Devices of Shame

By B.W. Isely

Oscar Reynolds rides into Cheyenne from Texas on a cattle drive. Only in town for a few days, he meets Mary and doesn't want to leave her behind. Deciding to stay, he finds himself working for the Black Hills Stage and Express Company. The gold rush is on, and Oscar is tasked with protecting the people and gold flowing in and out of the Black Hills.

With the gold in the roots of plants, all walks of life are flocking to the area to become rich or die trying. Oscar becomes the law in a land where everyone is trying to make their fortune through any means necessary. Bandits continuously rob stagecoaches, and the law attempts to protect the lives and valuables they transport. Before he knows it, Oscar is thrust into a battle of good versus evil.

Newly married and beginning his life in the Black Hills, Oscar wants to be good in a land of sin. New mining towns are developing throughout the mountain range, and he and his new wife decide to move to the middle of it all. While all the new citizens bring shame to the land, Oscar is dealing with his own shame and a proclivity for drinking. The lines become blurred between right and wrong for him.

After personal tragedies along the trail, he feels the weight of avenging the death of a friend and suffers the shame of being unsuccessful. As Oscar begins to slip into a downward spiral of addiction, the ones he loves are pushed away by his selfish behavior. Hopeless and defeated, Oscar finds himself on the wrong side of the law, making choices that threaten to cost him everything.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fulton Books, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 4, 2023
• ISBN: 9798889822240

Book preview

Table of Contents

Title

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

About the Author

cover.jpg

Devices of Shame

B.W. Isely

Copyright © 2023 B.W. Isely

All rights reserved

First Edition

Fulton Books

Meadville, PA

Published by Fulton Books 2023

ISBN 979-8-88982-223-3 (paperback)

ISBN 979-8-88982-224-0 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Dedication

This book is dedicated to my beautiful and loving wife Alyssa, who has stood beside me and acted as my guide through the hardest of times.

Chapter 1

Every man lives with shame. It is what you do with that shame that defines you.

Oscar Reynolds was well aware of his shame as he looked down at the creek where they had stopped for the night. It wasn't much of a creek, but with the sun now below the horizon, it looked like a black hole in the prairie. Duck Creek was what Thomas called it, and everyone just took his word for it since he was the only one who had been here before while building the railroad.

Oscar spotted the fire from the camp and knew that they were making food. The team was one day's drive south of Cheyenne and happy that this enterprise was nearing its end. The crew would have some money in their pockets and time to relax in Cheyenne before the long ride back to Texas.

Oscar was as inconspicuous as you could imagine for a twenty-two-year-old. Standing at five feet, ten inches, he was sturdy—not fat but not physically fit. He was the type of man who could hold his own in a fight but not scare anyone.

Oscar was a quiet man, only talkative with the ones he knew and trusted. Growing up with a speech impediment, he commonly thought this caused his social anxieties. He did not have a stutter. Instead, he had difficulties saying certain words.

Oscar could remember as a child having to say something to an adult, and they would look at him with a questioning look as if to say, What is wrong with this kid? This caused Oscar to keep to himself, fearing the shame speaking brought him. Shyness had been his label since then, and he started to think, If they don't like the way I talk, then I just won't talk.

Oscar was also a measured man—very slow to anger and quick to forgive. Maybe it was a lack of pride that made him not start confrontations or hold grudges, but it was hard to get him riled up about things that were out of his control. He lived life with the attitude that life went on.

Oscar just thought that he did not care enough to get all upset at people, assuming everyone would get their own lot. Life was too wild for everyone, so why let someone's behavior bother him? Because of this contradiction of his shyness, people would think, How could a guy who is scared to talk to others not care what they thought or did? Truth was, Oscar just preferred to be left alone. He enjoyed nature. He enjoyed to be in nature alone, away from society.

Oscar jumped down from his horse at camp and wiped the sweat off his forehead, happy that the long day was done. Starving, he walked to the fire, set down his saddle to lean on it, and ate his meal. Most of the others were done with dinner by now, because it was his job to make sure all the cattle were round up for the night. Stew—it was again damn beef stew for the countless day in a row. There was a broth, chunks of beef, and some bread.

When I get my cut for the cattle, I'm going to eat for two days, Oscar thought.

It was John's idea to run the herd to Cheyenne, Wyoming, instead of the normal path to Kansas, his thinking being that everyone would sell in Kansas. John, Oscar's boss, was a hard man, jaded and molded by the years in the hot Texas sun. His face was also hard and pitted from that same sun.

