Justice Comes Home (The Texas Riders Western #2) (A Western Frontier Fiction): The Texas Riders, #2

By Joseph Powell

He refused to fight, until the fight came to him.

Perry Wallace lives by the cowboy's code:

1- care for your ranch,

2- love your family, and

3- defend justice.

But … when the law fails, you have to take justice into your own hands.

When the wedding of a close friend falls under attack from unseen assailants, the bride is killed and the groom is crippled for life.

Perry and his family barely escape.

No one knows who is behind it or why, until the attacks continue.

Rusty Taylor was born evil.

His thirst for blood and murder cannot be quenched, and the more you scream, the more he smiles.

His little brother was the same way, until Perry killed him while defending the honor of two young women.

Now Rusty's ready to wage war.

He does not forgive and forget.

He murders and punishes.

And what he wants now is for Perry to suffer.

But Perry's brothers won't let him fight this battle alone.

They're not just seeking revenge; they're seeking justice.

Perry's ready for a fight, but are bullets strong enough to stop a madman?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joseph Powell
• Release date: Feb 16, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393166412

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

* * *

Cedar Summit, Texas, 1869

The summer storm was stronger than Perry Wallace had expected. It blew hard against the door of the root cellar he and his wife were huddled in with their three small, terrified children. For a moment, he was afraid the wind might knock it off altogether.

The cellar was little more than a dirt hole he’d dug out with the help of his younger brother, Rex. Just big enough to hold potatoes and vegetables and the five of them, so long as they didn’t try to stretch out too much. If any of his children had been older than six, he wasn’t sure they’d have fit. If Nadine gave him any more children, they’d be in real trouble come the next storm.

He should’ve fixed the cellar up long ago, made it bigger and better, the kind of cellar a ranch like his ought to have. But the cattle kept him busy, and he’d never seemed to find the time. If they made it out of this alive, he would make the time.

He lit a candle and the entire group seemed to sigh with relief as a soft orange glow filled the space, pushing out the darkness. It was the only candle he’d been able to find in the time they’d had. He hoped it would last the night but doubted it would make it past two. It was only ten now, and the moon was hiding behind dark gray clouds.

His six-year-old son, Harley, tugged on his arm. Daddy, are we gonna die?

Nadine’s eyes widened, and she shot Perry a terrified look. Her blond hair fell around her head in soft waves caked with dirt. Water dripped slowly down on her from above them, wetting her hair as she covered the children with her body as best she could, trying to protect them.

Perry inhaled and forced a smile on his face. No, we’re not gonna die. It’s just a storm. We’ve had them before.

Harley nodded but didn’t look convinced. His light blond hair had come from Nadine’s side of the family, just like his daughters’. They had Perry’s eyes though, a deep blue that could rival the gulf’s tides. And Harley was tall for his age, another thing he’d gotten from his father; Perry was six-foot-five

Francis and Mable, just three and four years old, blinked rapidly at their father as a loud whistle blew over their heads. Francis was still learning to string words together but she knew enough to ask, What is?

It’s nothing, Perry said as Nadine’s grip on her children tightened. Just the wind.

Nothing in the world could have tempted him to tell his children a tornado was coming; was, in fact, already here. He closed his eyes and prayed to God that they might all survive this night.

When morning came, he counted eyes and ears and heads and found them all to be exactly as they should be. They climbed out of the root cellar, Perry coming up first and looking around. The damage wasn’t nearly as bad as he’d feared. Their house was still standing and the ranch land, though scattered with debris, seemed almost wholly intact. He hoped his brothers had had similar luck with their own ranches.

Nadine let out a relieved sigh. Looks okay, doesn’t it? 

Perry nodded. Tornado must have passed right over us without dipping down.

Harley looked up at him. His head came up just past Perry’s waist. Tornado? he said, his young voice cracking. Even at six, he understood the danger of tornados.

Perry pressed his lips together. We’re okay. You go on in the house with your mother. I’ve got to check the land and see how the cattle held up.

And Mr. Taylor, Nadine said as she scooted the children ahead of her. He’s all alone on that ranch from what I’ve heard. We ought to make sure he’s all right.

Perry nodded and watched Nadine usher their children into their one-story farmhouse. The wood’s white paint was cracked and peeling and covered in dirt from the storm. Inside the walls, though, lay some of the prettiest rooms you’d ever find.

Five bedrooms and two washing rooms, a kitchen, living area, parlor, and dining room that Nadine had decorated in a simple but attractive style. The house sat on just over ten acres of land, somewhere on which his cattle were roaming; the storm had come on too fast yesterday for him to round them up.

He went to the barn first, a tall two-story structure made of wood and painted red. It housed a handful of horses, his milking cows, and some goats. He’d spent countless hours painting the exterior and trim, replacing broken or worn-out boards, and redoing the roof. He was glad to find the place still standing and the animals inside drier than he and his family had been when they’d come out of the root cellar.

