Vengeance Takes a Stand (The Texas Riders Western #4) (A Western Frontier Fiction): The Texas Riders, #4

By Joseph Powell

There's a fine line between justice and revenge.

Sometimes a cowboy needs to take both.

Corny Oliver is a wealthy banker with a dark past…

He used to drink.

He used to gamble.

He used to womanize.

But … he's guilty of an even worse crime…

He's spent his life trying to make up for one wrong.

And just when he thinks he has, evil finds him.

Vincent Green likes money, and he's willing to do anything to get it.

Even kill.

He knows Corny's dark history.

And if Corny doesn't give him what he wants, he'll tell everyone.

Including the woman Corny's been courting.

Corny can either fight for justice or run away.

And he chooses war.

But Vincent's wicked mind refuses to fight any way except dirty.

The lives of women and children mean nothing to him if they get in his way.

He wants everything Corny's got…

His money.

His woman.

And even his life.

He won't stop until he's got it all.

Corny must stop Vincent before he destroys everything he's worked so hard for.

But are bullets enough to stop the Devil himself?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joseph Powell
• Release date: Feb 16, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393103011

Joseph Powell

Joseph Powell is the author of Last Stand at Rock Springs.  He is a classic western writer and his stories always happened at the real place with a fictional eye. He lives in Kansas City with his wife and two children.

Book preview

prologue

* * *

Buzzard’s Stone, Texas,

Spring 1868

Cornelius Oliver stumbled drunkenly down the street. It was dark, well after supper. Buzzard’s Stone always turned dead about this time of night. In a town with less than five hundred people living in it, there wasn’t a lot of action.

Corny and his pals had only been here a week. They liked to move around, especially when they couldn’t pay their bills. Hotel owners all across Texas would probably have loved to get their hands on them.

The buildings they passed were all single-story, made from dried-up wood, and falling apart. They hadn’t been put together very well. The saloon they’d just left had a crooked floor. It didn’t lie flat; it slanted.

The hotel where they were holed up was similar, except it was the walls that were crooked. It looked like someone had put the place together blindfolded. The beds were also hard as rocks, and the windows couldn’t keep a strong breeze out, let alone rain.

In Corny’s mind, it was only fair they didn’t have to pay for a room like that. If the hotel had been nicer, then he wouldn’t mind so much, but this place they were headed back to now was nothing but an oversized outhouse. Maybe one day he’d actually get to stay in a nice place, and then he could see what it felt like to be living like the rich folks.

His feet tripped over each other, and he almost fell flat on his face. Corny was not yet seeing double but another drink or two in him and he would be. That was fine with him, so long as the whiskey was good, and he didn’t have to pay for it. There was nothing worse than paying for bad whiskey.

Vincent Green and his brother Willis were stumbling right along behind him. Gus was just up ahead, lying on his side in the dirt. He rolled over when Cornelius got closer and let out a long, drunken laugh. Hey, Corny, how’s about you help a pal up?

Corny reached out one hand and helped Gus up off the ground. They stumbled together for a moment, Corny’s curly brown hair falling into his eyes and momentarily blinding him, but they managed to regain their balance.

Vincent clapped one hand on Corny’s back; he was more sober than the rest of them but there was a devilish look in his eye that Corny knew well.

Let’s go have some fun, Vincent said.

Corny knew what that meant—gambling and girls. He was up for that. It was still too early to go to bed. There was just one problem though, he’d gotten wiped out at the poker tables last night and had no money left.

The liquor moving through him right now came courtesy of one of Vincent’s friends, a saloonkeeper who owed Vincent a good deal of money.

I can’t afford any girls tonight, said Corny.

Gus and Willis stopped walking and turned to them. We could rob somebody, then we’d all get us some money, Gus said.

Corny’s back stiffened. He looked at his friend to see if he was serious. Drinking and gambling were one thing, but robbing someone was another thing entirely. Corny didn’t want money bad enough to do something like that. He was relieved when Vincent shook his head, dismissing the idea.

Nah, we don’t need to rob anyone to get us some girls. There’s plenty who’ll sweet talk a man for free.

Corny made a sour face. The types of girls Vincent were talking about were usually drunks themselves and no good. They’d do anything for a free drink. Corny didn’t hold that against them—he was certainly no better—but one day he’d like a real girl. A woman with good morals and a pretty face who wasn’t overdone with powder and rouge like most of the girls he knew.

A slender woman with brown hair pulled into one long braid came walking by. She was holding a small bag in one hand and looked nervous. She eyed them wearily and quickened her pace.

Vincent set his eyes on her and let out a loud whistle. Hey, there, pretty lady. Can we buy you a drink?

