Boom Town (The McCabes Book 4)

  BOOM TOWN

  Brad Dennison

  Author of

  THE LONG TRAIL and RETURN OF THE GUNHAWK

  Published by Pine Bookshelf

  Buford, Georgia

  Boom Town is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright 2014 by Bradley A. Dennison.

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover Design: Donna Dennison

  Cover Art: Fall of the Cowboy, by Frederic Remington

  Copy Editors: Loretta Yike

  Donna Dennison

  THE McCABES

  The Long Trail

  One Man’s Shadow

  Return of the Gunhawk

  Boom Town

  Trail Drive

  Johnny McCabe

  Shoshone Valley (Coming Soon)

  JUBILEE

  Preacher With A Gun

  Gunhawk Blood (Coming Soon)

  THE TEXAS RANGER

  Tremain

  Wardtown

  Jericho (Coming Soon)

  To my munchkins, Megan and Seth,

  who are growing up way too fast.

  Contents

  PART ONE

  The McCabe Trail

  1

  2

  PART TWO

  The First Chinook

  3

  4

  5

  6

  PART THREE

  The Second Chinook

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  PART FOUR

  The Gold Rush

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  PART FIVE

  The Homecoming

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  PART SIX

  El Rosario

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  PART SEVEN

  Mahalia

  31

  32

  33

  34

  35

  36

  37

  38

  39

  40

  PART EIGHT

  Early Autumn

  41

  42

  43

  44

  45

  46

  47

  48

  49

  Coming Soon:

  PART ONE

  The McCabe Trail

  1

  June, 1880

  Jessica said, “Oh, Johnny. You were right. It is so incredibly beautiful here.”

  They were knee-deep in grass. It was early summer, and the grass was still green from the spring run-off. Johnny and Jessica stood on a low, rounded ridge, and below them the land stretched away in a canopy of green. Flowers showing pink or red or white swayed in the wind, and the grass rippled like waves in an ocean.

  Jessica leaned into Johnny the way a woman does with the man she loves, and he had one arm about her shoulders.

  Behind them, about a hundred yards away, were the wagons. This was where they had camped the previous night. Behind the wagons was the trail that cut north from the Bozeman trail to McCabe Gap.

  Johnny felt small arms wrap around his leg, and he looked down to see Cora. He lifted Cora, and slid arm one underneath her so she could sort of sit in the crook of his elbow.

  “What do you think, sweetie?” he said. “Do you think you’ll be happy here?”

  She nodded. “It’s nice here. But it’s different than home was. It’s colder and windier.”

  Johnny grinned and nodded. “Windier. It sure is. It’ll be a little less windy when we get into the valley. But it’ll be cold in the winter, and with lots of snow.”

  “Snow? Really?”

  He had told her this before, but she apparently liked to hear it.

  He said, “There’ll be snow drifts as tall as you are.”

  “Will I be able to build a snowman?”

  “You bet you will, sweetie.”

  “How much longer till we’re there?”

  Johnny said, “We should be there before dark. We’ll get moving once the boys are back.”

  Jessica said, “Looks like they’re coming now.”

  Five riders had topped a low hill maybe a mile off and were coming toward them.

  Johnny figured they were eight miles south and east of the valley, near land that was claimed by Zack Johnsons’ ranch. The herd they had brought with them officially belonged to the Swan-McCabe Cattle Company, meaning the critters belonged to Matt and Jessica, and to Johnny through marriage to Jessica. Since Johnny and Zack shared range with each other and their herds were often mingled, Zack saw no reason why they couldn’t leave the Swan-McCabe herd on his range for a while.

  Matt and Peddie walked up to them, hand-in-hand. Like young lovers, Johnny thought. Josh and Temperence often walked like that. And Jack and Nina. Even though Matt was forty-five, something about love can bring out the youth in a man.

  Matt said, “Looks like that’s Joe and the boys. Time to get these wagons moving again.”

  The riders topped the hill and reined up by Johnny and the others.

  Johnny said, “Any problems?”

  Joe shook his head. “None.”

  Zack said, “Ramon is there at the line shack. He and the boys’ll watch out for his herd.”

  Johnny nodded. “Let’s get moving, then.”

  “One thing,” Joe said. “I think this is where we should part company.”

  This had Johnny curious.

  Dusty said, “There’s a man in a Mexican prison we owe a debt to.”

  Johnny said, “I thought we were going to take care of that after we got everyone settled in the valley.”

  “Not we,” Joe said. “We talked about it, the three of us. You and Matt ain’t coming.”

  “Now, hold on.”

  Joe shook his head. “You’re not allowed. You both have bigger responsibilities. You, to Jessica and Cora. And Matt, to Peddie.”

  Matt said, “I don’t like the idea of you all fighting our battles for us.”

  Zack said, “It’s not like that at all. It’s just that you and Johnny have more important things to take care of.”

