Ransom Wilcox - To Swallow the Earth: A Western Thriller

To Swallow the Earth

By Ransom Wilcox & Karl Beckstrand

Copyright 2015 PREMIO PUBLISHING, MAY 2015,

Midvale, UT, USA, Smashwords Edition

Library of Congress catalog number: 2015937400

ebook ISBN: 978-1311882387 ISBN: 978-0692407974

A Barn Full o Proud First PREMIO PUBLISHING & GOZO BOOKS edition,2013 (under the title: Horse & DogAdventures in Early California )

This is a work of fiction. Whilesome settings are actual locations, the events and charactersdescribed here are fictitious and are not intended to representliving persons. Simultaneously published under the title: A Sky So Big (also anaudio book, paperback, and soon a graphic novel) . Published in the USA.

Cover illustration by Mike Condie.All rights reserved. This ebook is licensed for your personalenjoyment only. It may not be transferred or reproduced, as a wholeor in part, in any formexcept by reviewers, librarians, orbooksellers, who may quote brief passages and post cover images ina printed, online, or broadcast reviewwithout prior writtenpermission from the publisher. If you would like to share this bookwith another person, please purchase an additional copy for eachrecipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, orit was not purchased for your use, please purchase your own copy.Thank you for respecting our creative efforts. Derechos reservados.Order this and other adventures/ebooks via major distributors,booksellers, libraries, or PremioPublishing. More thrills at PremioBooks.

Before Renobefore the riches of Las Vegasthere wasCarson City and the surrounding outposts that serviced the gold andsilver mines that sprang up in Nevadas silver rush of the latter1800s. The Comstock Lode and Ophir Mine brought people of all kindsto the territory, soon after called the Silver State. This land wasruggedas were the people.

CONTENTS

I. Drop

With uplifted blacksnake, the stage driver pulled up thehorses in front of Carson Citys St. Charles Hotel. PatriciaLaughlin stepped down. But the driver wasnt unloading her trunkand valises. Foot on the brake, he stared at a big man in a Stetsonwho had exploded from the Lake Saloon across the street, handspoised over a bone-handled gun at his hip. Patricia didnt noticethe easy conceit of the big mans bearing; his focus forced hergaze to a man at her left, who had just untied a horse from thehitchrack.

Beneath the brim of a battered hat was agaunt face and a nose that was slightly askew. He seemed unaware ofthe large-chested man in the Stetson, the contempt that smolderedabove his unlit cigar (spittle dark from much chewing and littlesmoking). As the gaunt man led his horse in a half turn, his mountwas interrupted from the front of the saloon.

Forester!

Patricia now saw dark eyes and jet blackhair under the battered hat and a shirt that was streaked with sootsmudges, as though he had just ridden through a burned-over area.The Colt that sagged at his hip was well used, and the cartridgebelt held only a handful of shells. The dark eyes disappeared againas the man turned toward the cigar under the Stetson.

The big man stepped deliberately to thestreet as all other feet stilled. Subconsciously, the girl read thefaces within the range of her vision. On one, she saw aself-satisfied smirk. On others, she caught a look of half-hiddenfear. Others were expressionless, as though their owners wished tobe neutral; most were attuned to the prospect of witnessingviolence.

Unfettered tongues had prophesied thismoment, built up its importance until it seemed inevitable. NowBridger Calhoun and Wade Forester were finally going to have itout. Bridgers voice boomed the length of the street. Youve beensaying things behind my back, Forester.

Only because you werent around for me tosay them to your face, said Forester, untwisting a rein.

Im here.

I see you.

Then play your hand.

I wont pull on you, said Wade. If Iwanted that, Id have found you long before this.

You

Think what you like.

Im thinkin it.

Your privilege. Wade put his hands on thesaddle.

Bridger moved forward again, his legs bentslightly. His eyes shimmied with a lethal desire straining toexplode.

Wade turned from the horse. Spectator eyesfollowed his right hand. It moved from the saddle to the buckle ofhis gun belt. A quick tug and the belt dropped to the dust.

The only sound now was a paper handbillfluttering in the breeze; if it had known the disgrace that hadjust occurred, it would have held its peace. This was something thepeople would long remember.

Forester picked up the gun belt, buckled anddraped it on the saddle horn, then mounted his horse. From hisperch, he saw Bridgers arrogant face go blank. He reined his horseslowly about and rode south, out of town.

The people stirred slowlyas if loath toaccept what had happened. Bridger Calhoun was not a professionalgunman in the strictest sense. He was well known. He had called hisman out. Wade Forester had refused the challenge, refused to cometo tow in a public meeting; now he could not but be branded acoward.

Bridger turned from watching the back of hisfoe and caught sight of the young woman on the hotel porch. Hereyes were fixed on the smudged stranger disappearing in thedistance. Bridger doffed his hat and approached her with awelcoming smile.

Am I addressing Miss PatriciaLaughlin?

Yes. You must be Mr. Calhoun. My father haswritten to me about you many times. The dark-haired woman extendeda gauntleted hand, Im happy to make your acquaintance. Is myfather in town to meet me?

Miss Laughlin, I am sorry to report that hewas unable to come at this particular time. Hes been feelingpoorly. Last week, he went to Virginia City on business and endedup stuck there under doctors care. Now dont be alarmed; they justdidnt want him traveling too soon. He wired and asked me to do thehonor of escorting you down to the ranch. He said hed meet usthere in a day or so.

Is it serious?

I dont think so. You know how your fatherburns the candle, so to speak. Patricia nodded sullenly. I mustapologize for the incident you just witnessed, said Bridger. HadI known you were already here, I assure you, this embarrassmentwould not have occurred. Believe me, Im deeply sorry.

Who was that man? What was thetrouble?

Lets just say hes a nobody who got alittle out of line. How was your trip? No trouble from Black Bart,I hope.

Patricias eyebrows rose. The GentlemanBandit must have had other appointments this week.

Bridger smiled. I have a spring wagon overhere. I can load your trunk and baggage, and we can be on ourway.

Im just a little tired from the trip.Patricia looked up at the hotel sign. Couldnt we leavetomorrow?

If you wish. However, its quite adistance. If we can do twelve miles today, we can stay overnight atGenoa and then get an early start in the morning.

I guess I can stand another twelve miles.Would you give me a spell to freshen up a little?

Surely. Ill call for you. Is thereanything you need in the meantime, anything at all I can getyou?

No, I dont think so. Thanks verymuch.

II. Assessment

Bridger Calhoun pulled the team up for a short blow as thedust they had been stirring overcame the wagon. Little rivulets ofsweat darkened the coats of the dappled grays and the skin overtheir withers twitched.

During the ride, Bridger had cast a fewsurreptitious glances at the girl in her corduroy skirt andwaistcoat. Each had had an opportunity to size the other up.

Would you like some water? askedBridger.

No, thank you, said Patricia. I may atthe next stop. My father says youve managed lots of spreads.

Well, mostly Ive been hired by prospectorsto help them stake their claims. Ive seen fortunes come and golike dust devils, from California to Montana.

I imagine some people handled that betterthan others.