Flynn's Debt Read online

  FLYNN’S

  DEBT

  THE BELLES OF

  WYOMING SERIES

  Book 25

  Margaret Tanner

  BLURB

  Angus (Gus) Flynn has been broken by war. He lives a reclusive life near the town of Belle.

  Joey Lascelles is fleeing for her life, and Gus is the only one who can save her.

  Joey’s father gave Gus the greatest gift a man can bestow on another – he saved him from certain death. Helping Joey will repay the debt. What will Gus do when he discovers Joey is a girl?

  Marriage is their only solution, but will it save or destroy them?

  FLYNN’S DEBT

  THE BELLES OF WYOMING

  BOOK 25

  Copyright © 2019 Margaret Tanner

  Thank you for downloading this e-book. It remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed for any commercial or non-commercial use without permission from the author and publisher. Quotes used in reviews are the exception. No alteration of content is allowed. If you enjoy this book, then please encourage your friends to purchase their own copy.

  This story is a work of fiction, and to enhance the story, some literary license has been taken regarding setting. All characters are a figment of the author’s imagination.

  Acknowledgements:

  Many thanks to my author friends, Susan Horsnell and Cheryl Wright, for all their help and support.

  To my loyal readers: Thank you so much for your support. You can’t know how much I appreciate it.

  Cover Artist: Virginia McKevitt

  Format: Susan Horsnell

  CHAPTER ONE

  SILVER SPUR

  COLORADO

  1881

  “Joey Lascelles, are you there?”

  “Yes.”

  Joey pushed open the door to her ramshackle cabin. “Preacher Dan! What are you doing here? Come in.”

  “No thank you, let’s sit out here on the porch. You could get me a drink of water, though.”

  His normally pale face was red and perspiring, his shoulders slightly slumped. What did he have to tell her that was so important it couldn’t wait for a cooler day? She wasn’t a church goer, although sometimes she would sneak into the vestry to listen to the hymns and bible readings. She couldn’t attend church as she had no dress to wear and the other women despised her. Not a night went by that she didn’t read a passage from Ma’s bible.

  Joey dashed back inside. She hadn’t long filled the bucket from the creek running past the back of the cabin. She didn’t blame him for not wanting to come inside. The place was terrible. She wouldn’t be living here if she had somewhere else to stay.

  Cracks in the log walls of the cabin had been stuffed with old newspaper for as long as she could remember. The floor was dirt with a couple of cow hides covering it. It was dirty and dusty no matter how hard she tried to keep it clean.

  She stepped over to the battered old kitchen dresser and took out one of only two china cups she owned. They had been here since her mother’s time. She filled it with water and dashed outside.

  “Here you are.”

  “Thank you, my dear.” He took several gulps of water. “I have some bad news for you.”

  “Oh?” Surely Mason at the livery stable wouldn’t send the preacher here to tell her she could no longer work for him? Her heart sank. Without the money she earned at the livery she would be destitute. It wasn’t as if she didn’t work hard there. She did. All the dirty jobs came her way, mucking out the stable, filling the water troughs, unloading hay, not to mention the work she did with the horses.

  “I’ve just had news from the penitentiary. Your father is dead.”

  “You mean they hanged him?” She slumped on the porch.

  “No, he escaped the hangman. The guards found him dead in his cell one morning, must have passed during the night. His heart gave out most probably. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be?” She tried to hide the bitterness in her voice. “I’m not.”

  “You mustn’t say that, Joey.” He picked up her smooth tanned hand and held it in his wrinkled lily-white one. “No matter what he did, he was still your father, one of God’s children.

  “He never did anything for me. Never did anything, but cause trouble after Ma died. Look at me? I’m wearing cut down men’s trousers and a shirt that’s miles too big. I don’t own even one dress or bonnet. The cabin has a dirt floor. The roof leaks in winter. All because Pa wouldn’t stop drinking and fighting all the time.”

  It was terrible having the town drunk for a father, and if that wasn’t enough he was also a laughing stock because he kept boasting about Confederate gold he had hidden, when everyone knew he didn’t have two dimes to rub together. No wonder she didn’t have any friends and was treated like a leper. The one girl she had been friendly with at school had married and left the area a couple of years ago. At twenty she should probably have been married herself, except no respectable man wanted her.

  “Sorry, Preacher Dan. What did you say?”

  “He wasn’t like that before he went to the war, and he managed to cope with his demons while your mother lived.”

  “I know the war was horrible and affected a lot of people, but they got over it.”

  “No-one who goes to war ever gets over it. They just learn to live with their nightmares. Unfortunately, your father couldn’t. And once your Ma died, it was just about the end of him.”

  “And me?”

  “He looked after you as best he could, Joey. It’s not easy for a man bringing up a little girl on his own.” And how would you know she felt like screaming at him, you aren’t even married. She hated herself for the mean thoughts because this man had always treated her kindly.

  “I know the bible is all about forgiving, but I can’t.” Tears blurred her eyes and she angrily scrubbed them away with her fingers. “What happens now? Do I have to pay for his funeral?”

