Straight to Hell: The Redemption Trail, #2

By Scott Connor

Having put his outlaw past behind him Corrigan O'Kelley returns to the railroad, but the hard toil soon makes him look for a better way to lead an honest life. A chance comes along when he saves Homer Dearborn from being robbed and his good deed earns him an offer of work that's more to his liking.

 

But before he can help Homer build a saloon for his brother Warren, the businessman Myron Frey goes back on a deal. Unless Warren pays him more he won't provide the materials he needs. So Corrigan helps his new friends turn the tables on Myron, but that only leads to more trouble and, when he incurs the wrath of the bank raider Reilly Todd, Corrigan will find that going straight will probably mean going straight to hell.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Culbin Press
• Release date: May 22, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223222903

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

There’s no more work for you here, so you’ll be moved ten miles down the tracks tomorrow, the foreman said.

That sounds ideal, Corrigan O’Kelley said, not because he intended to do the work but because he feared that a complaint would mean he wouldn’t get paid.

Be ready to leave at sunup.

When Corrigan nodded the foreman handed over his wages. Then he sloped off back to the tent that he shared with another ten men to gather up his few belongings. Before he left the encampment, he headed to the large tent that was being used as a saloon and which was the sole source of entertainment for the railroad workers.

With money in his pocket he reckoned that now was the right time for him to end his month-long stint at the railroad. For the ten years before working here Corrigan had avoided honest work and had lived off the money he made from his criminal exploits, but then he had resolved to put his past behind him.

As the spur for that change had been a chance encounter with an old friend he had decided to start that new life doing the work he had been doing when he’d last spent time with his friend. This had not worked out well.

The long hours of toil breaking rocks ahead of the advancing tracks for little pay had soon made him remember why he had turned to crime in the first place. He could earn more in one brief raid on the right people than he could from wielding a pickax for a month.

It was still early in the evening and few people were in the saloon. This pleased him as he didn’t want to waste his breath explaining to anyone why he was moving on, especially when he had no idea what he would do now that his first attempt to go straight had been unsatisfactory.

He bought a beer and hunched over it at the bar. He had only intended to have one drink, but three drinks later he was still there. The rough liquor had cheered him, leading him to decide that even if the last month hadn’t given him what he wanted that didn’t mean he couldn’t find it elsewhere, and neither did he feel an urge to revert back to his old ways.

In a more contented frame of mind he paid attention to his surroundings and two men standing beside him were discussing a recent string of attacks at the camp. Workers who had just been paid had been assaulted and parted from their money.

Corrigan listened to what these men knew about the incidents and then with their warning giving him another reason why he wouldn’t regret moving on, he downed his beer and headed outside. He stood for a while seeking out anyone who might cause him trouble.

He soon picked out a man who was standing near the saloon and watching people as they left. Corrigan figured that this man could be waiting to pick a likely target, so he resolved not to move on until a large group left the saloon and he could mingle in with them.

His cautious approach appeared to have been the right thing to do when a man came out of the saloon and the watcher stood up straight. Then he walked on, following the customer at a discreet distance.

With the man who had been behaving suspiciously moving on Corrigan reckoned there was no reason for him to wait any longer, but to his irritation he found that the customer was heading toward the corral on the edge of the encampment, the same place that he intended to go. So Corrigan found himself trailing behind the man who was following the customer.

Presently the two men disappeared behind a group of milling workers. When he’d passed by the group the men were no longer in sight, so Corrigan concentrated on looking out for any other signs of trouble.

He didn’t notice anything untoward until he reached the corral, where the situation he’d thought likely was taking place. The follower had pinned the customer back against the fence and was muttering threats. These were the only two people about, so Corrigan considered his options briefly and then broke into a run.

Hey, what’s going on there? he shouted.

His intervention led to the assailant thumping his victim in the stomach, causing him to fold over and drop to his knees. Then he rounded on Corrigan and swung back a fist, but before he could deliver a blow Corrigan ran into him and bundled him back against the fence.