He took out one of the horses, a personal favorite called Petunia. She’d belonged to his brother Bert until about a year ago when Bert had been killed by a gang of outlaws. Perry and his two remaining brothers had been forced to put those outlaws in their place. They all missed their brother like they would miss their own hand. Clay had even named his dog after him.

And now Petunia was his. He stroked her thick brown fur and spoke softly to her, apologizing for the storm as if he’d conjured it up himself. He grabbed his rifle, an 1866 Springfield Allen Conversion Rifle, another thing he’d inherited from his dead brother, and attached it to her saddle before riding out.

He loved the feel of the Springfield in his hands whenever he held it. It was a better gun than the ’65 Springfield had been. They’d fixed the extractor and given it a .50 caliber centerfire cartridge. The ’65 had had a .58 caliber and been mediocre at best.

The pastures were wet but green, stretching out toward a flat horizon. The patch of Earth they’d reserved for their crops looked as if the wind had tried it’s best to knock them down. The crops were bent this way and that but not broken, and upon closer inspection, most of them had stayed rooted to the ground. That was Texas for you; it took its licks but kept going strong.

Perry made his way toward some cattle in the distance. Two bulls snorted at him as he approached then went back to grazing on the wet grass. He looked around and spotted another dozen or so of his cattle, a mixture of bulls, heifers, and cows that had somehow managed to escape the storm unscathed. He spent the rest of the morning rounding up all he could and counted all but a lonesome few who might not have been quite so lucky as the rest.

In the distance, Perry spotted a clean-shaven man with curly brown hair approaching on a horse. Perry squinted and made out Corny Oliver. He had a medium-sized frame and was surprisingly well-muscled for a former drinking man. His real name was Cornelius, but even after he’d given up drinking and gambling, no one had ever called him anything but Corny. Except maybe for Perry’s sister, Mollie. Perry had the sneaking suspicion that one day he’d be calling Corny brother-in-law.

Hey, there, Corny, Perry said, raising a hand to him in salute. How’d everyone hold up at Rex’s last night?

All right. The land’s a little messy, but otherwise, everyone’s in one piece. Mollie told me to come check on you all and make sure you were just as whole as the rest of us.

Perry smiled. She’s got you wrapped around her finger, doesn’t she?

Corny grinned and a blush crept into his cheeks. I don’t know that I’d say that exactly... Mollie’s got a real stubborn streak in her at times is all, and it’s best for me to do as she says when I’m in town, or I’ll spend my entire visit getting an earful.

Perry chuckled. That’s what happens when you grow up the baby in the family. You get used to getting what you want. Tell her we’re all fine here. I’m just hunting down the rest of my cattle.

Want some help?

If you’ve got the time.

For you, I’ll make the time. Then, under his breath, Or I’ll hear it from your sister when I get back.

Perry chuckled. I’m about done looking around here. Thought I might check my neighbor’s property. A few could’ve wandered over in the storm. Nadine wants me to make sure Mr. Taylor’s all right, anyhow.

Mr. Taylor?

Perry nodded. Hal Taylor. The fella who moved in a couple weeks ago. It’s just him and some ranch hands from what we’ve heard.

You ain’t introduced yourself yet?

Perry shook his head. Word’s been going around that he prefers his own company. Still, with the storm and all, we ought to at least say our hellos.

Maybe he’s not so bad. Could be he’s just shy of strangers, Corny said and started in Hal’s direction.

There was no clearly defined border between Perry and Hal’s land except for the largest live oak he’d ever seen. The man who’d lived in the house before had been a close friend of Perry’s, and the men had never gotten into any disputes over invisible boundaries. If a cow or two wandered onto the wrong patch of Earth, they’d just go onto the other’s land and bring them back.

Perry was less certain about this new neighbor. He entered the land cautiously, looking around and seeing if he could spot Hal outside somewhere, maybe checking on his own cattle. He’d only seen the man once, and that had been from some distance, but it was enough that he’d know him if he saw him.

What’s that? Corny said, pointing to his right.

Perry followed Corny’s finger and saw a young woman running toward them from Hal’s farmhouse. She had long dark hair, a pale face, and was completely naked from head to toe. She couldn’t have been more than eighteen. Perry’s heart thumped hard in his chest, and he urged Petunia forward.

She was panting when they reached her. There were scratches and bruises all over her body and fresh tears on her cheeks. Perry and Corny got down from their horses, and Perry quickly covered her with his coat.

What happened? Perry asked, looking the woman over for any sign of serious injury. She must’ve been Hal’s sister, since the man wasn’t married. Was it the storm? Is anyone else hurt?

She nodded, her whole body shaking. H-He’s got her.

Perry and Corny looked at each other. Who’s got who? Corny asked.

