Cattle Drive to Hell (Preview)

Prologue

Jessica Anne Armstrong, known as Jessie to her friends in Rio Blanco, Texas, let her horse walk slowly on their way home that day. She’d had a long day in the sewing shop, having to do some complicated repair work by the end of the day—under the watchful eye of Mr. Strasburg, who made sure every stitch was perfect. If one was off, it all came undone and Jessie would have to start over.

It was fair to say Jessie hated the job. It was just another thorn in her side, like everything else in her life.

Born a natural optimist, Jessie had a difficult time dealing with the overwhelming negativity in her life. She’d enjoyed her natural positivity until she was old enough to realize that her personality didn’t reflect the reality of her life. She worked in a high-stress environment with an overbearing boss and went home to two parents who fought constantly, dragging her into the middle of their quarrels whenever she was around.

She whistled for Sally, her beautiful two-year-old border collie, who came to work with her every day.

It was fair to say Jessie hated her life. She longed for change but had no idea how to get out. Her job in the sewing shop didn’t pay enough for her to save, especially not with her father knowing how much money she made and demanding most of it whenever she got paid. Mr. Strasburg didn’t pay her. He paid her father, and her father gave her some of the money. Most of the time. She had to give him credit for that. At least she got something.

It took an extra ten minutes to get home because she let the horse graze in a nearby field while she relaxed and got in some quiet time to think. Sally especially appreciated it as she ran through the meadow, burrowing her nose into flower beds and brush, looking for critters to play with and scare the daylights out of. She’d been racking her brain for ways to escape the hellhole she called her life. So far, the only thing she’d concluded from her brief quiet time in the fields was that she liked the smell of flowers. Any kind, as long as they were colorful. She could spend all day in those fields of flowers and tall grass, playing with Sally, even just sitting in the low branches of the trees. It was quiet there.

Jessie’s heart started to beat a little harder when she saw the cottage coming up. She’d be home in less than a minute. She didn’t want to go in.

She got closer and narrowed her eyes at the sight of an unfamiliar horse tied to the hitching rail in front of the fence that surrounded the property. Sliding out of the saddle, she ran her eyes over the horse, looking for something that might help her recognize it. It wasn’t her father or mother’s horse. Her mother didn’t have a horse of her own, really. Maybe her father had bought one for her.

No, this horse and saddle looked well used. The saddle especially was very masculine.

Jessie’s anxiety skyrocketed. Her heart slammed with fear and she had trouble breathing because of it. Taking short quick breaths, she went to the front door, paused to gather herself, and went in.

“Go on, Sally,” she said, her voice weak. She flapped one hand to her pet. “Go on and play.”

The dog hesitated, looking at her, but she waved her hand once more and Sally turned and darted across the lawn toward the back where the pasture always proved to be good fun for the dog.

Her parents were in the sitting room to the right of the small foyer. The door was open and she could see them on the couch, facing a man who had his back to her. When her mother’s eyes flicked to her, the man stood up and turned around.

Jessie flinched as if she’d been struck. He didn’t have a familiar face and she was sure if she’d seen him before she would remember. He wasn’t a terribly ugly man; in fact, he was nominally handsome. But he was at least twenty years older than her and had a long scar going from in front of his left earlobe to the crease between his lips on that side of his face. It looked like someone had attempted to cut his face in half on that side.

He was taller than she was used to, as well. At least six feet, maybe more.

“This is Jessie,” her father said without greeting her.

“What’s goin’ on here?” she asked, moving her eyes from each of her parents to the man and repeating the movement, her eyebrows shooting up.

The man stepped forward, his hand extended. “I’m Peter Townsend. Your father and I have made an arrangement about your future. We are going to be married.”

Jessie felt numb from head to toe. “What?” She could barely get the word out. She turned her eyes to her mother, the only one who had ever tried to defend her in the past. Her father wasn’t a kind man, but he wasn’t physically brutal to her or her mother. Would he really sell her to the highest bidder?

“Ma? Are you all right with this? Don’t you want me here with you anymore? I can try to make more money. I don’t want to be sent away.”

All while she said the words, the first ones that came to her mind, she was speaking only half-heartedly. She did want change. Maybe this could be a good thing. Maybe Peter would be a good husband and be kind to her.

“It’s what your father wants,” her mother replied, not looking at Jessie. “It’s what’s best for you. We’ve agreed, and Peter has been gracious enough to take you into his home. You should be grateful.”

Her words came out in a deadened tone, dull and lifeless. That was what Jessie’s father, Samuel, had done to her. He’d taken a beautiful young woman and turned her into this… this useless lump.