The man braced his back against the fence and shoved Corrigan away, but that only gave Corrigan enough room to launch a scything punch at his opponent’s face. The blow connected with his opponent’s cheek and sent him spinning around.

Corrigan then stepped forward and grabbed the man around the shoulders from behind and ran him at the nearest fence post. The man raised his arms and managed to cushion the blow and avoid having his forehead crunch into the post, so Corrigan slammed him forward for a second time.

This time his opponent turned his head away, but he failed to get his arms in the right place and the side of his head clattered into the post. He collapsed, falling away to the side and folding over the middle rail of the fence before landing on the other side.

The man rubbed his cheek, groggily got to his feet and turned to Corrigan. On finding that the fence was now between them he rolled his shoulders and stood tall. Then he took an uncertain step toward him.

By now the man he’d attacked was rising to his feet, so with a shake of the head he appeared to accept that he was destined to come off worst in this encounter and he turned on his heels and scampered away. The rescued man stood beside Corrigan and they sent their opponent on his way with jeers and threats.

The man scurried along beside the fence and then slipped through it, but when he reached the other side he carried on running. When he’d disappeared from view Corrigan introduced himself and learned that he’d saved Homer Dearborn.

I assume I arrived before he managed to get his hands on your wages, Corrigan said.

Homer furrowed his brow and then gave a slow nod before patting a pocket.

So that’s what he wanted. I’d never met him before so I didn’t know why he’d come after me.

I’d heard that there’d been a spree of attacks, which makes me pleased that I managed to stop one before I left.

Homer smiled. It also makes me pleased that I got to leave with my wages intact.

It sounds as if you’re as tired of working here as I am.

Homer leaned back against the fence and rubbed his ribs where he’d been punched.

Until I got attacked I didn’t have a problem with this place. The work’s hard and the wages are poor, but I didn’t have any other options. Homer leaned toward Corrigan. Then earlier today I got to hear about a better offer so I’m moving on.

I like the thought of doing something that’s better than what we have to do here. What’s the offer?

It’s not something anyone else can. . . . Homer trailed off and then rubbed his jaw as if he was thinking and then pushed away from the fence. My brother, Warren, has got together the money to complete his dream of running his own saloon and he needs my help.

Corrigan sighed with disappointment. If that’s what you want to do, I hope you enjoy it.

I’ve never understood his interest in owning a saloon, but I do like the thought of helping him build one. Homer raised an eyebrow. Does that sort of work interest you?

I’ve never done nothing like that before.

Homer shrugged. Neither have I, but I reckon I’ll figure it out as I go along. With two of us thinking about it, that might be even easier.

Corrigan laughed and he took his time in replying as he considered whether this was something he wanted to get involved with. Building a saloon didn’t sound any more promising than working on the railroad, but on the other hand Homer seemed as if he’d be pleasant company and this offer of work had come after he’d done a selfless act, something he reckoned he ought to do more often now that he’d turned his back on his past.

It might be easier with two of us working on it. Corrigan held out his hand. I reckon I’ll join you and maybe it’ll be the start of something good.

On that you can rely, Homer said.

Chapter Two

It was a two-day journey to Fairmount Town, where Homer’s brother lived. That night, when they camped out around twenty miles beyond the head of the railroad tracks Homer explained what Warren intended to do.

He had bought a plot of land on the edge of the small settlement of Rosita Gulch, which would be close to the advancing railroad and be set to boom shortly. He intended to head there with his wife, Lydia, build a saloon and reap the rewards from the good times to come.

Warren had talked about doing something like this for several years and numerous times he had claimed he was close to realizing his dream only for his plans to end in disappointment. Homer had doubted that he would ever succeed, but that morning he’d received a letter from Warren explaining that everything he needed was now in place.

Homer had spent the day ruminating on whether he should trust that this time his brother wouldn’t disappoint him. Eventually he had put aside his misgivings and decided to