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December
Five years later
Arrow Rock, Kansas
Rebecca glanced out of the train window at the little depot in Arrow Rock. It was as tiny as a pocket handkerchief, and it was so new the paint and brass lamps practically sparkled. But it was a sign of progress in the little town, a rebirth that lifted her spirits.
It was Christmas time, and the skies were gray and leaden. Tiny flakes of snow were beginning to fall and collect on the gray depot roof.
She looked down at the toddler on her lap, her little daughter Alice, and pointed at the porters as the bustled around outside. “Look, baby,” she murmured. “We’re in Arrow Rock! We’ll be seeing your Uncle Pat and your cousin Jack soon.”
Alice stuck her chubby fist in her mouth and stared at the sights in wide-eyed wonder. Sam was sitting in the seat opposite hers, and he grunted an objection as their four-year-old son Samuel climbed over him to get a better look.
They’d told him all the stories of his Uncle Pat’s exploits that they could decently tell a small boy, and Samuel was afire to see his uncle, the man who hunted outlaws.
“I want to see Uncle Pat!” he declared.
“He won’t be meeting us at the station, Samuel,” she reminded him gently. “He sent us a telegram, remember? But we’ll go to see him at his grocery store. Maybe he’ll give you a stick of candy.”
Samuel lit up at the prospect, and a porter appeared at the head of the car. “Arrow Rock! Arrow Rock station!” he called. “The train will be leaving in fifteen minutes!”
Sam hoisted their son and carried him out. Rebecca followed with Alice in her arms, and they strolled out of the depot and into the new Arrow Rock in wonder.
“Look, Sam,” she gasped, and pointed. “Pa’s cabin is gone. They’ve put a dock on the riverbank now. Look how big it is! And look how high the river has come up! I wonder if boats can navigate this stretch now.”
Her question was answered as they watched. A big flat-bottomed boat glided down the river toward waiting workers on the dock. Wagons full of heavy sacks sat in readiness.
“Pat wrote us about it, remember?” Sam murmured. “They bag up sand from the river bottom and sell it to mortar and plaster companies.” He glanced at the smooth face of the river. “I guess all that digging deepens the channel.”
They moved on down the main street, and to her surprise, it was twice as long. There was new construction everywhere: a brick courthouse was surrounded by scaffolding, the saloons had been torn down to make way for new shops and cafes. To her surprise, there were professional shingles among them: a doctor’s office, a law firm, a small shipping office for river traffic. All of the churches were reopened, bright as a new penny, and festooned with wreaths and bows.
They found the Coleman Mercantile square in the middle of town. The building looked nothing like it had when they’d left. It was painted a dark green with pale yellow trim around all the windows and doors. The front doors were gleaming oak, the windows sparkled, and the steps leading up to the entrance were so new they still smelled of fresh wood. They paused at the foot to look up at it, and Rebecca and Sam exchanged a long silent look before they climbed up to enter the store.
They found the interior lit up with dozens of lamps and glittering with holiday displays. A big Christmas tree covered in popcorn string sat square in the middle, and as soon as they opened the door, the smell of gingerbread and candy rolled out. A pleasant hum of voices, too, because the store was full of shoppers.
Sam leaned toward her to whisper, “Looks like Pat’s doing great! Where do you think we can find him in all this crowd?”
Rebecca scanned the glowing room and didn’t see him. But she did spy another familiar face, and she smiled and slipped through the crowd, up to the big, gleaming counter.
A tall blonde boy was clerking the front counter. He was just into his teens, but he was enough like the eight-year-old boy she remembered that Rebecca smiled and hurried up to greet him.
“Jack!”
She set Alice down on the counter long enough to lean over it to hug Jack’s neck. His arms went around her, and she laughed to see his face go red.
“Why, you’re shooting up so fast I hardly knew you,” she teased. “You’re getting to be a young man.”
Sam leaned over the counter to offer his hand, and Jack shook it shyly. “Good to see you, boy.” He gestured to the children. “Meet your cousins. This is Samuel, and this is Alice.”
Jack’s face went even redder. “They’re sure cute,” he nodded, and took off his apron. “Let me get out from behind this counter so I can say hello.”
