The O'Malleys of Texas
Page 1
Pinnacle Westerns by Dusty Richards
THE O’MALLEYS OF TEXAS
The O’Malleys of Texas
Dead Aim
(coming in February 2018! )
THE BYRNES FAMILY RANCH SAGA
Deadly Is the Night
Pray for the Dead
Arizona Territory
A Good Day to Kill
Ambush Valley
Brothers in Blood
Blood on the Verde River
Between Hell and Texas
Texas Blood Feud
DUSTY RICHARDS
THE O’MALLEYS OF TEXAS
PINNACLE BOOKS
Kensington Publishing Corp.
www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
Pinnacle Westerns by Dusty Richards
Title Page
Copyright Page
PROLOGUE: THE LONG DRIVE TO SEDALIA
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
TO MY FANS
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
DEAD AIM
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
PINNACLE BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2017 Dusty Richards
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.
If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
PINNACLE BOOKS and the Pinnacle logo are Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
ISBN: 978-0-7860-3923-4
First electronic edition: October 2017
ISBN-13: 978-0-7860-3924-1
ISBN-10: 0-7860-3924-8
PROLOGUE: THE LONG DRIVE TO SEDALIA
Easter Coble walked through the cold dark night keeping the long wool coat tightly wrapped around her. The celestial sky projected outlines of the towering oak trees that cast long shadows and patches of starlight on the ground. A tall girl of seventeen, with blond braids coiled on her head, she was headed toward the man she loved—Norton Horsekiller. He waited for her in the log shed full of hay that her father called a barn. The snugly built cabin behind her was dark—her parents were sound asleep. They wouldn’t miss her during the short meeting with him.
Her father never approved of Horsekiller as her suitor. Said he was too wild to ever be a real provider and would never furnish her needs as a wife and mother. But the six-foot-tall young woman had her own ideas, and, headstrong, she snuck out to meet her lover.
In the barn’s darkness, he shocked her by sweeping her in his arms and kissing her. She swooned in his hug. After their kiss he went to quickly telling her how he and three others were going to the buffalo land called the Cherokee Outlet that the tribe owned farther west. He would come back rich with wagonloads of hides and meat, and then he would marry her.
“Tonight we can begin our married life. I will return shortly with many wagonloads piled high with meat and hides. Even your father will be impressed by my wealth when I marry you. Tonight I need your body for good luck on my hunt. It won’t hurt you, and we will be bonded as man and wife forever.”
Beguiled by his words and skills at arousing her, she agreed and did as he asked, both of them wrapped inside the blanket he’d brought, lying together on top of the sweet-smelling hay. After he’d kissed her good-bye and was gone, while sneaking back into the house she wondered about his words. Once inside, she felt disappointed that her transgression that night with him was not as uplifting as she had expected. But she was to be his wife when he returned triumphant from the big hunt, so the path of her life after this night was cut and dried. She was to be Horsekiller’s woman for better or worse when he returned.
From that day forth she prayed a lot for his safety and success. To escape her discouraging thoughts she read from the Bible, more to submerge her worries and the questions from her mother and father about where he went off to. But when morning sickness struck, Easter alarmed her mother, who sat her down and asked her if she had a baby in her womb—did she?
Easter collapsed in tears and told her mother the entire story about her hopes and dreams. But her mother shocked her, saying no simple Indian like him could ever go out there and get rich killing buffalo without money and wagons. He had most certainly lied to her.
That night she imagined that Norton’s son inside her belly kicked her while she was crying on her wet pillowcase. She sat up, stiffened her back, and decided, by damn, she’d have the baby and raise him, no matter what happened to her personally.
Border gangs made up of both renegade Indians and outlaws raided settlers and small settlements up and down the Arkansas-Indian Territory line, striking fear in everyone during those years before the Civil War. The scattered families slept with their guns ready night and day. Her mother even became proficient with a shotgun that Easter could quickly reload for her.
One day a tall, big strapping man named Hiram O’Malley came by. His long blond hair was shoulder length and his face clean-shaven. They said he was near thirty years old and the head of the Home Protection Society. This organization was made up of the farmers, storekeepers, and residents around Cincinnati, Arkansas. Hiram rode a fine horse and recently had become widowed when his wife had drowned during a picnic on the Illinois River. Easter also learned, from gossip, they had no living children at the time.
