Dream Car

By Tony Spencer

After her father's funeral, Caroline sits in his "Dream Car" a classic wreck that has sat rusting in his front garden for over 30 years. Recently impoverished by divorce and disappointed by her family and friends, she sees her father's stetson hat resting on the passenger seat, a hangover from his Wild West Re-enactment Society days before he lost his wife and suffered a crippling stroke. Recalling pleasant memories of days spent playing "Cowboys", she dons the hat and closes her eyes ... suddenly, she is transported to the Wild West, her Stagecoach under attack by Injuns! Her father's Dream Car is a portal into a fantasy western world of cowboys, injuns and a handsome frontier town marshal....
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• Language: English
• Publisher: Tony Spencer
• Release date: May 30, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311131874

Tony Spencer

Have published 34 books since 1998, one out of print, 22 available on Smashwords, 6 on Wattpad and 5 on Amazon. I started writing fiction in 2012. I brought out a glut of little books as soon as I realised self publishing was an option, but now I am settling down to produce one novel and a collection of other stories each year. A grandfather of three angels, happily married for 42 years to another angel, living in Hampshire, England, about 35 miles west of London. I had worked for over 40 years as a printer and proofreader but retired in 2015 and hoping to spend more time writing. Also an editor of a community magazine, football programmes and have written weekly sports reports now for almost 20 years in local newspapers. Now concentrating on romantic fiction, mostly short stories, with occasional novellas and novels. Proud to be a member of the KCEditions independent publishing house of Canada.

Book preview

Dream Car

Tony Spencer

Dream

Car

A Fantasy Western

by

Tony Spencer

at Smashwords

Copyright © 2016 Tony Spencer

Cover photo © 2016 Sergey Novikov, licensed by Shutterstock, image ID: 347669729

Cover inset © 2016 Tony Spencer

Cover design by Tony Spencer

Electronic edition published 2016 by KCEditions, Parry Sound, Ontario, Canada at Smashwords

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely unintentional.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 1

Caroline Bagshaw rested her head on the leather-covered steering wheel and wept. Her dream life was apparently so perfect two years previously, with a loving husband and two successful children. Now she was alone, and dealing with the funeral of Pop, her beloved father.

The wrong side of fifty, she had been betrayed by her faithless husband and disappointed in her two boys, who saw nothing wrong in what their father had done. In fact they followed his example; with both their marriages wrecked on the rocks of serial infidelity.

Caroline discovered that her wealthy husband had affairs with many of her so-called friends, who covered for him as he worked his way through them. They were very much HIS friends not hers.

Now, barely a year after the divorce, her father, Samuel Jed Pinner, had passed away the week before and now the funeral was over. All the guests had departed, leaving her alone in his cold, dark house, with his old car parked in the front garden, surrounded by a dark laurel hedge that hadn’t been trimmed in years.

Her eldest son, Adam, was curt. You’re clearing Pop’s house after the funeral, Mum, at least you could’ve dumped this old wreck before the guests came back to the house.

That ‘old wreck’ you are talking about, was your grandfather’s dream car. Just before your grandma passed away when you were little, she spent every penny she’d scrimped and saved to buy this secondhand Jaguar XJ12. A lot of love was poured into that car from them both.

Yeah, but he never even drove it, Mum! Adam scoffed, This car’s a joke!

Adam’s younger brother Robert Junior joined in the laughter, I know a guy with a low-loader who could’ve cleared this eyesore away in a trice.

Their grandfather suffered a stroke when his wife died and was left paralysed down one side. Tragically, he never drove the car, a gift she had arranged virtually on her death bed. He was so proud of that car that he could never part with it. Caroline was ashamed at the callous attitude of both her offspring.

That’s why, after all her grandfather’s friends from the Wakefield & District Cowboy Re-enactment Society left, that Caroline sat quietly in her father’s dream car once more before finally shutting the house up.

The car’s original colour had once been a deep maroon, the paint now dull and faded; rust showed through the wings and door panels and all four tyres were flat to the ground. That car was going nowhere, and hadn’t been for more than thirty years.