He walked out to greet them, and Sam knelt down beside their son to point up at Jack. “Look Samuel,” he murmured. “This is your cousin Jack. The one we told you about.”
Samuel’s eyes grew as wide as saucers, and he stared at Jack as if he was more than human. “Wow,” he gasped.
Jack reached out and took Alice from her arms. “Pat’s not here right now,” he told them. “He’s at home. I’ll take you there.”
Rebecca raised her brows in surprise. “You mean you don’t live over the store?”
Jack sputtered. “No, we moved out two years ago,” he replied, and much to Samuel’s approval, gave both children a candy cane. “The store manager lives here now. Follow me.”
They followed him out of the store, down the steps, and on to the edge of town. It was four blocks longer than it used to be, and they passed the news sheriff’s office on the way. To Rebecca’s hearty approval, and surprise, the old one had been torn down and a new one had been built across the street, a two-story brick painted a sparkling white. The site of the old office was an open meadow now, quickly being covered by fresh snow.
Jack led them almost to the end of town, and both she and Sam stopped dead in the road to see the place Jack turned into. He paused midway up the walkway to look over his shoulder.
“This is it.”
The house he was making for was a mansion, a three-story red brick with thick white columns on the porch, ceiling high windows, and a front door gleaming with polished wood and brass. They stared at it, and then at each other.
“What on earth?” Rebecca gasped, and then giggled. “Oh, Sam, I hope he didn’t hold up a train!”
Sam sputtered, then covered his mouth with his hand. “Behave yourself, Becky,” he replied, but slid an arm around her waist and chuckled as they followed up the wide steps.
* * * * *
Pat pulled the curtains back and watched as Jack came up the walkway, carrying a little girl in his arms. An attractive young couple followed, and the man was leading a little boy by the hand.
He had to look twice to recognize Sam and Becky. Sam wasn’t the whip-lean cowboy he remembered. He’d filled out a little in the neck and shoulders. Becky was pretty as ever, just a little rounder here and there. They weren’t dressed fancy, but their clothes were smart and looked new. Becky even had a ribboned hat and a matching jacket and skirt.
His eyes drifted down to the little girl. She was the spit and image of Becky at that age. The boy was blonde and looked just like Sam.
He smiled and let the curtain fall as a compelling voice yanked him back to the present. A trio of smiling businessmen were sitting at the table in his study, drinking his best bourbon and trying to get him to run for mayor.
“What do you think of our proposal, Pat? We’re ready to back you. Just say the word.”
He turned to face them. It wasn’t as hard to do that anymore. He had a closet full of the best prosthetic legs that money could buy. He smiled and shook his head.
“Sorry, gents, we’ll have to take this up some other time. My family’s just arrived for Christmas. I’ll have to talk to you later.”
“That’s all right, Pat,” the foremost replied, and they all drained the glasses before rising. “Take your time. Tell your people hello for us.”
They walked up to shake his hand, and he escorted them to the door. He watched as they descended the big staircase, and Jack passed them on his way up.
Jack walked into the room carrying the little girl, but before he could open his mouth Becky rushed past them and threw herself on his chest. She flung her arms around his neck and shrieked with joy.
Pat caught her neatly and cracked a smile. “It’s good to see you, Becky,” he murmured, and endured a kiss on the cheek. “All right, now.” He took her by the shoulders and put her at arms’ length. “Well, don’t you look flossy! And who are these little ones with you?”
Jack bounced the little girl on his hip. “This is Alice,” he replied, and Pat reached out briefly to touch her golden curls.
Sam stepped up. “This is our son Samuel. He couldn’t wait to meet you. We told him about you.”
“Well,” Pat rumbled, as he looked down at the awestruck little boy. “Santa came by early to our place. Let’s see what he left.” He crossed the room to open the far door, and they followed him into the adjoining room. There was a massive Christmas tree in the center of it, covered in candles and ribbons, and presents tumbled over one another beneath its massive branches.
The little boy gasped audibly, and Becky moved up to put a hand on his arm. “I hope you haven’t gone overboard, Pat,” she whispered, and he raised an eyebrow.
