Desert Gold

Desert Gold

by E. Roy Hector
Desert Gold

Desert Gold

by E. Roy Hector

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Overview

As outlaw Jake Leach lies dying in a deserted cave, he writes a desperate letter to his brother, Tom, a US Marshal. Jake has double-crossed his boss, the violent and vindictive Quirt Evans, stealing eighty thousand dollars' worth of government-owned gold coins from his own outlaw gang in hopes of redemption.

By the time Tom Leach receives Jake's letter, Jake is dead; however, the outlaw left clues that will lead Tom to the stashed gold coins. Jake's final request is for Tom to return the coins to their rightful owner. Maybe then his soul can rest in peace. Tom has his hands full, though, keeping the peace as greedy marauders threaten new settlers in untamed land.

In order to discover Jake's lost gold, Tom must fight his way through outlaws on the wild frontier. As Jake's clues become more convoluted and Quirt's gang moves closer, Tom is forced to forget his lawman ways and act the outlaw himself. Otherwise, he'll end up dead like Jake, and his brother's last indiscretion will linger in eternity.


Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781491706183
Publisher: iUniverse, Incorporated
Publication date: 09/11/2013
Pages: 206
Product dimensions: 6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 0.44(d)

Read an Excerpt

DESERT GOLD


By E. ROY HECTOR

iUniverse LLC

Copyright © 2013 E. Roy Hector
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4917-0618-3



CHAPTER 1

OUTLAW GANG


The outlaw boss signaled a halt. His gang members reined their mounts in close to his; they were surprised at the sudden stop as the posse was closing in fast. He rarely stopped in such situations except to change plans or to vent his wrath on one or more of the unsuspecting outlaws. The gang had learned to close in around him in such situations. The boss disliked speaking in a loud voice as he was still bothered by an old bullet wound to his throat. The gang members waited patiently for the boss to speak; he took his time, then he removed his sombrero, wiped his brow, scowled, and stared back down the trail. The outlaws were anxious to put more distance between them and the posse, but none dared to question why he called the halt. Most of them feared the boss more than they feared the posse.

His animal like steel gray eyes and prominent nose, with flared nostrils, had struck stark fear in many victims. His long unkempt coal-black hair fell almost to his broad shoulders, his barrel chest and muscular arms suggested strength while his scarred face, covered with a scraggly beard, told of the many scrapes and fights he survived on his climb to his present unchallenged status of gang leader. He seldom smiled, and then when he attempted to his rotten and blackened teeth were bared and it was more a snarl than a smile. His followers knew that he did not value life except perhaps his own.

They had witnessed him shoot and kill other members of his gang for questioning his orders or failing to meet his expectations. He possessed a hair-trigger finger and temper. They knew he was fearless and would fight as long as he could draw air into his lungs. He did his own dirty work, never asked anyone to use the blacksnake or do the killings. He seemed to enjoy inflicting pain and destroying those he considered his enemies. Evans often defined 'enemies' as pilgrims that need killing. Most of those who rode with him secretly hated him; but they stayed on because they shunned work and wanted excitement, money, whiskey, and women that Quirt provided.

His reputation as a ruthless killer was known throughout the Southwest and as far north as the Indian Territory. The name Quirt Evans struck fear in the hearts of ranchers, settlers and other law abiding citizens. They lived under constant worry of the Evans gang. Some had arranged to stand twenty-four hour guard shifts to protect their families and property.

Outlaws following the Owl Hoot Trail vied to join his killer gang. He and his gang were infamously recognized as the greatest threat to peace and tranquility in the settlements. Evans picked his targets carefully, raiding the weakest with the greatest promise of loot and women to abuse. Leaving death and destruction behind was his trademark.

Now on the run, Quirt and his cutthroat gang had robbed a train up near Fort Worth and had since struggled to stay ahead of a large posse of lawmen. The outlaw's horses were blowing hard from the long arduous hours on the run in the hot sand. The chase had started several days before and the posse was relentless in its pursuit. Neither the gang nor the posse had much chance to rest. They were all exhausted. The outlaws wanted to cross the Rio Grande before the posse caught up with them. Quirt and the gang used Mexico as their safe haven.

