Reaper's Reward

By Kalisto Barques

Follow a young man with a destiny he never expected on a journey through pain, redemption, and love.

See the world through the eyes of hope, love, and faith in more than you can see or touch.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kalisto Barques
• Release date: Oct 7, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005930776

Kalisto Barques

I am published here on Smashwords, on Inkit, Free-ebooks, Mytopia, Overdrive, and all over the world. The mark of a good author isn't just how many books they write, or publish. It's all about how good what they publish is. If the readers can come back and read the author again. Even if it's a different book, then the author is doing something right. That is my goal, not cookie cutter stories, that are boring and pat. So please take a look at what I have.

Book preview

1

Genoa, Ormsby County, Nevada, 1885

Fastest gun in the west. That’s what his opponent was known as. Standing well over six feet he had a huge barrel chest. Simon’s keen eyes followed the man’s progress down the street towards him. Clem Sawyer, that was the man’s name. It was high noon a time when men and women cleared the streets, the time of day associated with street duels. The sun at its zenith cast no shadows to distract either party, making the fight fair according to western law.

The clank of spurs hitting stone brought Simon out of his reverie. The men lining the street seemed to be holding their breath waiting for him to die. He smiled a glittering smile. Not this time, my friends. Today justice will swing in toil. He folded back the left side of his duster revealing a lethal looking pistol of unknown make. We don’t have to do this Mr. Sawyer.

"Draw yer iron dude! Ya ain’t backin out o’ this! Ye ain’t never met a gunfighter as good, and ye ain’t never goin’ ta again!

Simon’s smile, disappeared. You really aim to do this, then? Very well… draw! With speed and agility that defied the natural laws his gun cleared his holster three seconds before his opponent’s. His finger stayed on the trigger guard. He prayed his luck would hold and he wouldn’t have to fire. Killing glory seekers is never worth the wasted bullet. Lady luck proved a fickle wench by abandoning him. The bullet struck high on the left side jerking him backwards. He felt the burn in his chest and heard the soft gurgle. The pain was nothing, and then he coughed slightly. Wildfire spread in his chest as he felt a trickle of wetness from the corner of his mouth.

Damn! Pulling a handkerchief from his breast pocket he daubed at his lips. His eyes touched on the bloodstained cloth and he growled. You ruined my best shirt! Raising his gun a little he fired. The slim bullet lost itself in the dirt somewhere beyond the man. The crowd began murmuring about how he’d missed. He heard gasps as the bullet, which had lodged in his chest fell out into his hand. Grim determination settled over his features as he stalked across the distance. Stopping before the man known as the fastest gun, he tipped his hat in a gentlemanly gesture. You were right friend. I’ve never met a better gunfighter.

He saw blood oozing from the small hole in the man’s throat. Won’t be long now Clem Sawyer. He fought down the hunger the sight of oozing life brought him. Won’t be long at all. Turning he stepped onto the boardwalk with a satisfied smile, as behind him his opponent finally hit the dirt. The crowd rushed around Simon to circle the body like vultures. His hand connected with the doorknob of his hotel when he heard the first cries of anger. It always happens this way...doesn’t matter where I go. Nodding to the proprietor he took the stairs to his room on the second floor.

Pouring a basin of water he stripped off his shirt, sticking his finger through the hole, and sighed. Tossing the shirt aside and reaching for a rag he turned back to the basin of tepid water. A knock sounded as he began cleaning the drying blood off his chest and stomach. Go away!

The knock sounded again, this time accompanied by a woman’s voice. Mr. LaVigne? Let me in so I can tend your injuries.

He recognized the voice of the proprietor’s daughter. Sighing he grated out. Go away woman!

Mr. LaVigne, I saw what happened. Now you let me in to tend your wound or I’ll go get the key from Papa.

Anger leapt into his cobalt eyes as he stalked over and flung the door open. Woman, I don’t need help! The anger surprised him. I don’t need no woman meddling in my affairs! He fell silent as the air was sucked from his lungs.

Raising a hand she touched his chest. You were shot! I saw the bullet hit you…right here Her fingers splayed out over the left side of his chest where the bullet had penetrated. Where’s the wound?

He went still as death. It is healed. His simple reply brought her head up, revealing hazel eyes filled with confusion. I heal at an accelerated rate, he said with a shrug.

That’s not natural, she said in a horrified whisper. What’s going on here? You were hit. I saw you bleedin’.

His hand snaked out and he pulled her into the room. Closing the door he turned her around to face him. You should sit down Miss Talbot, you look about to swoon. His other hand flicked the lock on the door before he led her to the chair. Tossing his shirt on the bed he seated her, and taking a glass from the bedside table he poured a measure of amber liquid from the bottle that was next to it and pressed it into her hands. Drink this, you will feel better. His eyes watched her while he reached into a large black saddlebag and pulled out a new shirt. Money has its privileges, I