“I do what I please, Becks,” he told her, and turned to the kids. “I think Santa brought some presents for Samuel and Alice,” he announced. “And Becky and Sam.” The little boy rushed for the presents, but Becky looked distressed. “You did go overboard, Pat.”
But he just pulled a cigar out of his jacket and nodded toward the tree. She smiled and joined Sam as they picked boxes out from under it.
Pat turned to Jack, who was hanging back. “Go ahead and get your presents, son. You have some under there. I couldn’t fit most of them under the tree, though,” he grunted, and Jack’s ears pricked up as he added, “You’ll get them tomorrow.”
“Wait, what?”
Pat reached for a chair and sank into it. He watched as the kids gleefully opened boxes full of dolls and trains and all manner of jimcracks. Becky gasped and put a hand to her mouth as she opened a little box with a pearl necklace and earring set nestled in black velvet. Sam stood staring at an envelope stuffed with enough money to stake him in a business, if he wanted it.
Sam shook his head and drifted over to sink into a chair beside him. “Pat, I—I can’t take this much money. You’re real generous, but—”
“I figure it this way,” Pat muttered. “We all brought Willy Bell down, but I was the only one to get the reward because I was a bounty hunter and had a name. But you and Becky did just as much as I did. Maybe more. That’s half of the reward I got. Go ahead and take it. You earned it.”
Sam glanced at him, then nodded. “All right, Pat. If you want it that way. I don’t know how to—”
Becky interrupted them as she walked up and leaned down to press another kiss on his brow. “Pat, I don’t know what to say except thank you.”
Pat cleared his throat, “No sense carrying on,” he grunted.
She glanced around at the big room. “Your home is beautiful,” she marveled. “And Arrow Rock looks so good I hardly recognize it.” She smiled a bit. “If I’d known you’d do so well as a grocer I would’ve taken it more seriously when you told me you were buying a store.”
Pat shook his head. “I didn’t get this by being a grocer. It was the railroad. When it came to town, everything just boomed here. My mercantile tripled its sales with all the people moving in. I built up a nest egg, and I decided to invest it. I bought shares in a silver mine out in Colorado, and it came in big. Some little town up in the mountains. Leadville.”
He came to himself and added, “I know you’re all hungry after your trip. Let’s go have dinner.” He waved to Jack. “Why don’t you show everybody into the dining room? I’ll be in directly.”
Sam rose to get the children, but Becky lingered. “You haven’t opened your presents,” she reminded him. “This one is from me.”
She handed him a pretty package and turned to follow Sam and Jack out of the room. Pat let them get outside, then opened the box.
It was an ornate scrapbook, and when he opened it, he found that every page was covered with newspaper articles about him. They went back for years, all the way back to his first days as a bounty hunter. He frowned as he read a little note tucked into the pages.
Dear Pat,
You never knew it, but I kept a scrapbook of everything that ever got written up about you. I was so proud of you then, and even more proud now. We’ve told Samuel every story we can about you, and he thinks you hung the moon. Well, so do I.
Merry Christmas, brother. I hope you’re as happy as you deserve to be.
Love,
Becky.
Pat looked up, cleared his throat, and closed the book.
It was a strange world. There were plenty of better men than him around, men far more deserving and upright.
But none of them were luckier, and he’d decided to just be happy with that.
Jack appeared in the doorway. “Everybody’s at the table, Pa.”
Pat nodded. “Coming.” He stood up, took Jack’s shoulder, and went to join his family.
OFFER: A BRAND NEW SERIES AND 2 FREEBIES FOR YOU!
Grab my new series, "Guns and Justice in the West", and get 2 FREE novels as a gift! Have a look here!
Hey everyone! I hope you enjoyed my new western adventure story as well as my extended epilogue! Let me know what you think below.
Great story I enjoyed reading it! Man with a peg leg unlikely hero but a good one! Thanks cowboy
Thank you! Yeah, it is unlikely, but I think that a man who has lost everything is the most dangerous opponent ever. Glad you enjoyed this.
its a great story well written with just the right amount of twists + turns, with some unexpected.. Keep up the great writing..
Glad you enjoyed it! I do try to add some unexpected twists and turns, and I’m happy to know some were indeed unexpected!