Evans shifted his weight to one side of his saddle, staring hard at one of the outlaws, who had gunshots wounds on his left shoulder and lower right arm. Blood oozed from his shoulder. Evans spoke quietly, "Jake, you'll not make the border, and you know it. Your only chance to get well is to hole up and wait for me to return in a week. Look around, do you recognize where we are?" Jake Leach slowly raised his chin and looked around at the rising hills and mountain tops to the west. The great loss of blood was sapping his strength and will power.

Jake, a handsome fellow with cropped blond hair and blues eyes that had attracted the attention of many females was aware that Quirt Evans and most of the other outlaws resented him; but they did not dare draw on him. He had earned his reputation as a lightning fast gunslinger during battles which discouraged challenges. On the trail he chose to bring up the rear to avoid a bullet in his back. At the moment death did not seem too bad a choice. He once again, struggled to answer Evans' question. His vision was still blurred. He closed his eyes a couple of times trying to focus on Quirt. Then he managed to speak in a weak voice, "Quirt, we seem to be close to Bat Cave. Why stop now?" A question like that could get him killed. The gang waited.

Quirt Evans did not reply right away; he tried to control his temper as he had made a decision. He wanted all the gold for himself. He'd use wounded Jake Leach to make sure the gold was not divided among the gang. Jake Leach had not been with him as long as the others, but he was convinced that Jake would do as he was told. He'd be no good dead.

He replied in a half friendly tone, "Jake you can't make it unless you stop bleeding. You'll die on the trail if you don't take care of yourself."

Jake asked, "What do you want to do, stand and fight the posse?"

Quirt's temper flared again, yet he managed to say, "No, that's not to our advantage. I'm going to trust you; the penalty for disappointing me is death. We'll not make the river with the gold and you bleeding to death. The only way is for you to take the gold and hide it in the cave. The posse is getting too damn close."

The other outlaws waited restlessly, not believing what they were hearing, but too fearful to object to Quirt's plan. They wanted their share of the gold and disliked Quirt's plan.

Quirt continued, "Our only chance to escape the posse is to split up and go in different directions to the border. We'll lose too much time if we stop now to divide the gold. The posse will catch us for sure."

Jake tried not to show his pain. He said, "I don't understand how this is going to work."

The outlaw leader stared at Jake and said sharply, "It will work as I've planned. You will take the gold and hide it in the cave; wait there for me to return. Then we'll take the gold to Mexico and divide it with the gang."

Jake looked around at the hostile faces and through his dim vision asked, "Is this what the others here want?" Jake didn't care at this point if Quirt shot him. It would be a relief from his pain. Waiting for a bullet he braced his weak body.

Quirt Evans surprised all of them and smiled. He said, "Jake, I know how you got those bullet holes. You lagged behind, giving us a chance to get away. I still don't know how you got in the saddle shot up like that. Everyone trusts you and agree this is our only chance to save you and the gold." Quirt acted real friendly toward the wounded outlaw.

He paused and stared at the other outlaws. A couple of them didn't flinch. They stared back while others looked down or out to the Southwest. None wanted to die here in the desert.

Quirt continued, "Jake, we've wasted too much time talking. To save time we'll take your horse, and you get on the packhorse and take the gold to Bat Cave; it's just over that ridge to the west. You can make it. When you get to the cave, dig a hole, and bury the gold. I know you can make it, tend your wounds, and stop the bleeding." Then Quirt looked at the outlaw next to Jake and ordered, "Help him with the saddle and gear."

Jake slowly dismounted and watched while the outlaw removed his bedroll and saddle bags and placed them on the packhorse. Then the fellow without comment helped Jake mount. He was in so much pain that he barely heard Quirt when he continued, "I'll be back with one of these no-goods when we get the posse off our tails. As I said, it may be a while. We'll give you food and there's water close to the cave. Stay right there while, the boy's give you whatever they have to eat and then pad the feet of the packhorse. I don't want the posse trackers to notice that one of our horses left the trail. They will think we stopped to rest our mounts."