  “No, unfortunately your father has been buried in unconsecrated ground in the prison. The authorities contacted Marshall Wilton and he told me. I offered to come out and tell you.”

  “Thank you for that. I’m sorry if I sounded rude and ungrateful.”

  “I understand. There’s something else, Joey.” His features were somber.

  “What else is there to tell me?” Nothing could be worse than the fact my father was a murderer who would have hanged if he hadn’t died first.

  “You must leave here.”

  “What!”

  “You have to leave here as soon as you can, otherwise they’ll kill you.”

  She gasped, clutching at the collar of her faded blue shirt. How many other shocks was she supposed to bear? “Who would want to kill me? I haven’t done anything?”

  “That Confederate gold your father always boasted about hiding. Well, he told his cellmate who is being released in a couple of days, and word has it, he’s heading here to find it.”

  “It doesn’t exist.”

  “I know that, you know that, in fact the whole town knows it was a figment of your poor father’s deluded mind, but this man doesn’t. He believes it’s buried here and he aims to find it. He’s coming here to get it. He’ll kill you if you don’t show him where it is.”

  “How can I show him something, which only existed in Pa’s imagination?”

  “You think a man like him would believe you don’t know where it is?” He wrung his hands. “He’s probably joined up with the outlaw gang he used to ride with. They’ll come, sooner rather than later, the sheriff says. He can’t be here to protect you all the time. Your only chance is to leave – now. Go somewhere far away from here and lie low for a while.”

  Joey could feel the fear building up inside her, not that sh
e would ever show it. She could protect herself from one man. She was an excellent shot, one of the few things her father had taught her, along with living off the land. If this gang came she couldn’t protect herself against all of them. Where could she go?

  “Do you remember your father ever talking about a man named Angus Flynn?

  “No.”

  “Your father saved his life during the war. Ran out on to the battlefield and dragged him to safety. After they were captured, he helped keep Angus alive in the prison camp. Angus vowed one day to repay the debt he owed your father.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I was there. I wasn’t always a preacher. After the war, well I found my calling you could say. I was there when your father rescued Angus, and I was captured with them.

  “Even if he wanted to, what can this Angus do for me?”

  “He could give you refuge for a while. I’m not sure exactly where he lives, but it’s on an isolated property a few miles out of Belle in Wyoming.”

  “Wyoming? Anyway, it was Pa who rescued him, not me. He owes me nothing.”

  “I don’t think he’d feel that way. Your father showed me a letter he received from him years ago. Apparently Angus had bought himself a place just outside of Belle. Invited your father to call in and see him if he was ever over that way.”

  “His wife might object to some strange woman from Colorado turning up on their doorstep.”

  He shook his head. “That’s a chance you’ll have to take. He was years younger than your father and me. Only a boy really.”

  Joey didn’t want to throw herself on the mercy of a man she didn’t even know. A man who lived in another state.

  “I can look after myself.”

  “Not against a gang of ruthless outlaws you can’t. Some of them are wanted for crimes in Colorado, South Dakota, not to mention Wyoming. You wouldn’t stand a chance. And if they didn’t kill you straight away, you would be praying for death by the time they were through.”

  Her blood ran cold. She was all alone out here, her nearest neighbor being about two miles away. Not that Cecil Ramsay would do anything to help her, he would be glad to get rid of her because she had rejected the advances of his son, Jason. Just because his father was rich, Jason thought he could do anything he liked and get away with it. Well, not with her he didn’t. She had once kneed him in the groin and left him rolling on the ground screaming in agony. No, she couldn’t expect any help from them.

  “Joey. Are you listening to me?”

  “Yes.”

  “You need to go at daylight. Ride away and don’t look back. Here.” He thrust a few dollars and a piece of paper into her hands.

  “I can’t take your money.”

  “You can and you will. I’ve written you an introduction to Angus, and drawn a rough map to get you to Wyoming and then to Belle. You’ll have to ask for Angus when you get there.” He stood. “I have to go, old Mrs. Gable has had a bad turn, and I promised the daughter I’d go out and see her. I’ll see them at the livery and tell them you decided to move on. Goodbye Joey, and God bless you on your travels.”

  “Goodbye, Preacher Dan, and thank you.”

  She stood and watched him mount his horse and ride away. One part of her wanted to stay and fight these evil varmints, the other more sensible part told her to leave at first light and not come back. It wasn’t as if she had much to leave behind. Another couple of winters and the cabin wouldn’t be livable. She could do a few minor repairs herself, although putting on a new roof, which it needed, was beyond her capabilities and she had no money to pay someone else to do it.

  If she skirted town, no-one would see her go. They would just think she up and left like she had threatened to do dozens of times before. The saddest part of all was no-one would even miss her. Most of the town would be glad to see her go.

  She had once overheard a couple of women complaining about how it lowered the moral tone of the town to have a murderer’s daughter living in the midst of them. The worst thing was her family had been one of the first settlers in the area, and most of the people living here now had only come after the war, yet they thought themselves superior to the old-timers.