Gus and Willis laughed. Corny joined in with them. The four of them moved to follow her. Hi, there, can we walk you home? Gus asked, running up along beside her. Her blue eyes widened. She stared straight ahead, trying her best to ignore him.

What’s the matter? Corny asked. You don’t want to talk to us? He snickered with the others.

Willis jumped in front of her, blocking her path. She stopped moving. My brother and my friends and I are being real nice to you. Why won’t you be nice to us?

Her face flushed. Please let me pass. I’m in a hurry.

Willis moved his eyes up and down her body, and her cheeks colored. She took a step back from him and bumped into Vincent, who’d come up behind her. He touched her shoulder, and she jumped nervously. Her eyes weren’t just wide now; they were scared.

Corny felt bad. He hadn’t meant to scare her, just tease her a little. He and his friends had gone too far. All right, boys, we’re through here. Let her pass.

But Vincent and the others didn’t move. Corny began to get nervous now. The woman was slowly trying to sidestep them, but Willis’ hand reached out and caught hold of her waist, wrapping his hand around her. She cried out.

Willis, Corny snapped, getting irritated. Couldn’t they tell enough was enough? I said we’re through here. Let the girl go.

Willis shot him an annoyed look. If you don’t want to take your turn with her, you don’t have to, but don’t ruin our fun. His hand moved from the woman’s waist to her chest, getting a good feel of her curves. She spun away from him and tried to run, dropping her bag. Vincent grabbed a hold of her hair and pulled her back. She let out a shriek.

If it hadn’t been so late, someone would probably have heard her and come running, but there was no one on the streets right now. At least, no one who would care enough to do something.

Corny hurried over and grabbed Vincent by the back of his shirt, pulling him off the girl.

Vincent spun around and gave Corny the meanest look he’d ever seen on his friend. What the hell do you think you’re doing?

Corny narrowed his eyes. Funny, I had the same question for you.

The woman, who was no fool, took off running while Vincent was distracted. Gus and Willis hesitated a moment then ran after her.

Vincent glared at Corny. His thick black mustache and matching hair made him look sinister. Corny had never thought that before, but now it was obvious to him. Just stay out of our way. Vincent took off after Gus and Willis.

Corny stood frozen a moment. He’d known Vincent for the last couple of years and considered him a pretty good friend. Vincent and the others got up to mischief sometimes, but he’d never thought any of them would actually hurt a woman. Cheat at gambling, sure. Skip out on their hotel bill, yep. But those were things Corny was guilty of as well. This... this was different.

Up ahead, the woman screamed, long and ear-piercing. Corny’s heart gave an unsteady beat, and then he took off toward her. There was a gun on his hip, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d fired it. He didn’t care much for guns, though he’d always been a pretty good shot.

He drew it now, a Colt Paterson revolver he’d won a few years back in a poker game. It was one of the few times Corny had won instead of lost. He’d held onto the gun all these years instead of pawning it as a result, thinking maybe it brought him good luck. He hoped it would tonight.

The .36 caliber single action felt good in his hand. Its grip was smooth and fine, and the starlight glinted off its blue barrel. Last time he’d loaded it, he’d thought the bore was still in good condition, even though he didn’t clean it as much as he should.

The woman let out another scream, and Corny squinted into the darkness. There were a few houses scattered up ahead. She was running into one of them. Vincent was still on her heels. Gus and Willis had fallen behind but were on the verge of catching up.

Corny fired one shot straight up into the air and was impressed with the action. He was afraid the trigger would be stiff, but it moved easily under his touch. Vincent and the others stopped and turned to look at him.

Willis looked mad, ready to kill. Gus just looked confused. Vincent’s look bothered him most. He wasn’t just angry; he actually looked crazed. He plucked his own gun off his holster and fired it straight at Corny, no warning shot or anything.

Corny fell flat on his stomach and narrowly avoided the bullet. Willis and Gus didn’t seem to know what to do.

Corny yelled out to them, Stop acting like a couple of yacks and leave the girl be.

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. Vincent was never a man who liked to be told what to do. He got an evil smile on his lips that made Corny’s stomach burn, then he opened the door and followed the girl into her home. She either hadn’t locked it behind her, or they didn’t have a lock.

Gus and Willis went in after him. Corny had never been much of a fighter. He drank plenty and gambled most every night, but aside from the occasional brawl, he didn’t like to stick his neck out for people and get himself into trouble. The woman screamed from inside the house, and he heard a baby let out a long, loud wail.

Shoot, Corny muttered and ran inside.

It was a small house, which was a good thing because it made it easy to find them. There was a crib in one corner of the living area, which connected to the small kitchen. A back hallway led to two bedrooms, both with their doors shut.

Vincent had the woman pinned up against a wall and was feeling her up. An oil lamp on a small table lit up her face and highlighted her fear. Gus and Willis were standing off to the side, waiting for their turn.