Tears filled Jessie’s eyes. She didn’t want to end up like her mother. She wanted vibrance and life and adventure and fun. She looked at Peter closely, wondering what was in store for her.

“I don’t even know you,” she said vehemently. “Why should I marry you?”

“You’ll do as you’re told, that’s why.” Her father’s voice was gruff when he spoke. She turned her eyes to him. Her mother might not want to look at her, but her father didn’t mind a bit. His cold eyes narrowed. “You will do as you are told.”

Jessie clenched her jaw. She wanted to rebel just because he was telling her what to do, but she saw no point. She would, in fact, do as she was told. In the back of her mind, she wondered what would become of her beloved Sally.

She gave her mother and father one last long look before turning on her heel, mumbling, “I’ll go pack.”

And that was just what she did.

Chapter One

Four years had passed since that fateful day in Jessie’s life. Things had gone from bad to worse. Peter wasn’t a good husband, after all. Not only did he not provide her with fun, adventure, or happiness, but he was neglectful in every way imaginable. He was too old to care about having children, so his desires in that area were null.

Jessie hadn’t been touched in an intimate way since the day of their marriage. Their marriage could be annulled for that reason, but as things stood at that moment in time, there was no need to pursue a divorce or annulment.

Peter was going to die.

Jessie watched him stumble across the room, cursing her with everything in him. He had come at her for the last time.

“What have you done?” he grunted, adding a curse word as he grabbed the side of the counter.

“I didn’t burn your dinner!” Jessie yelled at him, holding the gun still aimed at him, hand trembling but ready to pull the trigger again if he came at her one more time. “I didn’t leave your shirts wrinkled! I’ve been a model wife to you, and you will never lay a hand on me again! You’ll never lay a hand on any woman again! I know what you’ve been up to—I know you’ve been thieving and conniving in town with those lowlife clients of yours. I can’t believe one of them hasn’t killed us in our sleep!”

Peter’s large house was placed squarely in the middle of a neighborhood of similar large homes in Fort Worth. He was a lawyer, and a very successful one at that.

He’d come home for dinner already in a rage. She could still feel the burn of his hands around her throat. She lifted one hand and touched it, tears coming to her eyes. But she blinked them away.

She blinked the memory away.

“I was ready for you this time, wasn’t I, Peter?” she growled through gritted teeth. “You’ve been nothing but a ruthless, brutal monster to me since I came into this house. I’ve had it with your allotment for food and clothing. I’m not your servant. I’m done living this life and being hurt by you every single day. I deserve better.”

“You deserve exactly what you’re given.”

She couldn’t believe he was still moving. Wasn’t he losing enough blood to at least pass out so she could escape? She’d been saving money and hiding it from Peter.

She hadn’t known it would actually come to this… with him struggling to take a breath, a bullet wound in his chest. She hadn’t hit the mark. She’d practiced and practiced while he was at work or wherever else he spent his time. She’d still missed and hadn’t put the bullet in his treacherous, cold heart. She’d probably only missed by a little—it seemed the bullet might have gone into or through a lung by the way he was struggling to breathe and the gurgling sound that came and went with every breath.

Every last breath.

Jessie didn’t take her eyes off him. She took a few steps closer as he leaned on the edge of the counter, trying to get to the knife drawer. What would he do with a knife? She had a gun.

“What are you doing, Peter?” she asked in a calm voice. “You trying to get a knife? Sad that you don’t have the gun I have? Don’t like having the tables turned on you, do you? You deceitful parasite.” She tilted her head, her heart thumping in her chest. She didn’t have long before the neighbors would come flooding to the house. All the fights they’d had to have heard. All the screams she’d let out, calling for help and no one came while he beat her senseless time and again.

But now they would come. The sound of a gunshot would bring them out of their houses, for certain.

Peter turned to her and growled. He pushed off the counter and came toward her, lurching, his arms outstretched. “You will pay for this, you vulturous woman.”

Jessie raised the gun again. “Don’t you touch me, Peter Townsend. Don’t you touch me again or I will put you out of your misery.”

He snarled and launched himself at her. She pulled the trigger but wasn’t sure she hit him because he made contact with her and they both fell to the ground with him on top of her. She shrieked and frantically pushed him off. When he rolled to the side, his arms flapping out, his knuckles hitting the kitchen floor, his eyes wide open… She had hit the mark this time.

He was dead.

And she had to get out of the house. Now.