Caroline unlocked the driver’s side door, which opened on surprisingly well-greased hinges. The internal courtesy light failed to come on, of course, the battery must’ve gone flat years before. She slid into the front seat, smelling of freshly polished leather. Despite the wreck it looked, inside the polished walnut and tan hide leather inlay shone fresh and dust free. Beside her, on the passenger seat, was her father’s old Stetson. She smiled, fingering the soft leather hat, recalling her parents’ love of line dancing and dressing up in Western-style clothing; how her father engaged in quick-draw contests with his Wild West enthusiast friends that she knew as faintly ridiculous, but dear sweet uncles and aunts, as a small girl.

She cried at all those memories, rested her forehead on the steering wheel and closed her eyes.

Next thing she knew, the car seat was bucking, throwing Caroline around wildly. She opened her eyes.

Don’t you cry, now Ma’am, them pesky injuns’ll scatter once our lead flies among ’em! yelled a large, sweating, bald-headed man sitting in a seat opposite to her. She was in a stagecoach! He pulled out a six-gun that had been tucked in his straining leather belt, and pointed his weapon out of the open stagecoach window. We’re only a spit away from Sweetwater Valley. We’ll be safe there, Ma’am, don’t ya worry yer pretty head about that!

The noise from the gun was deafening, and the stagecoach filled with acrid smoke. The motion of the coach was wild, like driving over a dried-up river in a four-poster bed. Other gunshots could be heard above her, outside the carriage, and a feathered arrow thwacked into the back of the empty seat opposite her. Caroline’s corpulent companion fired off round after deafening round, his unshaven purple face set in a determined grimace.

Suddenly there was a distant fusillade of shots, then another volley, followed by a ragged number of random shots.

Them varmints is a-running! yelled the large man in triumph, slapping his thigh with his free hand, Looks like a posse from town have rid out tah greet us.

He beamed at Caroline and stuck out a large horny hand, Forgive me mah manners, Ma’am, but yah wus fast asleep when Ah climbed aboard at Carson. The driver said ya’d come all the ways from Back East and wus plum tuckered out, so Ah never disturbed yah ’til that war party welcomed us into the territ’ry. Mah name’s Judge Justice Makepeace — yeah, Ah know, mah Pappy was also a hangin’ judge afore me an’ Ah guess he had a weird sense o’humor!

Pleased to meet you, Judge, I’m— Caroline was almost tumbled out of her seat as the stagecoach shuddered to a halt, the man caught her hand and held on, wrapping her in his other arm and whipping her safely into the seat next to him.

The whole territ’ry knows who you is Ma’am. An’ Ah kin tell from the softness of yar hand that ya’re a lady of some quality, worthy of respect, like ya Pa wus before ya, the Judge winked as he held her in his arms, the coach still rocking on its springs, Ah’m on mah way now to hang the three gunmen what shot down yah Pa in cold blood.

When Caroline’s eyebrow’s shot up in surprise at this development, the Judge added, scratching his grey whiskers, Oh! There’ll be a proper trial, mind, Ma’am, Ah’ll hold court till Ah’ve smoked a four-inch cee-gar all the way down ta the butt, afore Ah hangs the lot of ’em. Folk cain’t say fairer than that!

He threw open the carriage door and squeezed his bulk through, turning to hand Caroline down to the dusty Main Street. All the wooden buildings were bleached white in the blinding noon sunshine, and the heat hit her like a solid wall.

Looking down at her feet, she saw her sensible-heeled shoes, that she wore for the funeral, had somehow become calf-hugging leather boots and her sombre knee-length skirt had transformed into a black ankle-length silk dress, with a figure-hugging bodice, pearl-buttoned up to the neck. Somehow, the thirty pounds of comfort eating that she’d put on since the divorce, had magically disappeared.

