Fallon's Land

By Terry W. Manning

Standing in the street of Dry Run, were three individuals, two who were intent on killing the one, carrying guns and enough hate for 10 gunfights. This fight was a long time in coming, a fight had been building for over one hundred and fifty years, and cooler heads or the law could no longer prevent it from playing out!
Today is a day of reckoning that had been building since my, great, great, great grandfather Jedediah Fallon first came to Wyoming back in 1860.
It was a hot, sweltering day in the streets of Dry Run, Wyoming. On a day such as this, most people would be inside, soaking up the coolness of hard running air conditioning systems.
This day in Dry Run, the good town folk were on the sidewalks, watching the scene that was unfolding before them. Our town was like all western towns in the 21st Century. There were plenty of stories of gunfights in its history, with murders, lynching and hangings. The type of events that feed the rich lore that made multitudes of television shows and movies. Dime novels made events like quick-draw gunfights, done either at noon, outside a saloon or at dawn, a thing that fed the minds of the world and the country.
Children grew up with their wooden guns, walking towards each other, waiting for the other to draw their gun. Then the sounds of the children yelling, “Bang-bang” and then playfully falling dead in the street.
We have the exaggerated tales of gunfights with the fastest on the draw killing his opponent. It was mostly the ignorant by-stander, thinking they had a great view of what was about to transpire, being the shot and ending up in the local cemetery! That left the two gunfighters fighting to be the first one to draw back the hammers on their pistols to get the second shot fired next!
Dry Run, Wyoming was no different. The extraordinary difference from most western towns, was its lore based upon the my family protecting Dry Run and our Native American friends from one particular bad element that had infested the area with a bullish, overbearing attitude, bent on any criminal activity from rustling to gang style enforcers.
Today appeared to be another day for the history books.
However, I am getting ahead of myself. Let me take you back to when the bad blood and hostilities began...!
My name is Trece Fallon and this is my family's story....

• Language: English
• Publisher: Terry W. Manning
• Release date: Dec 2, 2013
• ISBN: 9781310617195

Terry W. Manning

I am a retired/disabled American who has always read just about anything I could get my hands on.I live in the South in Kingsport, TN where you will find the Blue Ridge Mountains to the south and the Appalachian Mountians to the North. Beautiful Country with the Smoky Mountains only 90 minutes away! I have been married to my lovely wife for 35 years, with two sons and six grandchildren. Now I expand that passion by attempting to write books about things that interest me and hope will interest other readers! JD Nixon and Steven King have been two of my biggest inspirations as authors to make my attempt at writing. I hope you enjoy my books as well as I enjoy writing them!

Book preview

Introduction

Standing in the street of Dry Run, Wyoming was three individuals, two who were intent on killing the one, carrying guns and enough hate for 10 gunfights. This fight was a long time in coming, a fight had been building for over one hundred and fifty years, and cooler heads or the law could no longer prevent it from playing out!

My name is Trece Fallon. My family owns the largest ranch in Wyoming and has for over 150 years.

Today is a day of reckoning that had been building since my, great, great, great grandfather Jedediah Fallon first came to Wyoming back in 1860.

It was a hot, sweltering day in the streets of Dry Run, Wyoming. On a day such as this, most people would be inside, soaking up the coolness of hard running air conditioning systems. This day in Dry Run, the good town folk were on the sidewalks, watching the scene that was unfolding before them.

Our town was like all western towns in the 21st Century. There were plenty of stories of gunfights in its history, with murders, lynching and hangings. The type of events that feed the rich lore that made multitudes of television shows and movies. Dime novels made events like quick-draw gunfights, done either at noon, outside a saloon or at dawn, a thing that fed the minds of the world and the country.

Children grew up with their wooden guns, walking towards each other, waiting for the other to draw their guns. Then the sounds of the children yelling, Bang-bang and then playfully falling dead in the street.