Seconds after putting an end to Peter’s existence, Jessie sprang into action. She bolted through the house to get the bag she’d prepared for this occasion. She hadn’t known when she would be able to use it. She just knew it would be needed eventually.

The neighbors were coming, just as she predicted. She heard shouting outside the house. They were calling her name and Peter’s. Were they all right? Everything all right?

No, Jessie thought with conviction. Everything was not all right.

She had just made herself a fugitive and a murderer. That was something she wasn’t likely to shake for a very, very long time. Her survival instincts were what she had to count on now.

She grabbed a coat of Peter’s that, since she was shorter than him, would reach Jessie’s ankles. Bundling it up with the bag, she headed for the cellar door. There was a way to get out of the house through the cellar and no one would see her emerging from the thick brush surrounding the entrance.

She’d set everything up in advance. Once she was at the bottom of the steps down into the cellar, she pulled a box of matches from her pocket. She struck one and let it burn for only a moment before tossing it onto a pile of hay she’d placed by the wooden steps. As she went through the cellar to the door going out, she threw match after match on the piles of hay and cloth. At the door, she’d poured oil from three of the lanterns. She wanted to be outside when they caught. They were going to burn like fires of Hades.

Jessie ran through the door and up the steps, ducking under the overgrowth from the trees on both sides. She turned and looked back, waiting for the lantern oil to catch fire. When it did, she saw the flames grow wild, eating up the house, pouring black smoke into the dusky evening. Neighbors from across the street and to the left and right had emerged from their homes and were standing in awe.

Soon, the fire brigade would be there, and they would attempt to put out the flames. But Jessie had been ready for weeks. She’d only been waiting for the right time.

This certainly seemed like the right time to her.

She had to get to the train station. She’d buy a ticket as far as possible and try to make her way back to Rio Blanco. Not that she wanted to. She’d come to Fort Worth on a coach and had absolutely no idea how to get back home. Maybe there would be a train to take her there.

Chapter Two

Two days later, Jessie stepped off the train in Pecos, leaving her with a four-hour coach ride before she arrived at her parents’ ranch. She wasn’t looking forward to it.

Pecos was a small, dirty town with friendly people who nodded and smiled at her as she walked to the coach station. The main road she was on stretched on for as far as she could see. The land was fairly flat. Behind the buildings on the right side was nothing but desert plain, plenty of cacti, and probably a roadrunner or two.

On the other side, behind the shops, the church, and the Brown Dog Saloon, was a gigantic mountain that stretched up into the sky like a looming giant. They would go around that mountain to get to Rio Blanco, according to her map. “They” being whoever she got to drive her there.

She stopped in front of the coach station. It was quiet inside. Peeking through the window, she saw the ticket window inside, where a young man was looking to the side, talking to someone Jessie couldn’t see.

She was anxious and looked around her, feeling like she was being watched. When she saw no one taking any particular interest in her, she told herself she was being paranoid. No one here could possibly know she had killed Peter back in Fort Worth. There would be no wanted posters for her.

Jessie was counting on the fire having burned up the entire house. It was raging pretty good when she left. She’d made sure of that, putting flammable items all over the house on the floor to ensure it would light up quickly.

What if she stayed in Pecos for a couple days? Got to know some of the people? Maybe she would just stay here.

A second look around told her she didn’t want to stay there. The people looked friendly, but not prosperous in any way. At least in Rio Blanco she’d have a chance to live in a big ranch house surrounded by people she’d known all her life. Plus, as rotten as they were, her parents were there, and they would give her shelter. She was sure of it.

If her father turned her away, she would hide. She knew plenty of places. She would sleep in the barn.

Anything… anything was better than living one more day under the ruthless thumb of her now-deceased husband.

“Hello there!”

Jessie turned abruptly, looking up to the driver’s seat of a coach that had pulled up alongside her on the curb of the street. The young man sitting there was grinning wide. He lifted one hand and tipped his hat back in further greeting.

“How ya doin’?” he asked. Jessie couldn’t help smiling back at him. He gave off a very friendly feeling, and it seemed genuine. “You lookin’ for a ride?”

Jessie tilted her head to the side. “Why, yes, I am. How did you know?”

“Yer lookin’ kinda lost. You wanna climb up here and talk about it or should I come down and…” As he spoke, he was in the process of climbing down from the seat of the coach.

He hopped to the ground in front of her. He was only a bit taller than her, an obvious teenager, and had the brightest features she had ever seen. His hair was straw-yellow, a color she couldn’t remember seeing on anyone in her lifetime. His eyes were shockingly blue with hints of green, two pools of swimming sea water that gazed out at her with energy and excitement.

