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    Macarastor: Book One - the Mountain Men
    Macarastor: Book One - the Mountain Men
    Macarastor: Book One - the Mountain Men
    Ebook87 pages1 hour

    Macarastor: Book One - the Mountain Men

    By Bob Giel

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    About this ebook

    The existence of a trading post in the Wyoming Territory in 1875, and the people it serves, is threatened by a group of ruthless mountain men led by Asa Rudabaugh and his nephew, Oren. When murder is committed, Cason Macara, the owner of the store and patriarch of the area, sends for the assistance of the law. Together with US Marshal Tom "Tracker" Cord, he embarks on a manhunt to bring the killer to justice and restore peace to the region. Ride with Macara and Cord as they experience two of the most harrowing days of danger and violence in their lives.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAuthorHouse
    Release dateAug 23, 2011
    ISBN9781463428419
    Macarastor: Book One - the Mountain Men
    Author

    Bob Giel

    I have loved the western genre since I was a kid, and the grit and the determination of the people that carved a way of life out of the frontier have helped to shape the way I live my own life.  Because of that era, I keep my word, I finish what I start and I'm a true friend. Born in New York City and living now in New Jersey, I've lived in several areas of the midwest but have never resided in any area that could be termed the West.  However, I've absorbed so much of the West through books, movies and TV that I feel like I have been there.  The colors, sounds and images stay vividly enough in my mind that I can believe I have experienced them.

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      Book preview

      Macarastor - Bob Giel

      © 2011 by Robert Giel. All rights reserved.

      Cover design by Jessica Grassi

      No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

      First published by AuthorHouse 07/16/2011

      ISBN: 978-1-4634-2842-6 (sc)

      ISBN: 978-1-4634-2841-9 (ebk)

      Printed in the United States of America

      Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

          For Jess and James—

               Who saved my life

          For Nancy—

               Who gave me new life

      Chapter One

      Cason Macara stepped out onto the store’s front porch to greet the morning. A tad chilly it was this day but the sun was brightening and it promised warmth. This had become somewhat of a ritual for several weeks now, this stepping out onto the porch to greet the morning. Sure, it was not the morning he was interested in, but the countryside and any activity that might be about. A particular activity, that of a rider approaching would have been a satisfying sight had it presented itself. But this morning held no more hope than did all the others since he began this ridiculous watch.

      Well now, he told himself, who’s to say the man will magically appear as I’m scouring the hills this fine morning? Who’s to say he’ll appear at all? There was no guarantee, you know. It was a definite ‘we’ll see what we can do’, but, by the saints, that’s all it was. Yet here you are, standing here again, looking, waiting. You’re daft, don’t you know! Get back inside and be about your business!

      Following the order he had just given himself, he slowly turned and took a step toward the door. As his hand went for the latch, something caught his attention. There had been a stirring behind him. He heard nothing and saw nothing, yet he knew that he should turn back around for another look. And so he did, and was presented with the sight, so far in the distance that it was barely visible, of a lone rider leading a pack horse.

      Could it be? Could this be the manifestation of ‘we’ll see what we can do’?

      He squinted to clear the picture before him but to no avail. There was just too much distance between them even for his keen eyes. He would be forced to wait for the rider to approach before he would know if this were himself, the one he’d asked for.

      As he leaned a shoulder against the porch column to wait more comfortably, Macara’s thoughts raced back to the beginning of this nightmare.

      It was the murder that tore it! Before that, it had just been annoyances, almost pranks, although the loss of anything to the people that lived around the store was serious, they had so little. But, till then, it had been the disappearance of a pig, or a chicken or two. Some lost boots. Others lost rifles.

      Then it escalated to horses. Folks began keeping watch. It was the watching that got Will Tremayne. Had he been snug in his cabin that fateful night, enjoying Maggie’s fine stew, instead of being camped in the barn waiting for trouble, he’d be with us today. Ah, but the brave boy-o he was would not sit still for being pilfered and so he sat in the dark barn, waiting, when Oren Rudabaugh stepped in, a rope bridle in one hand and a Navy Colt in the other. One could only guess what ensued thereafter, but when Maggie heard the shot splitting the still night, she made a dash outside and saw a dim light coming from the barn.

      As she ran toward the barn, the door flew open to reveal a buckskin clad figure up on the mare bareback, with the reins of the rope bridle in hand, brandishing the Colt. Maggie kept coming. She saw no sign of Will and knew he must be in trouble.

      The mare bolted at the sight of Maggie and reared a tad, then backed into the barn. As Maggie cleared the threshold of the barn, the rider dug his heels into the horse’s flanks and urged her forward. Maggie looked up and, in the light from the lantern on the stall pillar, saw the face of Oren Rudabaugh. Now the horse was making for the door and Rudabaugh was aiming the pistol—at Maggie. She froze for a second, then let out a yelp and threw herself at the hay aside the stall, landing on her face in the stuff.

      The great Colt boomed and sent a ball slamming through the barn wall where, a split second before, Maggie had stood. A mad flurry of hooves propelled the mare through the doorway and into the night. Stillness returned to the scene as the sound of the galloping horse disappeared.

      Maggie raised her head and began to pull herself up. Her heart was pounding so hard she could almost hear it through her breast. This and the rustling of the hay beneath her held her attention until another sound reached her ears. It was Will and he was calling her name and he was in trouble.

      Will! she said with alarm.

      Maggie, I’m here. Help me.

      She traced the sound of his voice to the stall. As she came around the stall pillar, she saw him, saw her Will, her love, on his back. The stall was darker and the shadows covered him but she saw him all the same. Her hand went to the lantern and pulled it down. Then she saw the blood on his shirt and she cried out, cried his name and cried out again.

      In an instant, she reached him. She set the lantern down and leaned in to cradle him, all the while saying his name, close to hysterical now.

      Maggie, he shot me, shot me bad. His voice was weaker now.

      Don’t talk, Will. I’ll get help. You’ll be fine. You’ll see. Cason will fix you right up. You’ll be fine. Her voice was comforting and frenetic at the same time.

      His hand reached up and touched her arm to stop her ranting.

      "Tell Cason. It was Oren Rudabaugh shot

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