John was the type of man to never smile, never laugh, and never make a joke. Oscar thought he was also fair, telling you when you were doing a good job. His bark was worse than his bite, Oscar supposed, as he always sounded angry but rarely was. Oscar liked John, because they had a lot in common—quiet and not caring about others' drama or personal matters.

Oscar finished his meal and lay back while putting some chewing tobacco in his lip. He thought about Cheyenne and the journey to get there. Since the railroad came through, Cheyenne had become the hub of the west. The west had always been a dream in Oscar's mind since when he was a child and his uncle came to visit. His uncle was a mountain man in the 1830s, wild and free, who spoke of the mountains and river valleys with such passion.

Oscar knew one day the mountains would be his home, but right now, he had a well-paying job and no complaints or anything to take him away from his work. He thought about when he got to Cheyenne and what he would do with his money and what he would eat.

Maybe buy a new gun, maybe pay a girl, but most definitely drink some whiskey, he thought.

It had been a week since the whiskey ran out, and all the men were ready to cut loose and have some fun.

The men in the crew were sleeping.

It's funny, Oscar thought, how without alcohol everyone does nothing but ride and sleep.

It was Stephen's night to stay on guard and make sure none of the cattle grazed too far or got spooked. When Oscar returned, Stephen dragged his feet a bit but finally mounted his horse and left to the pasture. Oscar watched Stephen ride off and was deep in thought when he heard someone talking to him. It was John, who repeated himself.

I can't wait to get back south. This vast land is so bare and boring.

With a grin, Oscar said, So is Texas.

John took out his pipe, packed in some tobacco, and began lighting it with a look of deep thought, as if contemplating Oscar's smart response.

Yeah, I suppose. They actually have some rivers and grass here, John finally said while blowing out a puff of smoke.

With a sly smirk on his face as if he was trying to poke the bear, Oscar said, During this trip, it seemed to me you've never been so talkative and in such a good mood, John.

Before taking in another hit from his pipe, John said, Well, it's nice to get away from the women from time to time and be out with men doing men's work.

Oscar pondered his words for a second, thinking it was odd that men spent their lives complaining about women, but all they ever seemed to want was a woman's touch.

I guess I just haven't had that feeling of love and companionship yet, Oscar thought.

You've been awfully quiet since the whiskey ran out.

Yeah. I suppose that's why I drink. Makes me more social.

That's a mighty crappy reason to put that poison in your body, I'd say.

Looking off into nothing as though he had forgotten he was in a conversation, Oscar said, Medicine is poison unless you take the right amount.

John rarely drank, which was queer for a rancher but was probably why he had built one of the largest ranches in all of West Texas. Oscar looked up to John as a father figure since his dad passed when he was too young to remember, and his stepdad wasn't much of a good man. John was probably the best man that Oscar ever knew, but he was aware that soon, he would need to move on from those thoughts or that type of relationship. He was getting older and didn't need to be raised. What he needed was to become his own man.

Oscar looked at John.

Seems to me you've found some peace on this journey, like maybe it'll be your last.

Think I'm retiring there, son?

No, but maybe not cattle driving anymore.

John reminded Oscar, I enjoy driving cattle. Simple work as long as everything goes to plan. And I enjoy being out on the land with the men.

Oscar spit into the grass.

Been an easy run, I suppose, even though this is really my first one.

Yeah. Can't remember easier cattle drive in my life. Weather was perfect, only really two rivers, the Red and Arkansas, to cross. I think I'll run cattle to Wyoming from now on, I've been thinking, John said, blowing out another puff of smoke.

It was a simple trip with hardly cattle lost and no large rivers to cross. There was just the one day they all had a bit of diarrhea, probably from the stew, but besides the illness and running out of alcohol, it had been a perfect trip. Oscar loved camping in the large open land, and these weren't a dangerous group of folks to spend his time with.

Thomas was an older, thin, bearded man who treated everyone the same. He would come up to you telling a joke or making an observation, not requiring a response. Oscar liked that. Too often, people thought that if you said nothing, you thought ill of them. The reality was, sometimes, he just had trouble putting words to his thoughts. They would label him mean or dumb when, in reality, he was quite intelligent and thought of everyone the same.

Thinking out loud, Oscar looked at John and said, I don't know, John. I think you seem at peace.

John looked at Oscar, took a huff from his pipe, and slowly exhaled an enormous cloud of smoke at Oscar.

I won't find peace till I'm dead, for a man at peace is a man without ambition.

John paused.

A man without ambition is dead inside.

This comment hit Oscar as negative but also gave him something to think about. Oscar smirked at John and took out his chewing tobacco.

Good night, you old grouch.

Night, he said, and they didn't speak until morning.