We have the exaggerated tales of gunfights with the fastest on the draw killing his opponent. It was mostly the ignorant by-stander, thinking they had a great view of what was about to transpire, being the one shot and ending up in the local cemetery! That left the two gunfighters fighting to be the first one to draw back the hammers on their pistols to fire the second shot!

Dry Run, Wyoming was no different. The extraordinary difference from most western towns, was its lore based upon the my family protecting Dry Run and our Native American friends from one particular bad element that had infested the area with a bullish, overbearing attitude, bent on any criminal activity from rustling to gang style enforcers.

Today appeared to be another day for the history books. However, I am getting ahead of myself. Let me take you back to when the bad blood and hostilities began…!

Chapter 1

It all started when my great, great, great, great grandfather, Jedediah Fallon came to Wyoming when it was still open land, teeming with wildlife and Plains Native American Indian Tribes. It was so beautiful, not yet spoiled by the influence and greed of white men. Wyoming is a Delaware word meaning ‘mountains and valley alternating’. To Jedediah Fallon, it was God’s Heaven on earth! He had started traveling as soon as he landed in the Americas, looking to stay away from the towns and city folk that had started springing up around the coastal areas.

He yearned for a wide-open country where men would love it and protect it from being spoiled and there was land for a man to grow, and farm, or ranch or both. Jedediah was a dreamer, but he did not just dream, he worked hard to make his dreams come true! Hard work is how everything became an accomplishment, and any man willing to put in that hard work would find himself a king of his own land and prosper.

In 1857, Jedediah left his home in Foxford, Ireland, traveled the Atlantic, and finally arrived in the port of New York. He quickly realized that he needed to travel west to escape the noise, filth, and misery that port cities offered.

The criminal element was everywhere! Jedediah was always on guard in case they decided to target him! He could never understand why the crowds of people, would want to endure being compressed into sweltering heat, odor, as well as the living conditions they endured in the cities.

Trash was in the streets, rotting, with rats everywhere! Disease, sickness, and poverty were not what Jedediah wanted to see or have to live in every day. It seemed the only escape the people had was at local bars. This is not what Jedediah traveled all the miles to live in. He was heading west!

Jedediah had left his home in Ireland to find a new life. His father was a hard worker. He was also a very frugal man when it came to money, known as a slick trader, who knew how to make a profit. Though his father did not allow them to live like kings, they did not lack of the essentials.

Jedediah had a younger sister who died of lung complications when she was five and a brother who died shortly after birth. The birth of his brother had been very hard on his mother who died days later. It left only him and his father to work their place and land. Though Jedediah missed his mother and little sister, he would not trade the life he had with his father. The family business kept him and his father busy, but working with his father was some of the fondest memories of his life. His father traded in horses, was a very good blacksmith as well as sold sheep and wool.

His father had passed all of his skills and knowledge down to his son. When his father would visit the local pub, even though he was a child, he brought Jedediah with him. He encouraged Jedediah to watch and listen to the men to learn how to read people. On the walk home from the pub, Jedediah’s father would ask him to repeat what he heard or watched and what he had learned from the experience.

Jedediah would pose questions to his father about different conversations he heard and asked his father how to determine who was telling the truth, or he heard a deal two men brokered, and how if handled differently, which man could have made a greater profit.

His father had him involved in any deal made, so his son would hear the words of the deal and then would explain his thoughts and how he was able to bring the best of the deal to him, creating a greater profit. By the time Jedediah was eighteen, he was as sharp a trader as his father was, and had learned to be a very handy apprentice to his father as a blacksmith.

Jedediah admired his father. He was an educated man and strove hard to see that Jedediah was educated, teaching him to speak the King’s English, and to make him as educated man as he could. They were as close as father and son could be. However, as with all things, fate would not allow him to have his father much longer. His father died, just after Jedediah turned twenty-two.

When his father realized his days were numbered, he took his son aside and showed him a corner of his father’s bedroom. His father pointed at a stone in the floor, which his father pried loose. He uncovered a hole in the ground where he saw a large wooden box. His father pulled the box out and set it on a table, hurrying because of its weight. Before he opened the box, he looked at Jedediah and said, "I have saved all my life to give you an opportunity to do what I never did; travel to take the good name of Fallon and make it count for something there as well! The contents of this box will allow you to do just that. Follow your dreams, Jedediah!

