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

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.

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.

Toby took the conductor’s hand as he stepped from the train in the dark night unsure of why his mother had sent him away. The conductor had his travel bag in his hand and Toby looked at the shadowy, unlit buildings as he was led down the street. After five minutes, the conductor guided him to a bench on the boardwalk of the sleeping town, then left his bag on the bench with him. “Now, son, I gotta leave you here. You stay there until the sheriff comes and he’ll find your aunt for you. Okay?”

After the final battle of the Civil War, Confederate Sergeant Travis Kane rode his Yankee horse away from Palmito Ranch to return to his ranch in Uvalde County. As he began the two-hundred-and-fifty-mile ride across West Texas, Travis was grateful for surviving the long, bloody war without being wounded. But now that the fighting was over, his biggest concern was for his young wife because he hadn’t received a letter from Lillian in almost two years.

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.

Ada was angry as she prepared to go to see Mike Bergman, knowing he was doing nothing less than trying to steal their silver mine, and even though she knew that she, Elsa and Bridgette had little chance of standing against him much longer, she wasn’t about to give in. But even as she began that long ride down from the mining camp, a silver coin was being tossed into the air a few miles away that would change everything.

After he and Garth had built the A-G Connected, Al thought that he’d fulfilled his dream by owning a horse ranch. But when Garth announced that he was going to get married, Al knew that he would only be in the way, so he decided to find his own place. It was after he found his new ranch almost a hundred miles south of the A-G that things changed dramatically, and he realized that just starting a ranch and raising horses wasn’t a dream at all, and it would take a nightmare to discover what that dream truly was.

Clara was angrier than she’d ever been before. But even her fury took second place to her deep frustration. They’d murdered her first husband as a warning to the others. Then six months later, after she’d convinced her second husband to join her crusade against the town’s corruption, he’d been shot in the head to put an end to her editorials. They thought she’d pack up and leave Cottonwood, but she refused to give up or back down. Two weeks ago, Clara had wired the Arizona territorial governor in Prescott, hoping he would send help. But now, those hopes were gone.

As Dylan talked to Gwen, he told her how he felt that some of the more important stories of the first two generations needed to be passed on to the younger Evans.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Luke Scott just needed to track down some rustlers.The biggest question he had as he rode form his ranch was what kind of idiot rustles cattle in Colorado in December? Three hours later, as he tried to find his way to safety in a howling blizzard, just staying alive was much more important. It was what he found when seeking emergency shelter that would alter his life forever.

Aaron hadn’t been caught by surprise by the early arrival of the Nebraska blizzard in November, so after hunkering down for the night to wait out the snow and gale-like winds, he set out in the predawn to resume his trek across the plains to get to his ranch. While he may not have been surprised by the storm, he was soon stunned by what he discovered on the frozen ground southwest of Scotts Bluff.

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.

Grip was buried in one of his textbooks when his roommate entered and told him that the dean of students needed to speak to him. As he strode across the University of Michigan’s campus, he couldn’t recall any recent infractions that might have triggered the summons, but he soon learned that it wasn’t a question of anything he had done. The dean informed him that his father had been murdered in a hideous fashion in St. Louis. When Grip left Ann Arbor, he wasn’t returning to seek vengeance on those who had killed his father.

Eighteen-year-old Garrett Shaw and his father spotted the rustlers and pulled their Winchesters. They kept their muzzles pointed away from the three men who were stealing eight steers from their small ranch to give them a chance to leave peaceably. When they started throwing lead, Garrett and his father began returning fire. Garrett hit one of the rustlers just as his father’s horse went down. Hours later, as the doctor examined his father’s injury, Garrett knew that it was now his responsibility to provide for his crippled father, mother, and sisters.

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.