Oscar sat back against his saddle and tried to get comfortable. Deciding to wind his pocket watch, he took it out, looking at what time it was. As he tinkered with the watch, the same questions he had for years about the watch passed through his head.

Oscar's older brother, Will, had given him the watch the night before he left to go serve in the war. It was the last time that Oscar had seen his brother, and he often stared at the watch, dreaming of finding Will. Truth was, he didn't even know if his brother was still alive, but he always kept the hope he would see him again one day.

Oscar was seven years old when Will came into his room to say goodbye. He gave Oscar the pocket watch in secret, telling him, Always protect this watch. It will protect you. And whenever you see it, remember, I am with you.

Oscar hadn't known what to say to his brother. He hadn't understood what was happening or hadn't thought he might never see his brother again.

Oscar stared at the watch, wondering where it even came from. It was a fancy watch, far nicer than anything his family could ever have afforded. He would often wonder if it was his father's and was something that Will had inherited when he passed away. Will was ten when their father died, and he had fond memories of him.

I may never learn where the pocket watch came from, but it was valuable to Will and is to me, Oscar thought.

It was the only connection Oscar still had to his family, and he protected it with his life. He put the watch into his pocket and lay back, ready for the long day to end and drift off to sleep.

*****

Oscar woke before sunup with a chill, as the fire had gone out hours before. He lay there a little while, not wanting to start the day. Then he eventually got up and stoked the fire.

The earlier they get breakfast made, the earlier they get moving, the earlier they get to Cheyenne, Oscar thought.

After eating, all the men headed out to round up the herd and get moving. The sun was just breaking the horizon when they started off, and Oscar thought about how the mornings had the coolness of fall. Thomas assured everyone the trip today would be short. They would take Duck Creek to Lone Tree Creek and then straight north, ending up just west of Cheyenne with plenty of land to rest the cattle till they sold it.

Once they rounded up the cattle, they headed north, following the ridge above the creeks as a guide. Oscar enjoyed this time on the travel. It allowed him to be alone with his thoughts and just ride. His mind quickly went to the conversation he had with John the night before around the fire. What did he mean when he said a man without ambition was dead inside? How did finding peace lead to a lack of ambition?

Oscar decided that people can develop into the type that is at peace with his character and the life that he has lead while continuing to have ambitions. Self-doubt then crept into his mind, saying John was talking about him.

He doesn't see ambition or purpose in your behavior. Among people who know you, you have a proclivity for drinking, even when it's not for social interaction, he thought.

Quickly putting this thought out of his mind, he decided, I am lost, but I'm not dead inside.

*****

After a few hours of riding, Oscar heard John yell to stop and come ahead. When arriving at the front of the herd, they could see why.

They went to the train tracks, where Thomas was saying, The Transcontinental Railroad in all its glory. Just think of all the sacrifice for these tracks.

John looked at Thomas with amusement in his eyes and sarcastically said, Yeah, think of all the money spent by the government to make the rich richer. Oh, a glory to behold.

Old John was a Southerner and believed that the road should have come through the South, forever being a thorn in the side of a true Southerner. The controversy was still unfolding daily on the corruption of the Union Pacific while they built the railroad, leaving a sour taste in a lot of Americans' mouths. Oscar had always wondered who cared. It really didn't affect him. It was a quandary in his mind how people could be so upset about things they couldn't control or change.

After some bickering among the group, they decided that the flatland south of the tracks was a pleasant spot to hold up the cattle and wait till a deal was made. Thomas and John would go into town as the rest of the crew camped and watched the cattle. They explained how the plan was to not move, and they would be back when a deal was done.

Oscar dismounted and found some shade around the fire the men had made, having a seat next to Stephen. Stephen was the youngest in the crew and a nice enough young man about seventeen years of age. Although young, he grew a full beard and stood over six feet tall with broad shoulders. Stephen had a mean look and was the type of person you would want in your corner during a fight.

Oscar found himself envious of Stephen for looking older and stronger than himself even though he was still a child. He acted like a child also, often getting upset quickly and yelling over minor inconveniences. He was rebellious to his superiors or just to be rebellious, defying orders when he did not agree or want to do them.

One night, the crew got him drunk. He often bragged about how good of a drinker he was and how he could outdrink all of them together. All the crew got him so drunk he never wanted to drink again. He became mean, yelling and picking arguments with everyone who was simply talking. He bothered everyone so much that they watched how much he drank for the rest of the trip.

Oscar was not that type of drinker. Instead, he would loosen up, talking and becoming everyone's best friend, at least until he had too much to drink. Then all shades would come out. Oscar liked Stephen despite his faults. If nothing else, he was entertaining.

How long do you think we need to wait here? Stephen asked.