She stuck out her hand instinctively. What were the chances she’d meet such a kindred spirit out here in the middle of nowhere?

“Jessie Armstrong,” she introduced herself. “And you would be?”

“I’m Walter Harris, but my friends call me Walt. You can call me Walt, if ya like.”

Jessie nodded, her grin widening. “I’m Jessica, and my friends call me Jessie. In fact, no one calls me Jessica. At all.”

“Ma and Pa?” Walt suggested, raising one eyebrow with a comical look on his face.

“Maybe my ma,” Jessie responded, smiling. “But since you asked, yeah, I do need help. I’m trying to get to Rio Blanco. You know where that is?” She lifted one arm pointing east. “It’s due east about four hours.”

He nodded. “Yeah, that’s on my route. I’ve been through there a couple times.”

“You’ve been driving this coach a long time?” Jessie wondered just how old the young man was. Did she dare ask? Would he take offense? She didn’t want him to. She already liked him. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d met anyone she might consider calling a friend.

Had she ever?

At twenty-five, she didn’t think much of the life she’d led so far. When she married Townsend, she’d been hoping for the change she needed to bring her into herself. But that still hadn’t happened, and she’d only suffered four long years of misery and brutality.

She needed peace. Unfortunately, she was certain that peace was a long time coming.

“About a year now. Inherited the business from my pa. Just have this one coach, but I do a lot of drivin’ for people, takin’ ‘em where they need to go for a good penny.” He eyed her up and down, his smile remaining. “You got any money? I don’t work for free.”

Jessie took his words lightly and eyed him just as directly. “I might have some money you can bargain for. I was hoping to schmooze you first and see if you’d do it for free because we’re such good friends.”

She laughed, hoping he would get her joke. His grin stayed where it was and she got a chuckle out of him.

“Tell you what,” he said, “since you obviously just got off the train, how about you come with me to the inn? They’ll give us some good food and you can wash up and maybe change into a new dress.”

I’d have to buy one, Jessie thought but kept it to herself. She nodded instead. “I’d like that,” she replied. “Lead the way.”

***

After eating a good meal and cleaning up in the washroom, Jessie and Walt set out on their journey to Rio Blanco. Walt had named a good price that was in her range, and she had accepted. She had expected to have to pay much more, but he told her he was going to Rio Blanco himself and couldn’t bring himself to charge her more when he was already going there.

Jessie thought about that a lot during the four-hour trek around the huge mountain and into Rio Blanco territory.

“You live in Rio Blanco?” Jessie asked when they could see the town in the distance. “I lived there up until four years ago and I don’t remember you.”

“I wouldn’t have been at the schoolhouse with you,” Walt replied. “I was taught at home by my grandma, who lived with us until she went to Heaven a couple years ago. I really miss her.” He made the sign of a cross in front of him and looked up, sending a kiss from the tips of two fingers.

“I don’t know any of my relatives. Grandparents or any uncles or aunts. I don’t think anyone is still alive. Or they stopped speaking to my parents for whatever reason. My parents are very polarizing. Not many friends.”

Walt gave her a reluctant look. “I gotta say, I don’t remember my pa ever sayin’ anything about the Armstrongs. Don’t know if that’s good or bad. Pa gets along with most people. I reckon if he ever had a problem with your folks, he would have said something. I’m sixteen, but I been running the coach since I was twelve. Pa got sick about a year ago and that’s when I took over fully.”

Jessie noticed the change in his voice when he said his pa was sick. Her heart went out to him. His eyes sharpened on the house as they approached.

“That the one? Looks like they’re havin’ a get-together.”

Jessie looked at the house as they rode toward it on the familiar dirt path. He was right.

Chapter Three

“What’s going on here?” Jessie asked, darting up the steps to the front door, which was wide open. Why was the door open? What were all those buggies doing out there?

She spotted Jacob Wheeler, whose ranch was across the way. She swept her eyes around the room as she moved quickly toward him. He saw her and his face fell, which made her even more confused. Shouldn’t he be pleased to see her?

“Jessica,” the old man said, hobbling in her direction. She’d just told Walt earlier that day that no one called her Jessica and here he was, doing just that. “You poor, dear girl. How did you find out so quickly? We just sent a messenger out yesterday.”

A messenger? Had none of these people heard of a telegram?

Then again, she wouldn’t have gotten that either. She would have been on the road already if they’d sent it the day before.

“What’s going on?” she repeated, turning her head, noticing that so many of the people around her in black. She knew what that meant. “Where is Ma? Where is Pa?”

