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Retribution: The Long Return, #2
Retribution: The Long Return, #2
Retribution: The Long Return, #2
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Retribution: The Long Return, #2

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This is the second novel in the "The Long Return" Series.  The first novel "Lost Love", is the story of the wagons gathering in Richmond, Virginia at the end of the Civil War and heading for the new lands promised to them in Union City, Texas.  The first novel details their travels and adventures across the Appalachian Mountains.  Their hardships and their losses are laid bare.  Their victories celebrated.

     "The Long Return" Series is a story of a wagon train leaving from Richmond, Virginia and heading to Union City, Texas.  Confederate Capt.  Jake Cooper and his partner Lt. Sam Boyd hire on as security to provide protection for the wagons as they cross the great land of America.  It is a long trek filled with many physical challenges, dangers, and personal trials. 

     A look at what the brave settlers faced as they traveled to new land and a new life.  Many people started the journey with high hopes, but not all would see their dreams come true.  The times were tough.  The American Civil War left many families destitute, hopeless, and struggling to make ends meet.  The offer of free land in the West gave those who had lost everything in the East new hope, purpose, and the fortitude to face the dangers of crossing a still wild country. 

     The story begins after the wagon train is attacked just prior to Knoxville, Tennessee.  A large number of the wagon train settlers were killed and wounded in the surprise raid by a local gang made up of deserters, murderers, and men used to looting and killing.  Jake Cooper swears that the gang will pay for their crimes. 

     Jake Cooper, a Texan by birth, was a man not to be made angry.  Trained in Comanche ways, he sets out with the help of the sheriff's deputies to track down and deal justice to the guilty.

     The story is filled with action, new friendships made, and Jake begins the healing process of his personal loss during the wagon raid. 

Come ride with Jake Cooper as he seeks RETRIBUTION the Texan way.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherJR Thomas
Release dateNov 23, 2016
ISBN9781536561081
Retribution: The Long Return, #2

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    Retribution - JR Thomas

    This is a work of fiction.  The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.  Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

    Dedication

    Idedicate this, my second novel, to my loving wife, Vanessa.  She allows me time away from my Honey-do list to dream, write, and edit the stories I love to share.

    In addition, I dedicate this book to my six grown children, Jimmy, Russell, Abigail, Kirk, Jeremy, Max, and my three grandsons, Tyler, Chandler, and Brandon. 

    To my family, I would like to say just how much it means that you gave me the time and the chance to publish another novel. I’ll need more time in the future, got more stories to tell!

    Appreciation

    This novel would not have been possible, except for the encouragement and critique from the writing class, Ramblin’ Wrecks , taught by Mrs. Maxine Carey Harker.  She leads a group of dedicated writers extraordinaire.  Some have published works and others will do so in the near future. 

    Maxine has always been known to her many class members, through the years, as the Red Head Tyrant or RHT for short.  We love and appreciate her, even though she has a mean purple pen for critiquing our work.

    CHAPTER 1

    Knoxville, TN

    Late July 1865

    S heriff, are you and your men ready to ride? Jake Cooper asked, setting his tin cup in the banged up wash pail on the side of Pete Simmons chuck wagon.

    Thanks, Pete for the grub.

    That’s my job, but nice to be appreciated ‘round here once in a while.

    Ah, quit your belly achin’, you got it made.  You get up at four and go to bed at midnight, Wagon Master Henry Watson joined in.  By the way, what’s for supper?

    You got ham in your mouth and you’re already thinkin’ ‘bout supper?  Well since, you asked.  Think I’ll cook some of my delicious rabbit stew with carrots, potatoes, and thick brown gravy for puttin’ on some biscuits.  Of course that’s if, I catch a couple rabbits.

    "I do like that stew.

    Sheriff, I don’t suppose I’ll see you again ‘till the wagons get to Knoxville, so good luck at findin’ those killers.

    We’ll do our best Henry.  Alright men, chow’s over.  Finish your coffee and saddle up, we got a long day ahead of us.  Jake will get us started.

    Sheriff Dempsey laid his empty tin plate and cup in the pail and walked towards his horse.  The men finished off the last of Pete’s strong coffee and followed.  They didn’t appear too eager to leave Pete’s food and coffee.

    The early morning sun hung just over the pine tops as Jake led Sheriff Dempsey and his posse to where the two men fled into the dense forest the day before. 

    The vicious, deadly attack against the wagon train had killed six that he knew of, and injured even more.  These two men were part of the local gang raiding merchants and wagon trains traveling between Dandridge and Knoxville.  The attacks against travelers and supply wagons had gotten worse, and not better.

    Jake figured the makeup of the gang to be deserters from both Yankee and Rebel armies, men out of work needing money, and those bent on killing and plundering. 

    The ride didn’t take long until they were at where the two riders had disappeared into the woods.  Jakes’ trained eye spotted drops of dried blood on several leaves at their entry point.  The blood he spotted proved his hurried shots, the day before, scored a hit on at least one man.

    He slid off his horse, Dakota, and bent low to the forest floor.  He gently moved some of the undergrowth out of his way to expose the soft dirt beneath.  His eyes focused on the horse tracks.  The marks on the ground read like letters in a book to him.