Corny didn’t want to fire his gun and scare the baby or whoever else might be sleeping in those bedrooms. Plus, he wasn’t confident enough in his aim to think he’d hit Vincent and not the woman herself. So, he ran at Vincent and grabbed him from behind, wrapping one arm around his neck.

They struggled with each other and knocked against the table with the lamp. It fell to the ground and shattered. Flames spread out on the floor, catching the edge of the sofa.

A man’s weakened voice called out from the back room. Grace? Is that you? He started coughing violently, not from the smoke that was only just starting to form but from some illness that had him in its grips.

Charles! Run! Grace shouted, but Charles either did not hear her or was too sick to move.

Vincent punched Corny in the nose, causing blood to spurt out and run down his shirt. It sent a spike of pain into Corny’s head, and he staggered back. Vincent turned to the woman then, but she grabbed a candlestick and threw it at him.

It bounced off Vincent’s head and left a deep gash in his forehead. He slapped the woman hard across the face, causing her to fall. The back of her head hit the edge of the table, and she stopped moving.

The flames were growing, and the smoke was getting thick. Vincent looked around and ran. Willis and Gus ran with him.

Corny started to go after them, already drawing his gun. This time, he would not hesitate to fire. But the flames were spreading fast. They’d caught hold of the curtains. Grace wasn’t moving, and the baby was crying. Corny couldn’t just leave them there.

A little girl, no more than four, came out of the back bedroom, sucking her thumb. She looked around and started to cry. Mommmyyy!

Corny grabbed her and ran out of the house with her. He set her down on the grass and looked around at the neighbors’ houses. There was one pretty close by. I want you to run over there and knock on their door until they open. Do you understand?

Whether she did or not, the little girl didn’t say. She just took off. Corny ran back into the house and looked at the unconscious woman and the crib. A man’s coat hung off a hook near the kitchen. He grabbed it and the baby and ran out of the house.

Corny had never held a baby before. He cradled it gently in his arms, hoping he was doing it the right way. With the baby in one hand, he used his other to create a sort of nest for the child out of the coat, then laid it gently down inside it.

When he went back in, he was amazed to see how quickly everything was going up. He could hardly see for the smoke now, and the heat made his forehead sweat. The woman groaned when he picked her up and carried her outside. Her eyes fluttered open but didn’t stay that way. Neighbors were running toward them now.

There’s still someone in there, Corny shouted to them and turned to go back for the man he’d heard call out earlier.

When he got to the doors though, the flames made it impossible for him to pass through. He went around to a window and tried to get in that way, but as soon as he stuck his head through, he inhaled a lungful of smoke and started to choke.

A hand clamped down on his shoulder and pulled him back. One of the neighbors, a large man with a thick neck, was staring at him. You’ve done all you can.

But had he? Corny looked at the flames and the smoke and knew the man inside was probably already dead. Guilt pressed on his heart like never before. This was his fault.

He should have acted sooner to stop Vincent. He should never have let them start in on Grace in the first place. A man had died tonight, and Corny was to blame. He did the only thing he could—he ran.

* * *

chapter  0 1 ✪

* * *

Two Years Later...

Thunder Hill, Texas, Spring

Corny walked slowly through the center of town, his hands in his pockets. Thunder Hill was a nice little place that had recently been through a rough patch.

The buildings looked the worse for it—there were bullet holes everywhere. Doors, windows, walls... The entire town looked like it had been under heavy fire. The townspeople weren’t bothered by it though. In fact, they were proud they’d survived so much and come out of it still breathing.

He was rather proud of them, too. Not just the townspeople but of himself and his friends for helping the town defend itself against the madmen who’d tried to take it down. The wedding that had taken place a few days ago seemed to him a fitting way to end everything.

His good friend Sheriff Rex Wallace had married Stella Hope, bringing a new joy to the entire town. A breath of fresh air that was sorely needed after everything that had happened.

It wasn’t air that Corny needed now though; it was advice and a steady nerve. Only he had no one to ask advice of, and his nerves were as steady as they could get. The newspaper he’d seen this morning had gotten him all jumbled up inside.

It wasn’t the main headline, which belonged to Thunder Hill and the recent defeat of Otis Younger and his gang. But buried in the back was another, far more disturbing headline. Killers Escape Sheriff.

It was the description of the men in the article that bothered him. Gus, Willis, and Vincent seemed to have grown their number since Corny had parted ways with them.

From what the papers said, there were somewhere between eight and twelve men they regularly rode with, pulling bank jobs, robbing general stores, hurting people whenever they could. This time, they’d killed a child.