His father opened the box and it appeared that his father had found a king’s ransom of gold and silver coins! Father, I have heard of the New World in the Americas. That is where I will go to carve out a new life!

If that is what you choose son, do the Fallon’s proud. Teach your sons what I have taught you so they can make a name for themselves.

A few days after his father’s funeral, Jedediah made it known that all lands the Fallons owned, as well as buildings and livestock were to be sold. One of the addendums that new owners entered into, as well as any owners in the future of the Fallon land, was that the cemetery remained trimmed and flowers planted, also replacing of the headstones before the weathering removed the name of Fallon from Foxford forever! Jedediah created a trust to guarantee the upkeep.

When Jedediah purchased his ticket on the ship he chose, he purchased one that that made him appear poor. He had to protect his wealth, even if that meant suffering through an uncomfortable and noisy trip to his new world.

Once he landed in New York, Jedediah went to the better part of the city looking for a bank, to exchange his Irish wealth into gold coins that would be accepted anywhere in America. Once in the bank, Jedediah explained what he wanted to do with the bank manager. When the manager saw what Jedediah had, Jedediah swore him to secrecy. His wealth totaled out to over fifty thousand dollars. When the banker asked Jedediah what he intended to do, Jedediah explained his dream and vision for his future. The banker suggested that Jedediah take five thousand with him, and he could have the remaining money delivered once he had settled where he intended to live. Jedediah chose, instead, to take ten thousand with him, and a letter of credit for the remaining forty thousand.

While still in New York, Jedediah went to the land office, asked the man that worked there what lands still had not been settled. The man from the land office said that the west was opening up to those who dared to confront the elements, thieves, and the Indians. Jedediah saw on the map a great land that was northwest.

What is that? Asked Jedediah.

Son, that area is loaded with Indians! The land office manager told him.

Aren’t Indians people as well? Asked Jedediah.

You’ve got a lot to learn, boy! What’s your name son? Asked the man from the land office.

My name is Jedediah Fallon, why?

I needed to know the name of the dang fool who would go there!

What is the name of the land that I am looking at? Jedediah inquired, tiring of the man’s insolent manner, and evasiveness to straight questioning.

"That land, my young friend, is Wyoming and it’s wide open for settlement. If you can handle the elements and Indians, and it’s all yours for the taking!

Do you have an extra map that I might purchase? Jedediah asked. The land office man sold him an older map.

Jedediah maintained a rough look about him, clothing himself in older, patched clothing, so no one would dare think that such a vagabond would be carrying a large wealth of gold and silver. Jedediah had already heard stories of road agents, bandits, as well as Indians, attacking travelers. There were rough men and thieves enough in New York and he was devising a plan on how he would travel to this area called ‘Wyoming’ and take every precaution he could to make it there safely.

Each day, Jedediah would carefully make purchases, at different locations, so as not to arouse suspicion of the wealth he carried with him. One day, he bought a horse, the next a pack mule. Once he had bought all his supplies, he ended up with two horses and three pack mules. He purchased supplies that would last him about four months, hoping to find posts along the way, should he need to purchase more supplies.

Some of the items he bought in quantities were a dozen Sharps .52 caliber rifles with two thousand round of ammunition, Colt Navy Pistols as well as a well-oiled holster with extra cylinder loops and extra cylinders for each pistol.

Jedediah purchased cloth for patch wads, powder and lead balls as well as a lead ball kit, and plenty of lead bars. He bought an assortment of large hunting and skinning knives and honing stones. He purchased extra boots and clothing; including coats that, would he hoped would last him until he either found clothes of hides to make more.

Jedediah arrived in New York during the springtime. He realized to travel the distance to Wyoming, would mean that he still may have to winter short of his destination, finishing his journey the next spring.