The woman’s face was red. She spoke through her sobs. The m-man who lives here. He took me and my sister last night just before the storm hit. He and his two friends.

"Took you?" Perry said, anger bubbling up deep inside him.

My sister and I got lost when the storm came on. Her tears choked her words, cutting them off. They had guns. A wail as loud as last night’s storm fell from her lips.

Sssh, Perry said, trying to calm her. It’s okay. You’re with us now.

He looked at Corny and knew they were thinking the same thing. We’ve got to do something.

The woman clawed at Perry’s shirt, her hands gripping onto him. Please... they still have her. She’s only twelve.

His anger stopped bubbling and turned hard, a cement layer of fury that wrapped around his heart. Your sister’s gonna be okay. I promise.

He hesitated then reached into his saddlebag and gave her his spare gun, a Colt Model 1861 Navy. It was a six-shot single- action percussion revolver that he always kept with him because it was the most reliable gun he’d ever owned.

We’re gonna get your sister back. You take this and if you see anyone come out of that house who isn’t us, shoot them. Her eyes widened. His throat was dry. You know how to shoot? She nodded silently and put her finger over the trigger.

What’s your sister’s name? Corny asked, getting out his own gun, a Colt Army Model 1860. It was .44 calibers with a rebated cylinder and a twenty-inch round barrel.

Samantha. I’m Lily.

Perry and Corny hurried toward the house on foot. It was two stories, a yellowing white that made it look older than it really was. The front door was solid dark wood that had gone unpainted, with a left-hand inswing that opened into a good-sized foyer with a set of stairs just beyond it. The door was standing open, and inside they heard a girl crying.

How could you let her get away? a man yelled at the top of his voice.

Perry peeked around the door and saw a man with dark hair and tiny eyes pacing the living room. Hal. He had a Cooper Double Action five-shot percussion revolver in his hand and was swinging it through the air, pointing it every so often at a terrified girl who wasn’t quite as naked as her sister. She still had her underclothes on, but her bare feet and hands were tied with rope and a blindfold covered her eyes.

I don’t know how she did it, said Hal’s friend, a man with lightly tanned skin and brown hair. Blood dribbled down from his nose, crossing his lips and landing on his chin. I had her on the bed and was getting ready to take her when she bit my nose and—

You darn fool, Lenny. If we’re caught and she tells them what we did, we’re both gonna hang. You better pray we find her.

She couldn’t have gotten far. Just give me a minute to stop this bleeding and I’ll get right out there after her. Lenny pressed a handkerchief to his nose.

Hal’s face was a thick layer of frustration. Now I’ve got to shoot this other one before she gets away too.

Hal pointed his gun at the younger girl, who began screaming as though she could sense the gun being trained on her. Lenny hit her, and she shut up. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth and fell in droplets on the floor.

We were gonna kill them both anyway, said Lenny. What’s the big deal?

Hal shot him an irritated look. "We haven’t had any fun with them yet. Storm took up all our time last night. That’s the big deal."

Perry’s blood boiled. Behind him, Corny was breathing hot air on his neck like a warm wind, his hands curling into fists. Perry aimed his Springfield at Hal and held his breath, ready to shoot the man’s head off. He had his finger on the trigger when Lenny turned his head just the right way and caught sight of him.

Look out! Lenny shouted, pulling his gun and making Hal jump.

Hal turned and spotted Perry peeking around the door. His hand flew to his gun and he fired it, missing Perry’s head by an inch.

Perry pulled the trigger of his rifle, missing Hal but putting one into Lenny’s arm. Lenny dropped his gun with a yowl and held his arm like it was about to fall off.

Corny ran into the house toward the stairs, keeping his head low and firing his Colt Army at Hal while the terrified girl sobbed and screamed for her sister.

Down! Corny shouted at Perry as Perry started to stand. He ducked as a bullet sailed over his head. Another inch to his left and it would’ve taken off his ear. Corny planted himself behind a wall, his gun up and waiting for a clean shot. Perry already had one.

He fired his Springfield. The gun cracked thunder and a shockwave ran through his hand and up his arm. The bullet found its way into Hal’s skull, blowing bits and pieces of him all over the floorboards. Hal dropped to the ground and a pool of blood oozed out of his head. His leg twitched a couple of times before it stilled.

Lenny let out a cry that was more angry than it was scared. You no-good pieces of— He fired three rounds in quick succession, not bothering to aim, just pulling the trigger. He was desperate to hit one of them, and desperation was a terrible thing for a man in Lenny’s position.

Lenny’s gun clicked empty, and his face went white. He had just enough time to realize his error before Corny pulled the trigger of his own gun. The bullets that flew from it sank so far into Lenny’s chest that they came out the other side. Lenny dropped to the ground beside his friend, his blood merging with Hal’s to create an ocean of red.

