Showing results by author "C.J. Petit" in All Categories

In his haste to escape a scalding death, the engine operator panicked and fell. Dylan lifted his heavy shovel as high as his 12-year-old arms could manage and swung at the thundering machine. It could've killed him, but he had to try. As the shovel’s steel head slammed into the machine, it set in motion a series of events that would shape his entire life.

Bryn felt sickened as he felt the ground shake, knowing that one of the two shafts had collapsed. Now, he stood in the pump room and watched the two thrumming pumps as they pulled water out of the deep mines. He knew that one of them would strain when the water became fouled with coal dust and debris from the collapse, and if it was pump number two, it would mean that his father and older brothers were probably dead.

Chicken Charlie was being shut out by the town and didn't know why. No one would buy her eggs or chickens. Then Ben Arden arrived in town, and suddenly chickens were the least of her concerns.

Doctor Turnbull had estimated that Kyle's mother had six months to live - that was three months ago. He felt guilty for playing a game as she suffered back at their small excuse for a house. She had insisted and knew that it was important to her that he spend time outside of the mechanized hell where he spent 60 hours a week earning his meager pay that kept food on the table and paid the rent. She had lost so much weight and was only able to tolerate a weak broth now, so he didn’t believe it would be that long.

Bethan listened as her father explained to her mother the mission that he was giving to her brother, Lynn, and her Uncle Bryn. After she’s heard all of the details, she left the big house and returned to her small house where she began to pack. She was frustrated at being unable to apply the skills that she’d been learning from her father since she was just a young girl, knowing that if she’d been born male, she would have been sworn in as a deputy marshal within a year.

Lynn glared at Ryan Mitchell and wanted to smack his smug face. Even though Ryan meant to insult him, Lynn knew that there was a very good chance that what he said was right. He’d suspected for years now that Dylan Evans wasn’t his real father. It didn’t take a math wizard to figure out that he’d been born nine months after his mother had been rescued from Fort Benton.

Cole Turner left the Rocking T that morning to spend a couple of days with his brother and niece in Garden City. It was supposed to be a time of relaxation after having spent a few days moving those cattle to market. Any thought of quiet time vanished when he opened the door to his brother’s house.

Sergeant Ellis White had the Yankee colonel in the crosshairs of the Amadon telescopic sight on the J.F. Brown sniper rifle and knew his index finger just had to squeeze the trigger, but he paused. He hadn’t wanted to be the regimental sniper in the first place because he thought it was a cowardly way of fighting. Ellis had been fighting in this war since the beginning and was tired of it. He just wanted to go back to his ranch in Hardeman County just two hundred miles away and return to his life as a rancher where all he had to worry about was the Texas heat, ornery cattle and the Comanches.

Private Jake Elliott was apprehensive as he walked to the commander’s office. He couldn’t think of a single transgression that would have attracted the major’s attention. When he left the command building 10 minutes later, he was still numbed by the short visit. Tomorrow, he would no longer be a cavalryman, but would be returning to the family ranch outside of Fort Benton in Montana Territory. But it was the reason he was being discharged before his enlistment expired that had been the biggest shock.

Bounty hunters were generally viewed as little better than the men they hunted. Ted Shepard usually didn't pay any mind to what others thought. He was good at what he did. But now, he was trailing a body to his hometown of Wilmore. He might change his mind.

Susanna stared at her father’s body on the floor, his life’s blood still pooling near his head. She’d murdered her own father, and even as she stepped slowly away from the horror, knew that there was more terror in her future. Soon, a man with a badge would come through that door, arrest her, and then they’d slide a black hood over her head, and she’d plunge into cold darkness before her receiving her final, eternal sentence.

Fifteen-year-old Joe Beck wasn’t listening as the minister eulogized his uncle but was already planning on what he would have to do as soon as they returned to the Quimby farm. He wasn’t welcome there even before his uncle had died and knew that his cousin John would soon order him to leave. While he had had a basic idea of where he would go after he left the farm, he didn’t know what he would do with the rest of his life.

Max could fix anything that had moving parts., but he couldn't fix what sent him to prison for five years. Now, he was back home and had to fix a lot more than machines, and found it was almost impossible to repair people that didn’t want to be fixed.

He never looked back as he made his way through the gaslit streets without a penny in his pockets and no place to sleep. He should have been crushed by his desperation, but it was his anger and hate that drove him. He would use the one skill he had learned in those empty years that he now left behind him. He would enter the world of bareknuckle fighting and have to face older, stronger men to make his way in this hard world. He may be nothing, but he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

Morgan was meeting with an important client in his well-appointed law office in San Antonio when his clerk tapped on the door and entered without waiting for a reply. Morgan didn’t mind as he expected Jim Cooper had a good reason for the interruption.

Mack Smith had left his shop in Pueblo and was just an hour or so from reaching his brother’s ranch for his annual visit when he felt the bullet slam into his head, and when his eyes finally opened, he found himself flat on his back on the bottom of a ravine. What the hell had happened? He was only a gunsmith, not a gunfighter.

When the postal inspector in Carson City discovered a counterfeit one-dollar bill, he notified the Secret Service. That was why they’d been created just a decade earlier. Secret Service Agent Sean Brady was assigned to the case and prepared to make the day-long train ride from Ogden to start his investigation. Before he left, he was presented with a minor mystery by the Union Pacific freight manager that had nothing to do with counterfeiting.

This was supposed to be a journey to find his dream of starting his own spread. As he left the Bar L just northwest of Cheyenne and rode south into Colorado, Conn already knew where he wanted to build his ranch and had enough money to buy the land and get it started. It was just a hundred mile ride through open country. What could possibly go wrong?

Sixteen-year-old Henry was ejected from the enormous St. Martin ranch and told never to return, or he would be shot on sight. He vowed to return and seek revenge against the entire family. When he finally returned, it wouldn’t be as Henry St. Martin, it would not be as a 16-year-old boy seeking justice for his mother, but as a hardened lawman with the name of Alex Paine.

Doc Holt listened to the boys at the other end of the bunkhouse as they joked about the night’s excitement, and he felt sick. What they were doing bothered him. Why they were doing it bothered him. But most of all, why he wasn’t doing anything to stop it bothered him.