Jedediah mapped his way to start his trip, deciding to see some of the rest of the country on his way. He knew that he would never see this country again in his lifetime, so a small deviation to his trip would in no sway his goal to travel to the country he just had to see: Wyoming. He decided he would follow a journey through Delaware, Maryland, Virginia and on into Tennessee. His best estimate was that he would winter in Tennessee and then begin his trek to Wyoming in the spring.

With all of the problems, travelers being killed and robbed; he decided to blaze his own trail by using his map, compass, and the stars to guide him. When he cooked his breakfast, he would cook enough meat for his evening meal, not chancing a fire at night as long as he could stay warm without one.

Two days before he started his journey, Jedediah started watching, being wary that he may have brought attention to himself because of the purchases he made, and in the amounts. That proved advantageous to him. He found that wherever he moved, the same two men appeared as well. After moving the fourth time, the same two men followed him, trying to be inconspicuous. Jedediah knew he had attracted attention and would have to deal with them or have these men come into his camp to kill him ending his dream before it could begin.

He started his journey, riding one of his horses. He had tied a pack horse and pack mules together so they trailed him. Jedediah made good time at first, because of the road being heavy with horse, wagon, and buggy traffic. Two days into his trip, Jedediah, took his team off the road and started traveling through the trees and open meadows. He would travel until the western sky started turning gray. He would try to find a stream to make camp by, to replenish his water supply and allow his animals to feed on the lush grasses that were plentiful. He would tie his animals to a picket line, and made rollout his bedroll and sleep where he was as hidden as possible.

Jedediah knew he was being followed. The men were amateurs. When Jedediah brought his animals to a stop, he would tie them off and backtrack by foot, and sure enough, he would hear their horses as they stepped on the underbrush in the woods and then men talking in low tones. They did not know it, but they were about to face hell on earth!

This night, Jedediah, did not make a fire, rather chose keep his camp dark. He set up his bedroll to appear as if he were in there sleeping and faded back into the dark woods, crouching low, waiting for them. Without the moon, it would be next to impossible for the men to spot him.

He would not use a gun or rifle, as he did not want to alert anyone else to his presence and the fight that was occurring. Jedediah’s preparation and patience was soon to be rewarded! Even with the night sound of bullfrogs, crickets and owls, Jedediah heard a twig snap to his left and another to his right. No squeamish person could handle death, whether it is yours or another’s. Jedediah had never killed a man. These two men, he realized, would force him to do whatever it took to survive.

Jedediah, who had kept his eyes closed for a short period to allow his night vision to open and sharpen, saw both men appear at the edge of his camp. The men had chosen knives as well! Jedediah held his breath as they came up to where they thought was Jedediah sleeping and savagely attacked his bedroll. By the time they realized their mistake, Jedediah was on them. He quietly stepped up behind the first man, grabbed his chin, jerking up the man’s head and sliced his throat open.

The second man hearing a commotion, tried to turn and run, but Jedediah quickly closed the distance, tripping the man. He landed hard on him and had his knife through the man’s heart before he could cry out. Both of his attackers died a quick and quiet death! It all began in silence and ended as it began! What seemed to last forever, passed quickly from the time he saw the men until it was over!

Jedediah sadly started the process of burying the bodies of his would be killers. He found a spot where you would have to walk around a lot of brush, to get to them and buried them in as deep a grave as he could dig along with his bloody clothing, and then covering the graves with underbrush to make sure no one could ever find them and connect their deaths to him. He then went over to the creek and washed off the blood that covered him.

He felt nausea washing over him as the realization hit him that he had taken two lives tonight! Jedediah did not travel to America to become a killer! Still, there were plenty of men intent on evil and these two would probably not be his last. He did not question his decision on coming to America. Jedediah only questioned if he was mentally and physically ready to tackle what this new, and beautiful land would throw at him!

He lay there looking at a cloudy, starless sky for a long time, listening intently to every insect sound, animal, and noise to start teaching his mind what he should know as normal, so he