A so-called newly formed band of bushwhackers struck first north of Easter’s folks’ farm at a mill on Brush Creek. They kidnapped two young girls after they slaughtered several other people on the site and set fire to the water-powered mill.
Word spread fast after the incident. Hiram came, himself, to tell her father about the raid and for them to be ready for more trouble. Her father had his black powder single-shot rifle leaning on the log fence where the three of them worked in their bountiful garden—her pa, her mother, and Easter.
Easter recalled the head bobbing, powerful red stallion that O’Malley rode by there that day. His mouth at the bits lathered like his shoulders from the fast trip his rider made to get there and warn them. The great horse kept half rearing as if anxious to run again. But she also saw the glint in Hiram’s blue eyes when their glance met and he tipped his hat to Easter and her mother. “Good
day, ladies.”
“Good day to you and thank you, sir,” Easter said proudly.
“I wish these were better times, ma’am. But they aren’t,” he apologized almost singly to her, then galloped away to warn others.
What a bright brilliant man bravely sacrificing his life for all of them. She felt very impressed and also lucky he could not see the obvious swell of her son’s form in her belly under the generous-size new dress that her mother had sewn for her.
Two days later she walked the two miles to the store in Cincinnati, with her mother, to get a few items they needed like baking powder and a block of tea. Coffee beans were too high priced for her mother to charge on their store account.
At the store a young Cherokee woman approached Easter and pulled her aside. The woman told her mother that Easter would be along shortly but that she had some words for her first. Her mother frowned but went on with her shopping.
“What words do you have for me?” Easter asked her.
“I am sorry to be a bearer of such bad news. But your man, Horsekiller, is dead.”
“Horsekiller is dead?” She felt light-headed at the shocking news. Her knees buckled and she fainted.
When she woke up she found herself seated on her butt, and both her mother and Lily Four-Oaks, who had given her the bad news, were staring at her with shocked looks on their faces.
“Easter, what is wrong?” her mother asked.
“Oh, Mother. She said he is dead.”
“Who is dead?”
“Horsekiller. He and both of his companions were shot, killed, and robbed out in the Cherokee Outlet,” Lily answered.
“Are you telling us the truth or is it some rumor you simply heard?” her mother demanded of Lily.
“No, the truth. My cousin was with him and he is dead as well. I knew she didn’t know.”
“Oh, dear, this is bad news,” her mother said, hugging the sobbing Easter. “Baby, I am so sorry, but this, too, will work out for you.”
“But, Mother, he will never see his son.”
“My dear, there are many things he will be deprived of ever doing. But we, the living, must survive.”
“Do you have his baby?” Lily asked quietly as she knelt beside her.
Easter nodded.
“I am so sorry. My cousin Rose Big Star is carrying one of his, too.”
Easter glared at her. “Are you certain?”
“Why would I lie?”
Easter struggled to her feet. “It was a good thing they killed him out there or I would have killed him myself for lying to me.”
Lily looked more shocked as Easter’s mom stood up and said, “We don’t need to make any more gossip or threats for the entire world to hear, my dear. Tonight you and I will tell Father and make plans.”
“Mother, he will be so mad at me.”
“No. You are his only living child. He worships you. He will worship the boy, too, when he comes.”
“You know you are having a boy?” Lily asked, wide eyed.
“Some things you know in your heart,” Easter’s mother said.
“Oh, Easter, I hated to tell you about him, but you needed to know.”
“Yes, and I am grateful. Quietly tell your cousin I am sorry for her, too,” Easter said.
“Oh, I will.” Lily took her hands and squeezed them. “May the Great Spirit be with you and with him, too.” She meant the one in Easter’s belly.
“I hope so. Thanks, Lily.”
Her mother turned to Easter. “Rest here a moment; I will get my things and we can go home.”
“Oh, Mother, I hate to tell Father my plight.”
“Don’t hate anything. Charles is an understanding man when you get past his crusty side.” She handed her a hanky made from an old bed sheet. Skirt in hand, Jenny Coble went up the steps and inside for her items.
Lily had gone on, too.
What would she do? No man to marry and support her newborn. How had she ever been so dumb to let him love her that cold night? He did the same exact thing to Lily’s cousin. Another ignorant stupid country girl probably just like her, and him convincing two of them to let him sow his wild oats inside both of them before he ran off.