  It wasn’t fair.

  Chapter Two

  Joey started packing for her trip. She sorted out her bedroll and secured it. One saddlebag she filled with a change of drawers, a shirt, an old buckskin coat, a faded night shirt and a hairbrush, all squeezed in tightly. Beef jerky, cans of beans and her mother’s bible and a few pieces of towel, filled the other. She topped up her canteen ready to leave at first light.

  Lying on her bed she stared up at the roof of the cabin. Through the gaps she watched a fat old moon hanging above the distant mountains. Stars twinkled from the black velvet sky. Peace and serenity reigned, making it even more difficult to leave the only home she had ever known and venture to a new state.

  Things had been good when Ma was alive. She had barely been born when Pa marched off to the war. She vaguely remembered the emotional reunion when he finally returned. It was only after Ma passed when she was about thirteen that the dark demons completely overtook him. She had been powerless to help him. A once decent man became a drunken, lying troublemaker, and his behavior had dragged her down with him.

  She punched the pillow with a clenched fist. No use crying over the past. If she wanted to live she had to get out of here. The safest way to travel would be as a youth, not that she had any female clothes, anyway. She didn’t want to cut off her long blonde hair. If it was tied back, pinned to her head out of sight and covered with her hat, she could easily pass as a boy. She had been doing it for the past few years. More for convenience than anything else. Many of the men who left their mounts at the livery to be cared for thought she was a boy and cussed at her accordingly.

  Wearing loose clothing would hide her feminine shape. Luckily her breasts were small, so she wouldn’t need to bind them. With the money Preacher Dan had given her, plus the small amount she had put aside, she was preparing to set off on her long journey with a little over fifteen dollars in her pocket.

  As dawn stretched out pink and grey fingers across the mountains, Joey saddled her horse and rode away. Her only protection being a pistol stuck through a belt, which was covered by a waistcoat, and her father’s Winchester stuck in a scabbard on her saddle.

  A few birds squawked from trees lining the road. After a couple of miles or so she veered right on to a barely discernable trail. Lumps of manure were scattered around, only fairly recent if she was any judge. There were wagon also wheel tracks. Maybe if she could catch up with them, and they were heading in the right direction, she might be able to ride with them. The numerous marks on the ground would obliterate any signs she had passed this way in case the outlaws decided to track her.

  She didn’t mind sleeping rough, having done it plenty of times before.

  After a couple of hours she stopped to rest the horse. Sitting with her back propped up against a tree, she took a swig out of her canteen and chewed on a stick of beef jerky.

  What would this Angus Flynn be like? Preacher Dan had said he was much younger than her father or him. Mid-thirties maybe? Would he welcome her? Probably not. Would he remember the debt he owed Eddie Lascelles after all these years? If he did remember, would he be prepared to help? If he had heard about her father’s exploits he probably wouldn’t want to have anything to do with her. Her head started aching with the worry, made worse by her hair being pulled back so tightly. Even out here she couldn’t risk anyone discovering she wasn’t a boy.

  Wallowing in self-pity would get her nowhere. Even if this Angus wouldn’t help her Belle was probably a nice town. It had to be better than Silver Spur. She might be able to find work as it was unlikely anyone there would know about her background. It wasn’t as if Pa’s crime had such notoriety about it that the news would jump state borders. Shooting a man in a drunken brawl in a saloon wasn’t anything new, it happened quite often. Pa’s mistake was in not re
alizing the man wasn’t carrying a gun.

  Stop thinking like this Joey Lascelles or you’ll end up loco.

  Climbing to her feet, she dusted herself down, remounted and rode off.

  Mid-afternoon she spotted a dust cloud up ahead and urged her mount forward. On rounding a corner she saw two slow moving covered wagons with what appeared to be a goat tied behind the smaller one. She had never seen a real live goat before. A couple of horses were hitched behind the larger wagon, while a lone horseman rode on ahead.

  As she got closer, she saw a couple of wire cages containing chickens attached to the side of each wagon, along with barrels of water. Whoever the travelers were they appeared well prepared.

  She rode to the last wagon, which was driven by a young woman. “Howdy, I’m Joey. Mind if I ride along with you?”

  Before the driver had time to answer, a much older woman poked her head out from behind the shabby canvas and pointed a rifle at her. “What you doing out here, boy?”

  “I’m on my way to Glenda.” Joey decided telling a half truth was better than lying under the circumstances.

  “Why you going all that way?” The old woman gave her a suspicious glare, while the woman driving said nothing.

  “I’m supposed to be meeting my brother there. He’s coming off the train, then we’ll be looking for work. He says the prospects in Wyoming are better than Colorado.”

  The man on horseback galloped up to them. “What’s going on here?”

  “This boy wants to travel part of the way with us,” the young women said.

  “I’m prepared to work in exchange for food. I’m a bit low on supplies.”

  “We really could do with some extra help. Now Ma’s gone and broken her leg she can’t do much. We’re the Broughtons,” he said.

  “I can. No busted leg will stop me doing my share,” the old woman snapped back.