Just a Notion

By Amos Walker

Left alone to die in the wilderness of the dessert, the young boys hate was almost as strong as his will to live. The outlaw Jessup Stone had just killed his father and taken his family and scattered them in the wind as if they were nothing. Stone didnt realize, the stock the young boy sprang from which would not let him forget or forgive. Through tragedy and an unlikely friendship with the Cheyenne, the boy becomes a man to reckon with. The hate raging inside of him drives him to do unspeakable acts. There is nothing he wont do to get his family back and to fulfill his fathers promise to his family.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 27, 2009
• ISBN: 9781462813315

Amos Walker

Amos Walker grew up in small town USA during the 50's and 60's the 8th child in a very poor family of 10 children. By the time Amos was born, followed quickly by his two younger Brothers his parents were pretty much worn out with raising children. So Amos and his younger brothers were pretty much left to fend for themselves. There never seemed to be enough food to go around so the three boys learned early to hunt wild game and rob the neighbors fruit trees in order to eat. Amos worked hard all his life starting at the age of 11. He was successful in his own business for several years and suffered many hardships throughout, but never lost the joy of the little things in life. For years Amos has been interested in writing and this last year finally seen his work in print. He writes for the sheer enjoyment and feels the need to get his stories "Out There"

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Copyright © 2009 by Alex Fletcher.

Art by Gary at listerart.com

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

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

This book was printed in the United States of America.

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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

In memory of

George Walker Lister,

1952-2007

My good friend and my inspiration

CHAPTER 1

They pushed the horses and themselves all the night. The saddle horses were hitched to the wagons trying to help the team horses pull through the rock and sand of the desert. Anyone that could walk did to lessen the load on the tired horses. It was near noon the next day before they stopped for a spell to water the horses and catch their breath. By nightfall, they could see the oasis and relief spread through the wagon people as each caught sight of the oasis.

The oasis loomed large on the horizon. It was protected on three sides by rocky cliffs that jutted out from clumps of trees here and there. It was capable of supporting several species of wild life.

They welcomed the cooler air of the oasis as if it was a cool spring rain. There was water coming up out of the ground from under a rocky ledge. The ledge ran along the water’s edge about twenty feet, and then formed a cave before it went back in the ground. There was lots of grass for the horses, just like Mr. Stone, the wagon scout, had said.

It was their good fortune that Mr. Stone’s warning had came early enough for them to get to the oasis and make preparations to defend themselves.

John McKee had been working on the harness; and his sons were working on the saddles, while the women were fixing the evening meal.

Mr. Stone had ridden into camp calling to John to gather everyone around. When everyone was assembled he said, There’s a gang of outlaws trailing the wagon train and will easily catch us around noon tomorrow. There’s an oasis out in the desert west of here. I suggest we take the wagons there now. There’s a large spring and enough grass for the horses for a while, if need be. But we need to leave tonight to put some distance between us and the outlaws. It’s the only way. I don’t think they’ll want to cross the desert for just three wagons. If we leave tonight, maybe the winds will blow away our tracks so they can’t follow us. You all discuss it amongst yourselves, but hurry on.

John asked, How many of them are there?

Maybe twenty and they have the repeating rifles. We don’t. If they catch up with us, we don’t have a chance, Mr. Stone replied. It will be three or four days off the trail but worth it if no one gets hurt.

It was put to a quick vote, and everyone went to packing up to leave. The horses were tired, and they would have to push them hard.

The men lined up the wagons across the mouth of the cave the best they could. Everyone was busy fortifying the makeshift barricade.

Mary, John’s wife, even allowed her prized table to be laid gently on its side to plug a gap between wagons. She firmly hoped nothing would happen to it.

Walker, the youngest son of John McKee, wanted to help. He was only nine years old, and no one paid him much mind during their frantic pace to get ready. He looked around; but it was so dark now, and he could see very little. There were no campfires to show the outlaws where they were positioned. It was late when the women and children were sent to their bedrolls inside the cave. Walker hadn’t yet learned to use a rifle and was ordered to go to sleep. He slinked off feeling useless and left out.

The next morning, as Walker emerged from the cave after a sleepless night, he overheard one of the men say that the scout had taken off in the middle of the night. The men understood now that the outlaw raiders would be coming.

Yellow belly skunk, Walker thought. He was too young to know much about what was going to happen next, but everyone was as prepared as they could be.