Corny walked over to the man and kicked him lightly with his foot, and the man did not move. Perry quickly untied the girl, and Corny covered her up with his coat. They told her to stay put then made their way through the house, double-checking each room and finding nothing.

When they stepped out of the house, Lily nearly shot their heads off.

Careful! Corny yelled at her.

Sorry, Lily said. Then her eyes widened. Samantha? she yelled, running toward them.

Lily! Samantha shouted back.

The two sisters embraced. Corny elbowed Perry, his face taut. "Didn’t Lily say there were three men? Hal and two friends?" Corny looked over his shoulder at the house.

Perry frowned and bit his lip. Lily? Samantha? Were there three men in that house or only two?

Lily and Samantha looked at each other through their tears. I thought there were three, said Lily, biting her lower lip, but they had my face covered most of the time. I only saw one real clear.

Samantha shrugged and a fresh round of tears started.

Corny took Perry aside. She probably just got mixed up. She was scared and all.

Perry nodded but his frown did not lift. Probably.

* * *

chapter  0 1 ✪

* * *

Two Months Later

Nadine, you’ve outdone yourself, Eleanor Graves said, looking at the food spread across the elegant cream-colored tablecloth Nadine reserved for special occasions, their anniversary being one of them.

Eleanor was seated at the elegant dining table beside Ernest Welles, her fiancé. She was wearing a lilac dress with some sort of lace she said came from France, and her brown hair was in a twisted updo, the style also from France.

Perry understood guns, cattle, and how to fix a busted roof, but he was darned if he could explain women and their fashion. Tight corsets left them unable to breathe; bustles left them unable to sit; and even the best of friends, like Nadine and Eleanor, were in constant competition to outdo each other.

By the way, Eleanor said, that’s a beautiful dress you’re wearing, Nadine.

This? Nadine asked, beaming. Why, it was the first thing I pulled from my closet.

Perry turned his head so that no one would see him roll his eyes. Nadine had started dressing for the evening at noon. Her dress was even fancier than Eleanor’s; petal pink with a high waist and a small bustle. There were layers of underskirts and long, tight sleeves.

She’d forgone lunch because she had not wanted to ruin her appetite for supper, but Perry suspected her real reason had been that she’d wanted her figure to be as trim as possible to better showcase her new dress.

It was silly. Nadine’s figure was as trim as the day he’d married her, even after birthing three children. He often found himself staring at her, lustful thoughts dancing through his head that would surely have been a sin had they not already been married.

He caught sight of Ernest staring at the food with his mouth hanging open, and Perry thought the man might start drooling any minute now. His stomach gave a loud grumble, and his face reddened.

Ernest cleared his throat. It looks delicious.

I didn’t do it all alone. Mollie and Genevieve helped, said Nadine with false modesty that, on another woman, would have irritated him. On Nadine, though, it made her blush deepen and Perry’s heart stammer in response.

I only made a salad, said Genevieve, who was married to Perry’s youngest brother, Clay. I’m a terrible cook. Salad’s the best I can do. I burn everything else. I fear our poor child will grow up starved. Her eyes drifted to the bassinet in the corner of the room.

Clay laid one hand gently on her arm. I’ve always preferred my food crisp.

Genevieve blushed and looked sweetly at him.

Rex laughed out loud. Besides, what you don’t eat, I bet your dog, Bert, has no problem chowing down on. His wife, Rita, swatted him on the arm. She looked at Genevieve. Don’t you mind him. Rex wouldn’t know good food if it took a bite out of his leg.

I would too, Rex said. Nadine’s food is really good. Mollie’s too.

Mollie said, I only made a cake for tonight. I didn’t have time for anything else. My little girl can’t even walk yet but she keeps me on my toes. Nadine did practically everything herself. I don’t know how she managed. Mollie had left her one-year-old, Hailey, with a neighbor for the evening.

It was no trouble, Nadine said, her cheeks rosy, and Perry shot her a look.

Really? he asked her with a grin. No trouble? I seem to remember a string of curses erupting from your mouth early this morning when you peeked at the roast and found it still raw.

She pressed her lips together. You hush up now, she said with a glare, pointing a finger angrily at him, but there was a hint of playfulness in her eyes that couldn’t be missed.

Rita was still looking at Rex, her arms crossed. "What about my food? she asked with an arch of her eyebrow, ignoring the conversation around her. You enjoy my cooking, don’t you?"

Your food? Rex asked, looking to Perry for help, but Perry knew better than to get involved. Uh...

Rex was saved from answering Rita’s question by a large roast Nadine produced from the kitchen just then. Steam was rolling off it in thick waves as she carried it on a tray. Half a dozen small children ran in front of her, almost tripping her up, but she managed to catch her balance and stop the roast from plummeting to the floor.

Theodore! Eleanor snapped at her son, who was the same age as Harley. "Do not run in the