    The shod hoof of one of the horses had a distinctive left rear horseshoe imprint.  The metal horseshoe had a blacksmith’s hammer ding on its edge and the ding left a clear impression in the ground. 

    Jake had no doubt but that he could track these two men, given this fresh trail, blood, and unique horseshoe mark. 

    This skill to follow trail signs didn’t come without a price.  At a young age, he spent many hours learning how to track, while hunting with his father, Colonel Matt Cooper, and White Wolf. 

    An old Comanche, White Wolf, lived in a roughshod Adobe house on his father’s ranch, Stoney Creek, near Riverdale, Texas.  He had become family to the Cooper’s and helped his father with the ranch’s large herd of wild horses.

    White Wolf had taken special interest in Matt’s boy, and taught him many of the Comanche ways.  Comanche knowledge of tracking happened to be one native skill Jake excelled.

    He wanted to go after the two men himself, but he knew that Henry needed him.  With Tully injured, he and his partner, Sam Boyd, had to help get the wounded, their wagons, and all the other settlers onto Knoxville. 

    Besides, the Sheriff had told him earlier, he and his men would handle it.  He didn’t seem to want or need Jake to help track the two men down.

    Jake fingered the tracks again finding the one of significance.  It was right at the start of the trail where Scar-face and the other wounded rider escaped into the forest.  A blind man couldn’t miss it.

    Here’s something we can track, can you see the difference between the other tracks?  Jake said, glancing up at the sheriff.

    Yeah, I think I see it, almost too small for my eyes to pick up, surprised you were able to see it.  I need a couple of you men to get down off your horses.  Jake, show these men the mark you’re talking about.  Oh, and show them the blood you spotted a couple feet back.

    Jake put his finger by the hoof with the small mark.

    One of the men pulled his thin gold metal framed spectacles from his vest pocket and placed them on his nose.

    Sheriff, you expect us to follow this track?  I can barely see the hoof imprint, much less this mark he’s shown me.

    Jake stood up and couldn’t help but shake his head in disbelief at this sheriff.  He should be tracking these two men, not these amateurs riding with him.  He tried to calm his agitation, but he hadn’t slept much the night before and his wounds hurt.

    Just let the Sheriff do his job, kept repeating over-and-over in his mind.  He walked Dakota to one side of the posse and just stood and watched the town folks mulling around the tracks, stepping all over them.

    He was still mad at himself for not having killed these two right off when they were bearing down on him, guns a blazing and this bunch of untrained men weren’t making it any better.

    With one wounded and the other a possibility, they should be easy to find, but Jake couldn’t shake the feeling the two riders might still be able to slip away from this Knoxville city sheriff and his posse of dainty looking deputized storekeepers. 

    Jake knew the importance of finding these two.  It might just lead to the capture of the whole gang, if they could find them.  If they lost them, then the wagon settler’s stolen items and money would be gone forever.  This weighted heavy on him.

    A fed up Jake stepped up into his saddle, angry with himself and Sheriff Dempsey. 

    Sheriff, don’t lose these two men, this is our best way of capturing the gang.  The wagon folks and I are counting on you.

    He’d spoke his mind.  It now would be up to the sheriff and his men.  Jake urged Dakota forward at a brisk walk and then kneed his horse into a lope as he rode away from the sheriff and his green deputies. 

    The ride back to the wagons was short, less than two miles.  He let Dakota run at his own pace—fast.  His recent wounds bothered him from his horse’s movements, but he needed the rush to clear his head.

    The big white canvas topped wagons were still in the same formation on the road, left in place from the onslaught of the murdering gang of bushwhackers the day before.  As he approached the wagons, he noticed a second black buggy tied up at the large tents setup for their injured.  He hoped that maybe another doctor had arrived. 

    He had put aside the pain of his own injuries during the fight, and the riding of last night’s guard duty, but now they hurt something fierce.  The bullet that struck Jake’s leg had grazed his horse, Dakota.  Dakota’s injury had been slight, barely a scratch. 

    Matter fact, the wound to the horse’s upper leg, had already scabbed over.  The horse didn’t seem to be favoring his leg and his run back, proved it.  They both were lucky considering all the lead thrown at them by the two charging outlaws.

    Jake stepped down from his saddle and loosely tied Dakota to a small tree beside the second buggy.  He needed to check on how Dr. Toler, Tully, and Tom were faring.  His hat removed, Jake stooped, and stepped inside the first tent, the strong smell of antiseptic and groans of the injured almost overwhelmed his senses.

    The conditions inside the tent yanked at his recent Civil War memories, almost taking him back to days of Captain Jake Cooper visiting his wounded Cavalry troops.  Seconds that felt like minutes passed before he shook the horrid memories of his past command.

    The big six foot four inch man stood still for a moment longer, until his sight adjusted from the bright sunlight to the dimmer interior of the tent. 

    Seriously injured, Dr. Mark Toler saw Jake enter the tent.  He awkwardly struggled to get his elbow under him and managed to rise up on his cot.  His feet dropped over the side of the cot to the canvas floor of the tent.