  Johnny looked at Jessica. She hadn’t liked the idea of him riding down to Mexico. Breaking a man out of a prison was no easy thing, and it was likely any who weren’t killed in the process would have a price on his head. If Johnny didn’t get himself killed trying to break Sam out of prison, he would have to be on the run. Either way, he wouldn’t be here with Jessica and Cora. She understood he felt obliged to go, but she was mighty glad Zack and Joe and Dusty were taking the stance they were.

  The look in her eyes and the arch of her brows conveyed all of this. Such was the magic of a woman, Johnny thought. He reached out and took her hand. She knew he had lost this battle, but she allowed a grateful smile.

  Johnny said, “You should at least all come to the valley first. I know Ginny would like to see you both before you light out again,” he directed this at Dusty and Zack, and to Joe he said, “And she hasn’t seen you in a coon’s age.”

  Dusty said, “If we do that, then Josh will want to ride with us. He can’t. Jack will probably want to come too. They’re good men, but they’re not outlaws. For what we have ahead of us, you need an outlaw.”

  Johnny looked long at
his son. Johnny knew he was right.

  Tom had come strolling up, too. The preacher with a gun at his side. Lettie was back at the wagon with Mercy.

  Tom said to the men on horseback, “Be safe. Do what you have to do and return to us.”

  Matt said to the men, “Do you have any plan in mind?”

  Joe said, “None at all. We don’t even know where he’s being held.”

  Zack said, “Time to ride. We’ll be back when we can.”

  If they can, Johnny thought. Of all of the adventures he had been involved in throughout his life, nothing was as big as breaking a man out of a Mexican prison. He knew there was a good chance he would never see any of them again.

  Johnny extended his hand up to Dusty, who reached down to take it.

  Johnny said, “You do me proud. I only wish I had known of you sooner.”

  Dusty looked like he was about to say something. Maybe offer some sort of light-hearted thing like, Oh, you’ll see me again. We’ll be back before you know it. But he knew his father fully understood the immensity of the job ahead of them, and so he said nothing.

  Johnny in turn shook hands with each of them.

  To Joe he said, “You’ve been gone so long. It’s been great riding with you again, these past few months.”

  Joe nodded, shaking Johnny’s hand but saying nothing. A man of few words. He always had been.

  Zack said, “You take care of my spread while I’m gone. Check in on Ramon once in a while, see if he needs anything.”

  Johnny nodded. “You know I will.”

  There was a round of hand-shaking with Matt and Tom, and then Zack said, “Let’s ride.”

  They started out cutting directly south. Johnny and Jessica stood, watching them plow a path through the tall grass along the slope. She slipped her hand back into his.

  At the base of the slope, the riders began following a low area between two grassy rises, and then were gone from sight.

  Jessica said, “Sam Middleton was right. You men are the stuff of legends.”

  Johnny snorted a chuckle. “I don’t know about that. We’re just men who see something that has to be done, and we’re blessed enough to have the ability to do it. Blessed or cursed. I’m not sure which, sometimes.”

  Jessica gave his hand a squeeze.

  Tom stood silently a few moments, his eyes shut. When he opened his eyes, Johnny said, “Offering a prayer?”

  Tom shrugged. “For all the good it’ll do. One thing I’ve learned the hard way this past year—God doesn’t always listen.”

  The broken preacher, Johnny thought.

  Johnny said, “God always listens.”

  “Let’s hope you’re right.” Tom turned and headed back to the wagon where Lettie and Mercy waited for him.

  Johnny said to anyone within listening range, “Come on. Let’s get going.”

  But Jessica threw her arms around him. She said, “I’m so glad you’re not going.”

  He returned the hug, squeezing her like he couldn’t pull her close enough to him.

  “I’ve never let another man fight a battle for me,” he said. “This is the first time, and it doesn’t set well. But they’re right. I have a greater responsibility.”

  Then Jessica said, “Come on. I can’t wait to meet everyone.”

  2

  The Bozeman Trail swung more or less north from Cheyenne to Montana Territory, where it curved westward toward the town bearing its name. Shortly after the point where it began curving, another trail split off and headed north. This trail came to within a short riding distance of McCabe Gap, and was coming to be called the McCabe Trail. Johnny felt a little embarrassed by the thought of a trail bearing his name, so he often just called it the main trail, or the trail down to Bozeman.

  The wagons were now moving along this trail. Johnny was on the wagon seat, reins in his hands. Not that Jessica couldn’t drive the wagon well enough. It was just that he felt like sitting beside her and Cora. He knew he might never see Dusty again, and since Jessica and Cora were now family too, he found he wanted to keep his family close.

  Cora was too young to have developed an appreciation for the world around her, and was lying on the wagon seat with her head in Jessica’s lap.

  Jessica, however, was staring in awe at the ridges. Most were covered with pine, but some rose to jagged rocky summits. Overhead, an eagle circled about.