Quirt then looked around at the group and said in a gruff voice, "Well you heard me, get at it. Time is a wasting. I can feel that damn posse breathing down my collar." Less than three minutes later, the gang continued toward the border.

Jake Leach watched Quirt and the others until they went over a small hill and then he urged the packhorse toward the cool cave where he was told to bury the gold. As he rode toward the cave, his pain increased and he began to think he should not go to the cave; if he waited in the cave he could die before Quirt returned, and who would probably kill him on sight. That did not seem to be a good choice. No, he had to find help. Then his mind turned to years on the Owl Hoot Trail. He had made many mistakes in his life and now facing what he thought was sure death he felt remorse. He began to worry about the hereafter; he had realized for the last several years that he was living a godless life, but never felt a need to change his ways.

His life of crime had started when he left home; but now that he could see the dark side, it scared him. His troubled mind wondered why he had not thought more about all his crimes and misdeeds before now. He reasoned that since hitting the Owl Hoot Trail he had been on the run and never took the time to reflect much on his childhood, his family, nor the reasons for his life of crime. He stared out to the distant horizon and decided it was time to make amends for his crimes.

He had watched other wounded outlaws try to justify their crimes at the last moment and he had joined in poking fun and scoffing at their fears of dying. Now he thought of his only living relative that he had wrongly blamed for being forced to leave home.

He continued to meander along, still thinking about his past and remembered when he learned that his brother Tom had joined the U.S. Marshal Service he was proud of him. On hearing that Tom was a Marshal, he fervently hoped Tom would never have to face him in a final showdown. His present condition reminded him that such a meeting was highly unlikely. But had it ever happened he knew Tom would have acted to defend the law; he could never draw on Tom, he'd rather take a fatal bullet. Since Tom had joined the Marshals Service, Jake had tried to stay out of Tom's territory, sometimes playing sick and saying he was unable to ride when he knew that Quirt intended to pull off raids that might be in Tom's territory. But he'd never changed his name, as he was still proud of his family.

He could not shake the idea that it was time to do something to show Tom he was not all bad. He had to let Tom know that he was sorry that he had tarnished the reputation of the Leach family. Although he had not seen Tom in years, he felt sure he would still consider him his brother. He rode on undecided how to find help and contact Tom.

Jake had yet another reason for wanting to change his ways; he had known that the outlaw leader had planned to double-cross his gang. Jake had quietly carried the knowledge that Quirt was planning to take all the money and go to Portugal with a woman named Silvia One night last month, she came to Jake's room drunk as Quirt had decided he needed a change of female companionship and had gone to the Cantina. She was in a rage and knew he was looking for another girl. She also knew he would not be back before sunrise. She was very talkative and threatened not to go with him to Portugal. Jake was smart enough to hold his tongue and not comment. He helped her back to her room, hoping that she would not remember saying anything about going to Portugal. Before he closed her door, she was sprawled on top of the sheets, legs spread, snoring.

Jake remembered that Quirt was planning to cheat him and all the other outlaws of their fair share of the gold. It made him angry and regretted not telling the other gang members of Quirt's intention to cheat them. He had already decided that if Quirt found him alive at the cave, he'd take the gold and kill him immediately.

Then his mind flashed back to the train robbery; he recalled that the guard on the train told Quirt that there was more than eighty thousand dollars of government gold coins in the safe. That was seconds before Quirt shot the guard between his eyes. Well to hell with him, Quirt would not find this eighty thousand. Jake looked at his back trail searching for signs of the posse. He was now on the west side of the hill and decided to find a place where he could see the posse if it passed the spot where Quirt had called a halt. He noticed that since he had not been riding so fast, his bleeding had stopped, but the pain had increased. He took a small sip of water. His senses seemed to be clearing up.