Walker got a piece of jerky, stuck two more in his pocket; and filled his canteen with fresh water. He slid his belt through the sheath to strap on his prized knife. Just in case, he thought. He went as quietly as he could to scout behind the camp. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll find a way to help, he thought.

So far as anyone knew, he was with the women in the cave. If they knew he was out on his own, they would order him back to camp and the cave.

Walker worked his way through the underbrush behind the camp. He was excited to be out on his own scouting the area for his Pa. He came to a rock bluff where trees, sagebrush and a few cacti grew around the base. Walker looked up at the bluff and decided that was where he needed to be. Maybe he could find a lookout spot his Pa could use. He walked along the bottom of the bluff looking up and down the rocks for snakes or scorpions, but he saw none. He did scare up a rabbit out of the bushes which scared his heart right up into his throat. He continued walking through the underbrush and saw a narrow ledge overhead that was about fifteen feet off the ground. He climbed part way up a tree that grew next to the ledge wall, then grabbed hold of a rock and pulled himself onto the ledge. His ascent was well hidden by the tree and bushes below. When he reached the ledge, he looked down; and when he saw how high he really was, his heart went to slamming around in his chest. After his heart quieted, he got down on his knees and crawled along the ledge. The ledge rose slightly upward and then disappeared around a large outcropping of more rock. He inched around the outcropping and saw a hole in the rock where the ledge ended.

It was high enough that the hole could not be seen from the ground. He stuck his head in the hole and looked around hoping there weren’t any bears or big cats inside. It was dark and hard to see into the cave, but his eyes slowly adjusted; and with a sigh of relief, he could see that he was alone. He crawled into the opening and was drawn to the light coming through the wall that ran along the far side of the cave. The cracks let in enough light that he could see the floor of the cave sloped uphill slightly. The cave didn’t have a very tall ceiling, only about five feet; he could stand up pretty well in most places. He looked out the cracks and down into the oasis where everyone was waiting.

Some of the wagon people thought that they had been spared and were sitting drinking coffee while others weren’t quite so quick to relax.

The west side of the camp couldn’t be seen because a tree had grown tall enough to block his view.

He was so tuckered out from the race across the desert and the sleepless night that he lay down. It was cool in the cave, and he was content to watch everyone in camp through the cracks. It wasn’t long before the cool air lulled him to sleep. No one knew where he had gone.

He woke to the sound of gunfire. He saw the light from the cracks in the rock wall and remembered where he was. The outlaws had followed them after all! They were shooting and shooting, and he could see his Pa and the others returning the gunfire. He could tell they were outnumbered and losing the battle. The only thing he could do was watch it all happen.

After what seemed like a long time, the gunfire stopped; but actually the battle had been short-lived. He could hear his brother Matt hollering in the distance but couldn’t make out what he was saying. His father, mother and sisters were out of sight.

He wanted to go to them but was scared. He knew that if he left the cave before dark he would be seen. No one could see him in the cave, so he waited and waited.

Why didn’t I stay awake? Why didn’t I tell my Pa about this place right away? We could have all been safe, he thought. He rocked back and forth wishing things back to normal.

After dark, while he quietly crawled along the bluff, he heard the strangers talking. They were arguing over who was going to bury the dead. He knew Matt was not dead, but he was scared for the rest of his family.

He tried very hard to keep his mind on the ledge. It would be a far fall from the ledge. He wouldn’t be of any help to anyone if he fell.

He climbed down the same way he climbed up. He made his way as quietly as possible toward the camp to look for his sisters, Pa and Ma.

His Ma and sisters were tied up and sitting on the ground. It was all he could do to keep from running out to them. He lay down quietly and slowly began to belly crawl around the outside of the camp but keeping his distance. His brother was tied to stakes on the ground along with two others from the wagon train. He could see the entire camp now, but he couldn’t see his Pa or the rest of the other men.

He inched around behind the wagons to get a better look at their attackers. It was too dark for him to see any of the bad men clearly. Wait! That one is Mr. Stone! They must have caught him when he ran away, but why didn’t they tie him up? he thought. He sure is talking friendly like with the other men, and he still has his guns. The nearest I can tell, he’s one of the outlaws!

Staying out of sight, he crawled back toward the cave to wait for the gang to leave. When they leave, I’ll untie everyone and tell Pa what I saw, he thought. Along the way, he crawled as close as he could to his sisters and Ma. Rochelle was crying and Sarah wasn’t doing any better. Ma was sitting next to her daughters trying to soothe them with a hush baby now and then.

The bad men were