  “Johnny,” she said. “How is it possible to live in a land like this and not simply stare in wonder all day long?”

  He shrugged. “You sort of get used to it, I guess. Though I will admit, I’m glad to be home.”

  “I don’t see how anyone could ever get used to this.”

  Cora murmured, “Are we there yet?”

  “Soon, little one,” Johnny said. “Soon.”

  They stopped after a time to rest the teams. Matt got down on one knee to look under the wagon. He had a questionable axle and was hoping it would hold out until they reached Johnny’s ranch.

  Johnny said from behind him, “How is it?”

  “Got a small crack. I’m glad we’re near that town of yours. I don’t know how much longer this is going to last.”

  He straightened up. “Once we get moving, we’re going to have to take it slow.”

  “We’re close enough. We’ll be there by tonight.”

  Wagons were approaching from the south. A line of freight wagons, looked like. Buckboards with cargo in the back and canvas stretched over it and tied down. A line of freight wagons had passed them the afternoon before, when they had stopped to make camp.

  “Never knew this stretch to be so busy,” Johnny said. “There’s not a whole lot north of here.”

  After the teams of mules were rested to Johnny’s satisfaction, he climbed back up into the wagon seat. Jessica had climbed back up also, along with Cora.

  “We’re going to have to take it slow,” Johnny said to Jessica. “Matt’s axel is not looking good.”

  A man called from off to one side and behind them a bit. “Ahoy, there! Hello, the wagons!”

  Johnny looked at Jessica. “Ahoy?”

  A covered wagon pulled up beside them. It was being pulled by a team of mules. A man was in the seat, and a woman. The man looked to be maybe thirty, long and thin and with a floppy felt hat. He wore lace-up boots and homespun trousers. Farmer, Johnny immediately thought. Beside the man on the seat was a woman who looked to be a fair bit younger, and she had an infant in her arms.

  “You folks bound for Jubilee?” The man said, his brows arched with enthusiasm.

  “Jubilee?” Johnny said. He wasn’t sure what the man meant. He had used the word like it was a destination. A town, or something. But there was no place north of here that Johnny knew of by that name, and he had been living in these mountains for a long time.

  “You bet-cha,” the man said. “Jubilee. There’s land for the taking. And there’s gold!”

  He snapped the reins and gave a “giddyup, there!” And he was off.

  Johnny sat for a moment beside Jessica and Cora watching the wagon bump its way along the trail. The man was working the team much too hard. Looked like he was in a hurry to get where he was going.

  “Jubilee?” Jessica asked. “What’s that?”

  Johnny shrugged his shoulders. “I have no idea.”

  He gave a light snap to the reins, and their own team of mules started forward.

  They had put three miles of trail behind them when a stagecoach came up behind them. The horses weren’t moving at a full gallop, like the stagecoach teams always seemed to be doing in dime novels. Rather, the driver was keeping them to a light trot.

  Johnny saw the driver was old Hank.

  Hank raised an arm and waved at him. “Johnny! Good to see you!”

  “You too, Hank!” Johnny called back.

  And the stage continued along.

  “It’s not Wednesday, is it?” Johnny said. “When you’re on the trail, one day seems pretty much like another and it’s
easy to lose count.”

  “No,” she said, counting the days in her mind to make sure. “It’s Monday.”

  “The stage into town only arrives on Wednesdays. There’s not enough people in McCabe Gap for anything more.”

  They rode for another two hours, stopping to rest the teams again.

  Matt crawled under his wagon for another look at his axel, and announced it seemed to be holding.

  They began moving again, and after a time Johnny said to Jessica, “See that low rise up ahead? Once we’re over that, we’ll be within sight of the town.”

  She was smiling. “I can’t wait to meet everyone.”

  Johnny had told her in detail of the little town that bore his name. It was in a wide expanse between two ridges. Not really a pass, but Johnny had named it McCabe Gap, using the old name for a pass.

  Johnny had told Jessica how the first building in McCabe Gap was put up by the man called Hunter. A large building made of logs that served as a saloon. It became a gathering place, and eventually a man named Frank Shapleigh came in and built a hotel, and then the stagecoach from Bozeman began stopping once a week. A man by the name of Charlie Franklin built a general store. A woman by the name of Alisha Summers came in, setting up a business to tend to the needs of the local cowhands. A small church was built, which served during the week as a small school for local children. Not that there were that many children, because there were very few people living in and around McCabe Gap. At last count, there were twelve children attending school regularly.

  But as the wagon Johnny was driving topped the low ridge and they came within view of the town, Johnny saw buildings that hadn’t been there the summer before. Buildings stood facing each other, forming a small street that headed toward Hunter’s. There were two buildings partially completed. One was no more than a framework of two-by-fours, with a couple of men Johnny didn’t recognize swinging hammers and pounding nails. A buckboard filled with lumber rested near them.

  “Johnny,” Jessica said, “this isn’t quite what you described.”

  “No, it’s not.”