Jacob put a thin, wrinkly hand on her shoulder. She marveled at how soft his touch was and her heart sank.

“They’ve crossed the veil, dear. They’ve gone to their place in Heaven, if’n that’s where they was goin’.”

Jessie knew exactly what the man meant by that. Her father’s cruelty to others was well known. And her mother, a weak woman from the beginning, was gone, too. How was it that she couldn’t feel too much shock about it?

“What happened to them? Did they get sick?”

“I believe that was it, yes,” the old man replied, his eyes skirting the room. “You can ask Doc Jenkins. He’s here somewhere. He’s the one who pronounced ‘em dead.”

“What about Sally? Do you know where she is?”

He gave her a confused look. “Who?”

Her heart plummeted. Her dog was gone.

Jessie spun on her heel and looked back toward the door where Walt was standing, his hat in his hand, a sorrowful look on his face. She glanced over her shoulder at the old man who’d so kindly given her the information she needed.

“Thank you, Mr. Wheeler. You are… a kind man.”

She couldn’t think of anything else to say. She hurried back to Walt, taking him by the upper arm and steering him back out on the porch. It wrapped all the way around to the back.

She didn’t say anything to Walt until they were at the back. She put her hand on the railing.

“My parents…” she mumbled. “They’re… they’re…”

Walt nodded, coming up beside her and resting one hand on her shoulder, the same way Jacob had done. “I know they passed, Jessie. You don’t have to say it.”

Jessie stood for a moment, trying to process what had happened. She was their only child. This ranch and the cattle they owned were now hers. She was about to find out just how wealthy her father had been. Or how deep in debt he was. How many people did he owe? How did he run his business?

She was fully sure one of the reasons her father had married her off to Townsend was because she’d told him just how much she hated the ranch life. She had zero doubt he had left the ranch and cattle and business to her just to annoy her and make her have to do work she didn’t enjoy for the rest of her life.

Well, Jessie had other plans.

She wasn’t holding onto this ranch. There was no reason to do so. She would sell it, take the money, and go somewhere to start an orphanage. That was what she really wanted to do—provide a place for children who had lost their parents. She could say she was an orphan because that was technically true, even if she had become one as an adult, which most people did eventually.

“Walt. How well do you know the other men in town? Or do you think your father could help me? I think I might want to sell the ranch and leave this place.”

“You don’t like Rio Blanco?” He sounded more curious than anything else.

“I just don’t want to be where I grew up,” she said. “I wanted adventure and excitement and fun when I left the first time, but that wasn’t what was in store for me. I was married off to a brutal man who hurt me in many, many ways. Now I want peace, but I also want to have a full life. Does that make sense?”

“I think the money you get from selling this place could help you do that. Do you think anyone will want it?”

Jessie looked at the few people walking around in the ranch house. Several men were eyeing things just a little differently than the others. They were familiar to her, but she didn’t know their names.

She turned her eyes back to Walt. “Will you stay with me for a while? I might need your help.”

Walt lifted one corner of his lips in a lopsided grin. “Yeah, I don’t mind that. Sure.”

Jessie felt more comfortable with him by her side, even though he was still a very young man. Maybe someday she would stand on her own two feet, but for now, she needed someone to lean on. She was a fugitive and a murderer—she needed to sell this house and disappear as fast as she could.

She turned to go back to the front of the house.

“Let’s see if anyone will help me sell the place.”

---

“Cattle Drive to Hell” is an Amazon Best-Selling novel, check it out here!

Jessie Hart stands on the precipice of a daunting quest, her parents tragically pass and her own marriage falls apart. With her family’s legacy hanging by a thread and danger whispering from the shadows, Jessie is thrust into an epic challenge. A perilous cattle drive across the treacherous landscapes to California, a venture fraught with bandits, rival ranchers, and the harsh realities of the wilderness.

Ready or not, her path will be filled with danger…

Butch Thompson, a weathered cowboy with a heart of gold, joins Jessie’s quest seeking redemption for his haunted past. As he navigates the treacherous desert together, his courage and resilience shine amidst the peril. Yet, will Butch’s inner demons prove more daunting than the dangers that lurk?

He must escape death at every turn of the road…

As Jessie and Butch battle through the untamed frontiers, their journey transcends mere survival putting their very souls on the line… With each step, the question looms larger: Will they carve a path to victory through the daunting obstacles, or will the quest claim them as its latest victims in the unforgiving wilderness of the West?

“Cattle Drive to Hell” is a historical adventure novel of approximately 60,000 words. No cliffhangers, only pure unadulterated action.

Get your copy from Amazon!