    Jake looked around the warm sunlit shelter, but didn’t spot Tully or Tom among the wounded.

    Jake, step over here, could you son.  His voice weak, barely audible, I need to speak to you.  Jake could see that Doc fought to speak and he leaned in a little closer to hear.

    Would you make certain my Elizabeth and Sarah are properly prepared?  Jake could see tears welling up in his eyes.  I want to bury them in a cemetery in Knoxville, not alongside this road where they died."  The tears finally broke loose and rolled from his red swollen eyes.  Jake’s hand could feel the broken sobs deep within Doc’s chest.

    After gathering himself, Doc spoke again, "Lucy told me they couldn’t save my old friend, Tom.  Not only did he work with me at my clinic, but decided to leave Virginia and go with me to Texas.  I feel responsible.  I encouraged him to go with us.  Now he’s dead.  He passed about an hour ago in his sleep.

    Jake, I’ve lost just about everyone I love.  I know you loved Sarah and cared deeply for her mother, but you just don’t know the loss of what a husband and father feels like.  For the first time in my life, I struggle with what to do.  I’ve lost my family.  God, for some reason, has left me here, still alive.  Here, so many miles from my home place and so very far from where we were going.  I’m just. . .

    Doc’s comments surfaced Jake’s own buried emotions.  The thought of the two women dead was almost more than he could bear.  His anger burned within him like simmering sagebrush just before it bursts into fire.  He held tight to his anger, there would come a day, very soon, where he would release it, and somebody would pay.

    Doc, you’re right, I don’t fully know your loss, just part of it.  Jake let that sink in with Doc and then continued.

    Don’t worry I’ll take care of them.  You don’t worry yourself about that, just get your strength back—we need you Doc.  I’m sure sorry to hear about our friend Tom.  I know he was like a brother to you.  We’ll see to him as well.

    They hadn’t noticed Lucy Martin as she made her way to where they were talking, Lay back down Dr. Toler, you’ll tear your stitches lose and you’re much too weak to be sitting up talking like this.  Help him down please, Lucy said, as Jake slowly lowered him back down, lifting his legs back onto his cot.

    Doc, get you some rest and I’ll be back a little later, I need to check on Tully.  Lucy, can I see you outside for just a moment.

    Lucy pulled the thin blanket back up on Dr. Toler, kissed him lightly on his forehead, and followed Jake out of the tent.

    How’s he doing, he looks really weak.

    Doc’s tough.  I believe he’ll be just fine, if infection doesn’t set in.  He did lose a lot of blood and yes, he’s weak, and it will be a slow recovery for him.  He want have Elizabeth or Sarah to help him get better.

    When I first saw him under his wagon with Elizabeth, he looked like a goner. 

    "We’ve lost six folks and have another seven seriously injured.  Dr. Adams and Martha McClary, his nurse, are in the other tent.  She showed up while you were away with the sheriff.  They are working on Alex Donavon right now.  He’s got two bullets lodged in his chest close to his heart.  Quite honestly, and I hate to say it, but I don’t believe he’ll make it.  He has lost so much blood and the bullets are so deep and near a main heart artery.

    Doc Adams said Mr. Donovan would have a much better chance if he were in his operating room in Knoxville.  He said he could also bring in another doctor friend who’s a better surgeon than himself.

    Well, if he can hold on, maybe we can get him there tomorrow.  I didn’t see Tully, how is he doing?

    He’s in the other tent.  Doc Adams is giving him a good chance of recovery.  Tully’s tough as old rawhide.  Doc Adams has him patched up pretty good, but he’s gonna be laid up for a while too, I’m afraid.  He came close to dying and would have if Doc Adams had not showed up when he did.

    "How are you holding up? 

    "Can I get you anything?

    You need something maybe to eat or drink?  I know you’ve been on your feet since the attack.  You gotta be beyond tired.

    "Yes, I am tired, but those folks in the tents need me.  I’ll be fine.  Sam brought me some of Pete’s leftovers a little earlier and I’ve had plenty of coffee.  Thanks for asking.  Maybe I can get some sleep tonight.  Feels like I’m already asleep on my feet. 

    Oh, and by the way, how are you holding up, you’re the one who got shot twice.

    "I’m real sore, stiff, and it hurts to move.  I let Dakota run on the way back to camp and I’m paying for it now.  Fortunately, the wounds were flesh wounds, didn’t hit any bones or arteries.  I should be okay in a couple more days.  Those stitches you laced me up with seem to be holding. 

    I’ll check in a little later on Doc and Tully, I’m gonna try and find out what Henry’s plans are, and then take care of Sarah, Elizabeth, and Tom.  Thanks Lucy for all you’ve done.  I’ll share your concern for Alex Donovan to Henry.  Sounds like he needs to get to Knoxville or his chance to live might be slim to none.

    Placing her hands on Jake’s arm, I’m so sorry about Sarah and Elizabeth I know you loved them both, we’ll all miss them greatly, Lucy said.

    Thanks, yes I’m going to miss them.  They were kind and compassionate, completely harmless to the men who snuffed out their lives for no reason.

    Jake turned away abruptly to untie Dakota from the tree limb.  He gave Lucy

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