Jed Harker Rides Out E-Book

Simon Webb

• Herausgeber: Robert Hale Fiction
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

Jed Harker wishes for nothing more than to mind his own business while travelling north to Kansas. In the summer of 1861 though, men and women were taking sides all across the United States and Harker finds himself compelled to declare where he stands on slavery. The result is that he finds himself fleeing through the Indian Nations; helping a family of escaping slaves to freedom. With war about to break out, it will be a race against time for Harker and his wards, as they become embroiled in the opening shots of the War Between the States.

Leseprobe

Jed Harker Rides Out

Jed Harker wishes for nothing more than to mind his own business while travelling north to Kansas. In the summer of 1861, men and women were taking sides all across the United States and Harker finds himself compelled to declare where he stands on slavery. The result is that he finds himself fleeing through the Indian Nations, helping a family of escaping slaves to freedom. With war about to break out, it will be a race against time for Harker and his wards as they become embroiled in the opening shots of the War Between the States.

By the same author

Comanche Moon

Badman Sheriff

Showdown at Parson’s End

A Town Called Innocence

Writing as Harriet Cade

The Homesteader’s Daughter

Pony Express

The Marshal’s Daughter

Saddler’s Run

Teacher with a Tin Star

Writing as Fenton Sadler

Snake Oil

Assault on Fort Bennett

The Vigilance Man

Writing as Brent Larssen

The Vindicators

Fool’s Gold

The Forgiveness Trail

Writing as Ethan Harker

Jordan’s Crossing

Chilcot’s Redemption

Incident at Confederate Crossing

Writing as Jay Clanton

Saloon Justice

Quincy’s Quest

Land of the Saints

Writing as Jack Tregarth

Blood for Blood

Chisholm Trail Showdown

Kiowa Rising

Writing as Jethro Kyle

Invitation to a Funeral

Fugitive Lawman

Writing as Clyde Barker

Long Shadows

The Last Confession of Rick O’Shea

Writing as Bill Cartwright

McAllister’s Last Ride

Gunfight at Hilton’s Crossing

McAndrew’s Stand

Writing as Ed Roberts

Archer’s Luck

The Rattlesnake Code

Jed Harker Rides Out

Simon Webb

ROBERT HALE

© Simon Webb 2018

First published in Great Britain 2018

ISBN 978-0-7198-2839-3

The Crowood Press

The Stable Block

Crowood Lane

Ramsbury

Marlborough

Wiltshire SN8 2HR

www.bhwesterns.com

Robert Hale is an imprint of The Crowood Press

The right of Simon Webb to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him

in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

All rights reserved. This e-book is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 1

It was a bright, clear morning in the early spring of 1861 and Jed Harker, having shaken the dust of Arkansas from his feet, was riding north to Missouri. Things had not worked out as well for Harker as he might have hoped and he had determined to make a fresh start of it in the north. Everywhere he looked, there were signs of a growing siege mentality on the part of those living in the southern states and this went hand in hand with a mistrust and dislike of Yankees such as himself. It was this, as much as anything else which had impelled him to head north. Although very far from being an ardent abolitionist, Harker had seen enough of the institution of slavery over the last few years to convince him that it was not to his taste. The longer he lingered in the south, the more distasteful he found the manifestations of the system; men and women being treated as chattels and goods, rather than as fellow beings. Harker thought how glad he would be to leave such a sorry and unnatural state of affairs behind him.

So bound up was Harker in his own thoughts, as he trotted the mare along a rocky defile which gradually opened out into a broad plain, that he did not take as much heed of his immediate surroundings as was usually the case. Had he been paying just a little more attention to the road ahead and the view on either side, then he would perhaps have noticed that somebody was about to fire on him. As it was, he had just caught sight of a wagon or cart standing by the side of the track, about a hundred yards ahead of him, when there came the crack of a rifle and a musket ball passed so close to his head that he heard it droning by like a hornet. He reined in and made no move which could be interpreted as being hostile. It was as plain as a pikestaff that somebody had the drop on him and all that he could do was bide his time and see what chanced next. What he could not, in his wildest imaginings, have expected to happen was what actually did next occur; a woman’s voice called out, confident and sharp, ‘Throw down any weapon you’re a carrying of, or ’fore God I’ll kill you at once!’

‘I only got my pistol,’ Harker shouted back. ‘I set a store by it and I’d as soon as not dash it to the ground.’ As he bellowed these words, he peered over to where he supposed the woman was hiding, which was a stand of pines, surrounded by scrubby bushes. It was perhaps forty or fifty yards away. He couldn’t see anybody, but knew that whoever was hidden there could surely see him. That shot had been a mite too close for comfort.

‘You love that gun o’ your’n more’n your life, then just you carry on down that road and see where it gets you,’ came the reply. ‘Drop it or you’re dead.’

Jed Harker was possessed of a powerful instinct for self-preservation which had served him well during the thirty-two years of his life and he sensed that if he didn’t cooperate, then there would be no further parlaying. He would end up with an ounce of lead through his brains. Very slowly and carefully, he lifted the Navy Colt from where it was tucked casually into his belt and dropped it in the dirt.

