Dead Men Walking: The Redemption Trail, #1

By Scott Connor

When Corrigan O'Kelley joined Merrick Walsh's outlaw gang he enjoyed years of success until their raid on a railroad office started a feud with a rival outlaw.

 

A showdown with Wyndham Reed failed to resolve the feud and worse, an old friend of Corrigan's was gunned down. As the outlaws fled from the law Corrigan vowed to avenge the death, but none of them realized that they faced a much greater threat. They had incurred the wrath of railroad man Stanmore Hamilton and now they all had a price on their heads.

 

With Stanmore and his ruthless hired guns getting ever closer can this mismatched bunch of adversaries find a way to put aside their animosity and unite against their common enemy?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Culbin Press
• Release date: Feb 20, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215382394

Scott Connor

Ian Parnham was born in Nottingham, England and now lives in N.E Scotland. He is the author of 37 western novels published as I. J. Parnham, Scott Connor and Ed Law.

Book preview

Chapter One

I don’t reckon anyone’s there, Corrigan O’Kelley said.

Merrick Walsh shuffled forward to join Corrigan on the edge of the ridge. Below was the station house and farther afield was the town of Hamilton’s Grove.

It looks deserted, but Wyndham Reed is a devious varmint, he said. We’ve still got an hour before sundown, so get down there and check out the building.

Corrigan nodded and then crawled away from the edge. When the station house was no longer visible he stood up and made his way along the top of the ridge. Then, with his head down, he moved to lower ground.

He slipped past the other two members of Merrick’s gang, Nicholson Lee and Ambrose Nash, who had hunkered down on a ledge. Both men acknowledged him with shrugs that showed nothing untoward had happened yet.

When Corrigan reached the railroad tracks he walked toward the town. Whenever he espied anyone nearby he stopped, but each time he concluded they weren’t trouble. He was fifty yards from the platform when to his surprise a man walked past the window in the station house, although his openness suggested he might not be one of Wyndham’s men.

Corrigan hurried away from the tracks and then ran toward the side of the station house. His cautious action would have been noticed by the men on the ridge and they would now be on alert, so he concentrated on the scene ahead.

He reached the side of the building without further alarm. To his side was the railroad office, a place he hadn’t expected to be close to again so soon. As it looked closed he slipped around the corner of the station house and edged along to the window.

Inside, a uniformed man who he assumed was the station manager was pottering around. With his back to the wall Corrigan waved at the ridge, signifying that everything appeared to be fine and then moved to the side of the door.

Despite his confidence that Wyndham wasn’t lying in wait, he backhanded the door open and waited. A few moments later the station manager came out sporting a smile.

I’m sorry, he said. There are no more trains today.

I’d gathered that, Corrigan said. Is anyone else here?

No, but why do you. . . ? The man trailed off and narrowed his eyes. Corrigan O’Kelley, is that really you?

Corrigan backed away for a cautious pace, but then he recognized the man and smiled.

It sure is, Geoffrey Fleming. It’s been a while.

It has. I reckon it must be ten years since we last spoke and we’re both far from home. Geoffrey smiled widely and then gestured at his uniform. You can see what I do now, so what about you?

To avoid answering the question Corrigan slapped Geoffrey’s shoulder and headed inside. Geoffrey followed him in and stood beside the door while Corrigan walked around the waiting room.

Corrigan kept smiling as if he was admiring Geoffrey’s domain, although in truth he was confirming that nobody else was there. The only other room was the ticket office where sheets of paper were strewn over a desk suggesting that he hadn’t noticed Geoffrey from the ridge because he was dealing with paperwork.

I guess you could call me a businessman, Corrigan said, turning back to Geoffrey.

I always knew you’d amount to more than I have.

Corrigan shrugged. You look content enough.

Geoffrey rubbed his jaw and then nodded. I am. I married a good woman and have two sons who are growing up to be fine men.

I’m pleased and I envy you. I don’t have no family and sometimes I miss that.

Corrigan turned to the window, fearing that having given Geoffrey a few personal details he might go on to accidentally reveal something incriminating about a life he couldn’t talk about to an old friend. As young men he and Geoffrey had lived in Independence, and they had been eager to move on and seek their fortune elsewhere, so as soon as they were old enough they had left town together.

During a stint on the railroad they had drifted apart and that had been the last time Corrigan had seen him. Clearly Geoffrey had continued to work for the railroad, but Corrigan had taken a different path, which had started when, after growing bored with the back-breaking work, he’d broken into the railroad office and stolen the cash he’d found there.

Over the next seven years he’d continued stealing, leading to him spending more time in jail than on the outside, after which he’d become more adept at avoiding justice. Three years ago he’d fallen in with Merrick Walsh’s outlaw gang and they had engaged in a string of profitable raids on the railroad, but last month their run of success had ended, ironically in the same way that Corrigan’s criminal career had started.

They had raided the railroad office in Hamilton’s Grove, but their haul had been less than Merrick had expected. Worse, afterward the gunslinger Wyndham Reed had set out to destroy them, presumably because he had deemed that they’d encroached on his domain.

So far the turf war had claimed three lives, two of Wyndham’s men and one from Merrick’s gang. It had looked as if they’d skirmish until one of them was victorious, but then Wyndham had sent Merrick a message to meet him at the Hamilton’s Grove station house at sundown.

Merrick couldn’t tell whether the invitation would turn out to be a trap, or a showdown or even an opportunity to hammer out a truce, but even though he rarely returned to the scenes of his past crimes he could never resist a challenge. As it now looked as if it wasn’t the former Corrigan headed to the door.

Don’t go yet, Geoffrey said. We have plenty to talk about. I was supposed to finish up here an hour ago, so we can have a drink in the Golden Nugget saloon, followed by a meal at home.

That sure is tempting, but I have to—

Please don’t refuse, Geoffrey said, lowering his voice. I can see you’re no businessman and you’re down on your luck. A whiskey or two, a good meal and, if you can put aside your pride, a few dollars in your pocket might turn things around for you.

Corrigan tipped back his hat in surprise at Geoffrey’s assumption about his current situation.

I sure can’t accept that.

You can. When we were young you helped me out a few times. It’ll be my pleasure to help you now.

Corrigan sighed and when he failed to find an appropriate response, Geoffrey came over while rummaging in his pocket. He thrust a few bills into Corrigan’s hand and then closed his fingers around them.

With a slow shake of the head Corrigan held the bills out, but Geoffrey was already heading to the door. Corrigan moved to follow him, but then outside two men stepped up on to the platform.

He had seen Wyndham Reed’s gang only from a distance, but he was sure they were two of the men they’d come to meet. Farther away up the ridge, Nicholson and Ambrose were heading to lower ground.

I’m obliged for your generosity, Corrigan said. I’ll follow you to the saloon shortly.

We can go together now. After all, you’re paying for the drinks. Geoffrey removed a key from his pocket and held it up. More important, I have to lock up.

Outside, one man was tipping back his hat in bemusement suggesting he hadn’t expected the station house to be open while the other man was facing the window having presumably seen him inside. There was no sign of anyone else, but Wyndham and his other gang member would surely be nearby. Geoffrey then noticed the men and with a murmur of irritation he moved to leave.

Ignore them, Corrigan said.

I can’t, Geoffrey said, although he stopped. Our drink will have to wait until I’ve dealt with them.

Corrigan shook his head, but when Geoffrey again moved to go outside he lunged forward and grabbed his arm.

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