The coach was surrounded by tall, grinning men, all sporting a variety of still-smoking guns, some still holding the reins of their steaming horses. The tallest of them stepped forward, removing his tall hat. He was a handsome young man with long, shoulder-length black hair. Under the bushiest moustache Caroline had ever seen, his blinding white teeth stood out from his deeply-tanned face. He wore a white silk shirt with a neatly-knotted string necktie. His long black coat was speckled with the red dust which hung in the air. A silver star gleamed from his coat lapel, as did the pair of pearl-handled revolvers stuffed into leather belted holsters pinched about his narrow waist. He held out his enormous hand.

Ah’m Marshal Tom Denton, Ma’am. Yah late father said yah’ll’d be the prettiest widder in the territ’ry an’, upon mah word, Ah never heard him swear the more honest truth.

As his warm, hard, dry hand engulfed her tiny damp one, Caroline was speechless, conscious that she might’ve fluttered her eyelids, feeling faint. Before she knew what was happening, the Marshal swept her up in his arms as if she was nothing but a duckdown pillow. She rested her head on his broad shoulder.

Forgive mah manners, Miss Bagshawh, yah father always kept a set o’ rooms here at the Sweetwater Grand Hotel, where yah trunks that arrived by the noon stage yesterday ha’ bin stowed.

Sorry, Marshal, I was overcome there for a moment—

Perfectly understandable, Ma’am, yah maid Alice came up from yah late Pa’s Lazy-C Ranch this mornin’ and is presently in yah rooms drawin’ a hot bath fer yah.

Alice?

She’s mah niece, mah Sister’s youngist. She’s on’y 14, but she’s smart as paint for a’ that. Mah Sis thought it’d be good to have a maid that wus closer to yah own age.

Why, how old do you think I am, Marshal? Caroline asked coyly, recovering her senses in this bewildering dreamworld.

The Marshal dropped his voice, Why, Ah have it on high authority that yah’re least five years younger than Ah am, an’ Ah’m 30 next month. Yah father did say yorn husband was a beast an’ yah well shot o’ him. Ah fer one don’t think yah should be holden to wear them widder’s weeds on his account any longer, an’ yah father said yah’d brighten up our town no end. Ah ain’t about to argue with anyone on that point, if yah beg mah pardon agin, fer bein’ fo’ard, Ma’am.

No offence taken, Marshal, Caroline smiled, I think I should be able to walk now.

We’re here, he laughed, The noon stage al’ays stops by the Grand Hotel. At least allow me the pleasure to convey yah up to yah rooms.

All right, Marshal. It was all Caroline could do to refrain from giggling like the little girl she suddenly felt.

Alice was a pretty bright and attentive girl, who helped Caroline out of the complicated layers of clothing that she had magically acquired between the seat of that rotting motorcar and the wooden slats of the stagecoach, and into her hot bath, all the while chattering away about the town, her handsome uncle Marshal and the newly arrived Dentist who, according to Alice, was another dish served in heaven. After her bath, Caroline was tucked comfortably onto the chaise longue and, fatigued by all the excitement, was soon fast asleep.

Caroline woke with a start, sitting in that old Jaguar. She shook the sleep from her head as she stepped from the car and slammed the door, which closed with a near silent click. What a strange and vivid dream! She was about to walk back to the house when a smile spread across her face, the first smile that she could remember wearing in a long while.

She spun on her heels, pulled the car door open and slid back inside....

***

Why, Miss Caroline, Ah declare yo’ ain’t slept more’n a coupla hours, are yo’ sure yo’re rested enough after yo’ journey? Especially after the shock of that Injun attack.

I’m fine, Alice, it’s just that I’d like to get a look at my Daddy’s ranch, as soon as possible, how far away is it?

Over an hour’s ride, ma’am, but Ah’d need to rustle up the ranch gig, a driver and a coupla outriders, and we on’y have a coupla hours afore nightfall, so there’d be no time fer us to get back into town.

Could we not stay there the night? How comfortable is the ranch?

Why, it’s the grandest ranch house in the whole county, ma’am, an’ young Samuel helped me get yo’ set o’ rooms there ready for yo’ arrival, soon as we heard ya wus acomin’.

Young Samuel? Caroline asked, her eyebrows raised, her