Harker had no idea what sort of woman might have been drawing down on him. He supposed that it might be some rough-looking cracker or the wife of a mountain-man. The person who emerged from the undergrowth though looked more like a school teacher. She walked towards him, with a rifle held at high port; ready for instant action. When she was close enough to speak without raising her voice, the woman, who was perhaps five years younger than Harker himself, said, ‘Your friends are dead and ’less you do as you’re bid, you’re apt to fetch up the same way. You follow my meaning?’

‘Well now, I don’t rightly understand you,’ said Harker, ‘I’ve no friends hereabouts as I know of. Happen you’ve mistook me for another?’

There was silence, as the woman weighed Harker’s words. She was a hard one to read and it would not much have surprised him if this stranger had suddenly raised her gun and shot him down like a dog. She did nothing of the sort but said instead, ‘Not a half hour since, five men rode down on us and there was shooting. Two of them was killed and so too was my friend, who lies over by yon wagon. Do you take oath and swear you had no part of this?’

‘Ma’am, I left Gordon’s Landing not three hours since. I was helping run the livery stable there ’til the back end of last week. Why I’d want to bushwhack you out here is somewhat of a mystery to me.’

‘You’re a Yankee?’

‘Then what? Yes, I’m from New York.’

‘I guess that lets you out of the cart then, for those as ambushed us was southrons through and through.’

The woman bent down and picked up Harker’s pistol. Still holding her own weapon one-handed – but in a capable way, as though she could bring it up and fire quick enough should need arise – she reached up to where Harker sat astride his horse, offering him the pistol hilts first. She said, ‘You can go. Sorry for firing on you. I was spooked.’

Harker smiled slightly and said, ‘Judging from your shooting, I wouldn’t have said you was spooked none. I’ll warrant you could’ve taken me down in a second, had you been minded to do so.’

‘That’s nothing to the purpose. The day’s wearing on and I’ve work to do, even if you’ve not.’

‘You got grit and that’s a fact,’ said Harker admiringly. ‘Still and all, maybe I can help. Not that I don’t reckon as you can proceed well enough under your own steam. You’re bound for Missouri?’

The young woman said nothing for a few seconds and Harker had the impression that two opposing impulses were contending for mastery in her breast. At length, she said, ‘Truth is, I got a difficulty. You know aught of wagonry?’

‘Like I said, I was helping run the livery stable over in Gordon’s Landing. I reckon I know more than the next man about wagons and stages. Why?’

‘In the flight from those villains as was chasing us, there’s some mischief been wrought to my wagon. Like as not, it’s a simple enough matter to remedy, but I’m blessed if I know what wants doing to it.’

‘You want I should take a look?’

She shrugged. Jed Harker chuckled and said, ‘You’re a rare charmer and no mistake. You answer to any name or is that a secret?’

‘Tyler. Abigail Tyler.’

‘Which d’ye prefer as I should call you, Abigail or Miss Tyler?’

‘I don’t give a damn what you call me. You think you’re at a barn dance or some such, sweet-talking some silly little girl? If you can aid me with that wagon, I’ll be obliged. Otherwise, you can take yourself off.’

Shocked to hear such language from a woman, Harker suffered the mare to walk on in the direction of the wagon. The woman walking at his side said nothing more and seeing as she’d made it pretty plain that she’d no use for idle chatter, he too remained silent.

When they came nigh to the wagon, Harker dismounted and went over to see what the problem might be. He saw at once that there were two corpses lying nearby. He said to Abigail Tyler, ‘Afore I mix myself up in this affair, you mind telling me who these men are and how they died?’

For a moment, she looked as though she was on the verge of telling him to go to the devil, but it was obvious that she needed his assistance if she were to be able to continue her journey. She said briefly, ‘This man is, was, my business partner. T’other’s one o’ them as attacked us. There was another killed, but his horse rode off with him. I shot him; my partner, he shot this man here, before another of ’em got him.’

Harker went over to the wagon and looked to see what it might contain. All he could see were two stout crates and a couple of carpet bags. The canvas hood was folded up and stowed next to the other gear, turning what looked like a regular prairie schooner into an ordinary cart. He said, ‘What were they after? You got something valuable here?’

‘I reckon that’s my business,’ said the other shortly. ‘Can you help me get this moving or are you just going to stand there asking a lot of damn-fool questions?’

‘Your language is something else again, you know that?’

When there was no answer, he looked under the wagon and saw at once what was amiss. The brake beam had jerked loose, probably from banging over a rock, and was jammed tight against the rear wheels. Abigail Tyler said, ‘Well, can you mend it?’

Harker straightened up and said, ‘If you’ve a hammer, I can. We’ll have to unload the whole wagon first.’

‘Unload it? Why?’

By now, he’d had just about enough of this sharpness and said, ‘Because if you want my aid, then that’s what I’ll have done. I don’t aim to push a loaded cart round. We’ll have to unhitch your oxen as well.’

The woman looked around uneasily and said, ‘You know how long this is likely to take? Those as tried to rob us might return.’

‘How many were there?’

‘There were five, but two are dead.’

‘Which makes three of them to us two, always assuming I consent to lend a hand. But why would they try again? What have you got here that’s worth so much to’em?’

‘You want to lend me a hand unhitching the oxen?’ said Abigail. ‘Then we can unload the cargo.’