I’m going to avenge you, I swear it. If it’s the last thing I do in this world, I’m going to kill them all.”

He looked up to see Daisy’s frightened eyes on his face, but he staggered off to sit by himself for a while. He didn’t have the strength to explain it to her, and he was too furious for a civilized conversation.

He sat there, staring numbly into space, for what seemed a long time. His mind hardly seemed connected to his body. His throbbing head was the only part of him that had feeling in it.

The moans of the old man finally pulled John out of his despair. He looked up to see the elderly gentleman leaning against a rock. He was panting for air in the heat and looked as if he might be about to pass out.

“I need water,” he gasped. “I’m gonna faint.”

John climbed to his feet and went looking for a canteen. He stumbled through the wreckage, searching among the boxes and luggage that got thrown from the top of the coach. He finally found an undamaged canteen, and he opened it and carried it over to the old man.

“Here. Take a drink.”

The man lifted it to his lips with trembling hands, then closed his eyes in relief. “Thank you son,” he gasped. “I needed that.”

John took him by the shoulder. “Why don’t you sit down over here in the shade? I’m sure somebody will come by before long. Until then, we should rest.”

He walked over to where Daisy was kneeling down, still weeping, and helped her stand up. “Come on, Daisy,” he murmured. “Come and sit in the shade. It’s getting too hot to be out in the sun.”

He helped her over to the overhanging shelf of rock and gave her his arm as she slowly sank down to the ground.

The old man offered the canteen. “Take a drink, ma’am,” he urged, and John passed the canteen to Daisy’s hands. He watched in pity as she gulped it down. He’d known Daisy since he was a kid, and he’d never seen her eat without a napkin. But she was too desperate now to worry about being a lady.

Hate stirred in him again, and he shot a dark glance to the southwest. Those snakes had made a mistake to let him live. No matter how long it took, he was gonna find them.