No one knew their names, but the sketch they’d posted of Vincent was enough to convince him. It wasn’t a perfect match by any stretch of the imagination, but there was a scar on his forehead right where Grace had hit him with the candlestick holder, and the sketch artist had perfectly captured that devilish glint Vincent used to get in his eyes when he was up to no good.

It wasn’t the first time Corny had seen Vincent’s face in the paper. The sketch had started circulating several months ago, and Corny hadn’t been able to get it out of his mind since then. Mollie kept asking him what was wrong, but he’d promised himself long ago that he’d take his secrets with him to his grave.

Mollie Wallace. He let out a heavy sigh, wondering not for the first time what he should do about her. He’d never loved a woman so much, and until he’d seen the first sketch of Vincent in the paper, he’d meant to marry her. After that though, he’d known he couldn’t.

He didn’t deserve a woman like Mollie. She deserved a prince, a king, at the very least a man without so much darkness weighing on his shoulders. He’d wanted to break things off with her entirely, but he was selfish and couldn’t do it. He loved her too much to never see her again. So instead, he skirted around the subject of marriage and avoided any questions she asked him about his past.

Everyone knew that Corny used to be a drunk and that he had reformed himself, but no one knew the secrets lying beneath all that.

Charles Burke was the name of the man he’d let die.

Corny had thought of it almost every day since that night. He would never forget it. Because of him, Grace Burke had been left a widow with two small children to raise all on her own.

He’d read the entire story in the papers in the weeks following that night. The papers had called Corny a hero, asking him to come forward. That was a joke though, Corny was no hero. He was a coward and a drunk, and even though he’d changed, he would never be able to forget what he’d done or forgive himself.

Deputy Fletcher waved hello as they crossed paths, and Corny forced a smile on his face.

Getting ready to leave? the deputy asked.

Corny nodded. Yep. This afternoon sometime.

Now that things in Thunder Hill were quiet again, and his friend Rex had gotten married, Corny and the rest of Rex’s brothers were leaving town; Mollie, Rex’s sister, included. They were going home to Cedar Summit, where Corny’s newest hotel was about to open.

He figured a little town like Cedar Summit could use a nice hotel. Nothing too fancy, something regular folks could still afford, but still nicer than those fleabags he used to stay in.

The papers had even picked it up and printed a little something about it. Corny was far from being a rich hotel owner, but he was on his way. This would be his third hotel, and his bank account was enough to keep him comfortable. Maybe in another few years, he’d have enough to call himself rich. For now though, he was just well-off.

He and the deputy chatted a few minutes then the deputy headed back to the station, and Corny headed toward Rex’s home, where Mollie was staying during her visit. He would just say hi and talk to her a little while. Maybe they could go for a short walk. He just wanted to be near her.

The land between the downtown area and the homes was spread out a little. The homes themselves were nice, close enough to their neighbors to call on them for help but not so close that they could hear each other through the walls.

Halfway to the house, Corny heard a man’s boot crunch on some twigs behind him. He turned and saw Vincent standing there. Corny had to blink several times, thinking the light was playing some sort of trick on him. It wasn’t. The scar on Vincent’s forehead was there, and so was that same devilish glint in his eye.

Corny automatically reached for his gun. Vincent held his hands in the air. I wouldn’t be so fast to shoot if I were you. I’ve got friends close by, and if anything happens to me, something might happen to you.

Corny paused with the gun in his hand. How did you find me? In the back of his mind, he’d always worried about something like this. He hadn’t really believed it would happen though.

Vincent shrugged. You can thank the newspapers for that. You got your name in them twice recently, for that hotel you’re building and shooting up some bad guys here in Thunder Hill. How the hell did a coward like you manage to take down Otis Younger and his gang anyway?

Corny hesitated then holstered his gun again. Vincent hadn’t made a move for his. Whatever this was, he wasn’t here for a fight.

What do you want? Corny asked through gritted teeth.

Vincent took a step closer. Well, now, that’s funny you should ask. You see, I lost a bit of money the other night, and I wouldn’t mind getting a hold of some more. He arched an eyebrow.

Corny’s throat was dry. He looked around but didn’t see anyone close by. Why would I give you money?

Vincent shrugged. Because if you don’t, I’ll tell everyone that you helped us kill Charles Burke two years ago.

Corny’s shoulders tightened. His day suddenly went from bad to worse. I didn’t kill him; you did. But even as he said those words, he didn’t really believe them. Vincent knew it, too. He stared at him until Corny felt uncomfortable. How much do you want?

A thousand dollars.

Corny laughed out loud. A thousand dollars? For what? To keep quiet about that night?

That’s right. And to make sure nothing accidentally happens to you.

Now Corny felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. You’re threatening me? He didn’t like being threatened.

Vincent shrugged. "I’m