Amused by the childish question, Oscar said, Depends on how long it takes to broker a deal. Maybe a couple of days.

Stephen smiled at Oscar and asked, You guys got this for a few hours, right?

I suppose not a ton to do right now, Oscar said, wondering what he was thinking of doing.

Good. I'll be back in a few, Stephen said, then got up, mounted his horse, and rode off.

Oscar ate his lunch and then leaned up against a tree in the shade, thinking about getting caught up on rest. He dozed off.

A while later, Oscar awoke, feeling that refreshed feeling that only an afternoon nap could bring. He felt he could go get some actual work done now. What had woken Oscar was the sound of a horse riding up and Stephen dismounting. With Oscar's eyes still adjusting to the bright sun overhead, he could see that Stephen was holding something in each hand. Oscar rubbed his eyes to make out what Stephen was doing and realized what he was holding.

Oscar asked, You rascal! Where the hell did you get that?

Stephen grinned.

I ran into town and bought a few, figuring if we have to wait to cut loose in Cheyenne, we might as well get started out here.

Oscar smiled.

You know there's gonna be some hell to pay for this, don't you?

Stephen just smiled and set a bottle next to Oscar as if to say, Loosen up.

You act like you're older than John, Oscar thought.

They clanked the two bottles together and began drinking the afternoon away, waiting for John and Thomas to return with the news.

Chapter 2

John didn't know why it was a surprise to him or why he didn't see it coming. He had only left the men out in the field for one night, and this was what they did. In the cool morning air, he could already tell that the men had a drunken good time the night before.

At least they took care of the cattle, and none wandered off, he thought.

Oscar was awake when John and Thomas came rolling into camp at the first glimpse of sunlight. John told Thomas that Oscar was the smart drinker, waking early and getting to work to sweat out his hangover. All the men slowly rounded up the cattle and got ready to run them into market, as John announced he had struck a deal for the herd.

Forty-three dollars a head, John told the crew proudly, after getting the herd to Cheyenne. Oscar quickly did some math in his head. They had 2,200 cattle, so that was around $95,000.

*****

After corralling all the cattle into their pen at the edge of Cheyenne, the men were free to enjoy the town. It was about four in the afternoon, so a majority of the crew headed to the saloons. Oscar looked down the main street running through downtown and could already see Stephen with his arm around a lady, offering to buy her a drink.

Knowing it was his time to get paid, Oscar went up to John with a big smile and his hand out, asking, Ninety-five thousand divided by ten is ninety-five hundred a person, right?

John looked at Oscar's hand.

With the stunt y'all pulled last night, I shouldn't be giving you a thing.

John paused a bit after the smile fell off Oscar's face.

A deal is a deal.

A hundred dollars, Oscar thought, for all that time.

It was the most money he had ever had in his pockets. That was forty-five dollars a month. It had taken two months, and John was being nice, giving everyone an extra ten. In three days, they were heading out bright and early. John told the crew this would give them three nights to run wild in Cheyenne.

Oscar knew he wanted to buy a new gun. His Colt was showing its age, jamming half the time. It being so early in the evening, Oscar thought he would have plenty of time to party later. He marveled at downtown Cheyenne being full of people and wagons. Suddenly, he felt that he wanted to get out of the town, as it seemed like a bee's nest of activity.

Walking into the first general store he found on the main street, Oscar noticed a sign that read Guns for Sale. The shopkeeper was a tall, thin man with a top hat that made him look as if he came from the big city. Oscar was a rancher wearing a cowboy hat proudly. It kept the sun off his neck and sweat out his eyes. When entering Cheyenne, the first thing he noticed was, they were the only people wearing cowboy hats.

He could tell the shopkeeper was a salesperson. He had that way about him that told Oscar this man would trade his soul if it made him money. Oscar had a negative opinion of greed and how it made people act, with salespeople seeming the greediest to him. Oscar reminded himself that they were just trying to survive. Not having a conscience was one way to do it.

Finally, he went to the shopkeeper and asked, Is it always so crowded in this town?

Not usually, but ever since they found gold, all types of people are heading up to the Black Hills for a taste.

I didn't even know they found gold up there. I thought I heard they didn't allow whites in that area?

Well, they're not for now, and the government is telling people to stay out. But Custer's men said there's gold in the roots of plants, so much gold up there that every prospector in the country is trying to make their fortune, the man said with a smirk of annoyance at the situation.

Oscar pondered this. Gold strikes were nothing new, but prospecting gold always seemed like a lot of work for a little reward. A few would get rich, and many would die trying. The people who ended up making a decent wage and benefiting from such events were the ones supplying something. It seemed to Oscar that people who worked in the service industry were the ones who made a consistent earning during these times.