He could not shake the vision of Tom, his older brother. Jake again felt that his time on this good earth was severely limited. Now he did not really think that getting medical help would save him, but he grasped at the hope it would. He suddenly decided he must live to get word to his brother Tom about the gold and try to set the record straight. Now was the only time he might have to do something that would relieve his deep sense of guilt. He reasoned that he had not been pushed into a life of crime. He said to himself, 'hell, it's all my own doing; I've always had a wild streak; but I'm finished with the Owl Hoot Trail. If the good Lord lets me live, I'll go west and work with the settlers.' It then flashed through his mind, that it might be too late to go west or make amends with Tom. He decided, live or die, he had to get a letter to Tom. He was now desperate.

He remembered that horrible morning when he arrived home to face his pa after several days of drunkenness. He had spent the twenty-one dollars that he took from the fruit jar his family kept to get thorough unexpected hardships. He knew at the time it was wrong and that his pa had worked hard to put away a few dollars that not even he would touch unless someone's life depended on spending it. His pa met him in the yard and ordered him to leave and never come back. Tom had tried to talk his pa into letting him stay. But Jake could see the controlled rage his pa carried and knew then that he had to leave.

In the beginning, on the Owl Hoot Trail, he had tried to justify taking the family money, but he always came back to the realization that it was pure selfishness and lack of love and respect for his family. Then after awhile and a few gunfights, the feeling of deep guilt disappeared. He began to enjoy riding the Owl Hoot Trail with rustlers and other bad hombres and having enough money to enjoy being with the saloon girls.

Jake wanted to conserve his strength so that he could improve his chances of making it to Tincup. He found a clump of mesquite bushes where he could see the posse if it showed up. He then tried again to stop the bleeding by using dirt to cover the wound that was bleeding the most. It helped somewhat. Jake decided to write a letter to Tom and tell him about the gold. He searched his saddle bags and found a stub-pencil and some wrinkled paper. He settled down in the partial shade of the small bushes to rest. Jake then painfully started the letter to Tom.

A little while later he was roused from a short nap by one of those miracles that appear in the deserts; a thunder and lightning storm was forming right over the area. The rain fell in great drops and brought a cool wind that helped to revive his strength and will power. Jake scrambled to protect the letter he had started to Tom. He swiftly placed it in his leather saddle bag. The cool rain made him feel much better.

He was about to start out again when he saw the posse. The riders were going slow and did not seem to even look at the ground where the gang had stopped briefly. Riding with their heads covered with slickers trying to avoid the rain, they were not looking for tracks, but going in the direction they thought the outlaws had taken. As they passed, he waited several minutes to make sure there were no stragglers and then he crawled most of the way back to his horse tied to small cactus. It seemed the storm was gone in minutes, leaving the steaming sand and the searing heat from the returning sun. He was careful not to do anything that might cause his wounds to start bleeding again.

During the wait for the posse to pass, among other mixed thoughts, his mind continued to search for a way to make sure his letter reached Tom. He decided his only chance was to make it to Tincup and mail his letter. He was not sure where to send the letter, as all he knew was from a fragment of a newspaper that had a story about Tom. The Abilene Newspaper had high praise for the brave and fearless actions of Marshal Tom Leach. The article allowed that only a dedicated lawman could breakup the outlaw gangs and bring the killers to justice. They said Laredo citizens could walk the streets and sleep better at night because of the Marshal's bravery. A letter would be his only hope of telling Tom where to find the gold.

Well, Pa would have been pleased with at least one of his sons. He tried to think back when he heard that his pa had died of the fever. More than three years he guessed.
(Continues...)


Excerpted from DESERT GOLD by E. ROY HECTOR. Copyright © 2013 E. Roy Hector. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse LLC.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Table of Contents

Contents

Prologue....................     ix     

Chapter 1 Outlaw Gang....................     1     

Chapter 2 The Letter....................     17     

Chapter 3 Vicious Attack....................     35     

Chapter 4 Death Trail....................     45     

Chapter 5 Blood Thirst....................     68     

Chapter 6 Treachery....................     81     

Chapter 7 Captured....................     101     

Chapter 8 Killers Return....................     114     

Chapter 9 The Ransom....................     124     

Chapter 10 Lazy S Defenders....................     136     

Chapter 11 The Ride Home....................     148     

Chapter 12 Bat Cave....................     156     

Chapter 13 The Chase....................     175     

Epilogue....................     191     

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