Well, she’d know from here on that it took very little for a man to plant a seed in her body. Little good that knowledge would do her at this point in time. His lies, his fabrications, all came back to her. He either practiced his prepared speech on Lily’s cousin or her. Either way they’d worked for him.
All her dreams and plans evaporated into the cloudy sky. Someone was talking to her, and she turned to see that a great stallion and a blond-headed man—Hiram—on his horse had stopped right beside her. One thing was certain. He wouldn’t make that mistake again, to stop and talk to her when he learned the news that she had a breed in her belly.
“Your name is Easter, right?”
With her hand she shaded her eyes against the bright overhead sun. “Yes, and you are Hiram O’Malley.”
He bounded off his horse. “Glad we have that straight now. I must warn you that gangs are raiding again, and I want you and your folks to be ready in case they raid your place.”
“We will try our best. Mother is in the store.”
“I wanted to talk to you if I may. You’ve been crying. Is it serious?”
She shook her head. He could not be interested in her problems, not in the least. And if he knew her true condition he’d spur that great horse and ride off as fast as he could, to get away from such a wanton woman. Soon everyone would know about the foolish whore from Cincinnati. She couldn’t be seen in public. Shunned for her sinful ways and to be avoided by all good men. But, not knowing, he simply stood there before her with his hat off.
“I am going to ask. Would you go to a social at Cane Hill with me next Saturday night?”
“ No.”
“Why not?”
“I can’t say, sir.”
“I have honest intentions.”
He would not be convinced of anything she told him. So damn persistent. She finally leaned over and jerked him by the sleeve up close. “Because I am pregnant.”
He looked at her so funny and asked, “Who is the lucky man?”
Damn him anyway. “He’s dead.”
“Then you have no excuse not to attend that social with me. I am alive.”
“Why would you want a-ah stained woman?”
“Easter, we both live in a violent world. I lost my own wife six months ago. She drowned in a river and I couldn’t save her. You have lost your man and I bet you could not have saved him, either.”
“But you were married to her.”
“I will be by your place for you about four thirty Saturday with a buggy. That is a nice enough dress for you to wear to that event. Now will you go with me?”
Before she could answer him her mother walked up, obviously hearing his words.
“Easter, tell the nice man your wishes, please.”
Her hands clasped before her, she broke them apart. “Mother, I already told him I was with child. He won’t listen to me.”
“I heard, ma’am. Her ex had died and I would not take that as an excuse.”
“We learned that only thirty minutes ago—here. Easter, tell the man yes or no.”
“If he’s that hardheaded I will go with him.”
“There, Mr. O’Malley, she will attend your social.”
“May I be presumptuous?” he asked.
“How is that?” Jenny asked, amused at his insistence.
“I want to kiss both of you on the forehead for being so generous with me.”
“Won’t bother me, sir.”
He kissed her mother and smiled, then turned to Easter.
She shook her head in disgust. “Go ahead. Chances are good you’d do it anyway.”
After his quick kiss, which still burned on her forehead like a brand, he leaped into the saddle, reined his horse around, mentioned some things he must do, and repeated the time that he’d be there for h
er on Saturday evening. Anything past noon was evening in Arkansas.
“Well, now he knows; let’s go tell your dad and hope he is so forgiving.”
“Mother, I was not bragging I swear. He was so persistent for an answer, I told him my condition.” She threw her hands up like tossing chicken feed. “That didn’t bother him one bit. He is a tough man to tell no to.”
“Remember that Saturday night when you go with him.”
“What could it hurt? He can’t get me with child. I already am that.”
“My dear, you are not some scarlet woman.”
“Who decides that?”
“The man you might marry.”
“He’s not going to marry me. Not him. I don’t believe he wants to marry anyone.”
“Just sit tight on your butt and keep your legs crossed.”
“I will try.”
Their talk with her father went smoothly enough. They never mentioned Lily’s cousin’s similar condition, only that Norton had been killed. They did tell him about Hiram and the invitation, and that, even with him knowing the information of her condition, it had not shocked O’Malley away from asking her out.
“I can hardly believe you told him and never told me?”
“I was coming home to tell you, Father. That straw-headed gentleman would not take no even after I told him.”
“I can see why he would not take no for an answer.”
“Why?” She frowned at him.
“Easter, baby and all, you have blossomed into a lovely young woman. His last wife drowned, and he sees in you the beauty I see in you. Jenny looked like you when I married her.”
“But she was not with another man’s child.”