Just need to find a service, he thought.

Oscar didn't want to be taken for a sales ride, so he said firmly to the shopkeeper, I'm looking for a gun, Colt Single Action Army.

Giving Oscar a long look, the shopkeeper tried selling to him other guns that he had in stock. Then he finally showed Oscar the only two slightly used Colts he had. It disappointed Oscar since he wanted to buy a new gun. Then he decided this was only the first place he had gone. The shopkeeper used every sales trick he knew, trying to sell Oscar on ordering a new gun with a pearl handle that cost a hundred dollars.

Well, then I won't have a dime, Oscar thought.

And they couldn't get it there in time before he left for Texas anyway.

Eventually, the man said, All right, I have one more gun. It was an order, but the buyer is a week later to pick it up.

He showed Oscar the gun, and it was exactly what he wanted.

How much? Oscar asked.

After haggling for a while, Oscar got him down to thirty dollars for the gun. The shopkeeper wasn't willing to deal any lower for the gun until Oscar reminded him of the money he got as a down payment since it was an order but was not picked up. The shopkeeper and Oscar finally agreed on twenty-five, and Oscar was happy. He left the store with a new gun on his side and the excited energy of buying something he had been working for.

Oscar was roaming downtown Cheyenne for a while to see what all the hype was about when he ran into a man who was telling how he was going to get rich up in Custer City. From what Oscar could gather from all the chaos of people was that Custer sent an expedition into the Black Hills when he heard rumors that there was gold to be found. The men found gold on the French Creek and began forming a town they named Custer City.

Wondering how Cheyenne played such a role in this, Oscar asked a stranger, who explained it was the closest railroad. Everyone was coming by train to Cheyenne and taking stagecoaches up to the hills in search of gold. Cheyenne had become the staging area for the gold rush that was about to erupt. Oscar thought how funny it was that Cheyenne played a pivotal role in, first, the train business and then the cattle business and now the prospecting business.

The sun had set on the day, and Oscar decided it was time to catch up with his crew at the saloons. He remembered the crew had been out long before him, meaning he would need to either catch up or take care of them the rest of the night. While walking between saloons, looking for them, he wondered if any would be foolish and want to stay here to look for gold. Gold fever was what they called it. It could come up on a person quick and hard.

Greed, Oscar thought, is the reason for it and most things in the world. Everyone wants their chance to be rich.

After searching a few taverns with no luck in finding anyone, Oscar realized how hungry he was. He found a restaurant and decided on ordering pork. He had enough of beef for a while. Once finishing his meal, it satisfied Oscar, as he had not eaten like that since leaving home. He really had the itch to get drinking in him with a full stomach now but wondered where he would be staying the next three nights. After finding a pleasant hotel on Main Street, he paid for a room for two nights and continued searching for a familiar face.

Oscar walked into the third saloon and checked, feeling tired and thinking maybe he would just sleep and go out tomorrow. Finally, at the fourth saloon, he walked in, looked around, and heard, There's that son of a bitch that tried to take me for ten grand after only two months of work.

It was John, and he had been enjoying his earnings from their business venture. Oscar had never seen John intoxicated and actually found it unbecoming. He had always looked up to John as a superior, and to see him laughing and acting foolish surprised him. Another thing that made Oscar uneasy was the enormous smile on John's face. Oscar had never seen him smile, and it was wildly out of character.

Thomas approached Oscar, asking if he was sober. Oscar just nodded. He was nervous now in a way that shut him down inside and out. He knew he needed a drink to make this anxiety go away.

Thomas, reading his mind, got him a shot, saying, Here. Loosen up a bit.

That was one reason Oscar liked Thomas. It was like he always knew what someone was thinking or how to help them without asking. Thomas was also drunk, but that was nothing new to him. He was the type of drinking man who you couldn't tell if he had a drop or a gallon. His demeanor stayed the same.

Oscar asked where everyone was, and Thomas explained they were across the street at another saloon. He had been trying to get John to go over there, but apparently, he was a stubborn drunk. Oscar was not in the mood for drunken, stubborn people and told Thomas he would handle it. He grabbed John and pushed him out the door.

John said, What the hell is the big idea here?

We're going across the street. You're coming with.

John was now yelling in the street.

Who made you the boss of me?

The sober person makes the rules. You were about to lose your shirt in there.

Arriving at the saloon, John quickly forgot that he had changed locations and started a conversation with some people at the bar. Thomas and Oscar went and sat down with Stephen, who was drinking at a table with a look of confusion in his eyes. Stephen was drunk and in the mood for a fight.

Oscar asked Stephen, "What's