The Pursuit of an Evil Criminal (Preview)

Prologue

Ryder turned his hazel eyes toward the ranch house up on the hill. He hadn’t seen it since last Christmas, but it looked no worse for wear. His father and brother took good care of it. They didn’t need him, and he was glad to hear it.

It was his brother’s birthday, and he’d come all the way from Tumbleweed – a small town three hours away – to celebrate with his family. While he always enjoyed the time he spent at home, on this particular occasion, he had reason to not want to go at all.

Clyde would be 28 years old, and this celebration wouldn’t just be a family affair. He was well known in Deep Caverns, Texas, the town Ryder and his brother had grown up in. Ryder had been gone for three years and had spent two of them employed in Tumbleweed as a sheriff.

The reason for his transfer to Tumbleweed would likely be a guest at Clyde’s celebration.

The closer Ryder got to the ranch, the more apprehensive he felt. She would be there, it was certain. Grace Morgan. The woman who’d stolen Ryder’s heart without even knowing it. He’d been unable to tell her how he felt. She and Clyde were a well-established couple in Deep Caverns, having done everything together since they’d all been students at the schoolhouse. Why they weren’t married was a mystery.

If Ryder had given one indication as to how he felt about her, there would have been drama.

Deep Caverns was filled with gracious people, the kind that made good neighbors. They could be relied on in a pinch. Or a flood. The dirt roads stretched out this way and that from the main road that passed through the business district of town, where the saloon, the restaurant, and the barber shop were located. The town council planted trees along the main road and some Deep Caverns citizens had contributed their own decorations along the side roads.

All in all, for a Texas desert town, it was a beautiful place to live.

Ryder missed it, as Tumbleweed didn’t have the resources or the community fellowship he’d enjoyed in Deep Caverns. The little town where he was sheriff was quiet and sleepy most of the time, with very little for him to do. There was a good deal of older people in the community, and they saw no need to make things beautiful for visitors. They didn’t want anyone moving there. They liked it the way it was.

And they had loudly expressed that view at a town meeting just two weeks ago. He didn’t know how he was supposed to keep people from moving to Tumbleweed. Every town grew, eventually.

He didn’t want to admit it even to himself, but he’d missed Deep Caverns in the three years he’d been gone.

Ryder sighed as he pulled the horse up between two others and slid from the saddle. He threw the reins around the hitching post and made his way around the animals to the porch steps. Already, he could hear music from the inside. Someone was playing the guitar and singing a loud and raucous song. Feet were stamping out a beat. He was sure he’d see people dancing around the main room when he opened the door.

He couldn’t help smiling. His brother was an excited man, filled with life, vim, and vigor. He worked hard, and when he took time off to be with his family and celebrate various events, he was the life of the party.

Ryder looked through the windows as he crossed the porch to the front door. He stopped when he saw his brother, who was seated with his back to a window on a stool, facing into the room. He was the one holding a guitar and the foot he placed on the ground was the one stomping the loudest. He was singing at the top of his lungs, a huge smile on his face.

Grace was standing behind him.

Chills covered Ryder’s arms. She was more beautiful than he’d imagined she could possibly be. He hadn’t seen her for almost two years. He didn’t think it was possible for her to be more attractive than she had been then.

It might have just been the smile on her face. Her lips were rose red, her green eyes flashing in the sunlight beaming in through the window at the front of the house. She was singing, too.

When she and Clyde ended the song, everyone cheered. The two looked at each other in astonishment and both burst out laughing. Grace lifted her slender hand and ruffled it through Clyde’s blond hair.

Ryder felt a stab of jealousy, followed quickly by a feeling of guilt. He didn’t want to be petty. He was proud of his brother. He just wished it was he who received Grace’s attention and affection.

He continued to the door and swung it open, striding through the foyer to the main room with as much confidence as he could muster. He wasn’t about to let them know how he felt. He’d left so they wouldn’t know.

The double doors were open, and Clyde saw him before he was in the room. He jumped up from the stool and called out, “Brother! My brother Ryder has returned! The prodigal son has come home!”

Ryder felt his face getting hot, which made him blush harder. All eyes in the room turned to him.

“Cut it out, Clyde,” he murmured bashfully.

His brother strode across the crowded room, first handing off his guitar to Grace, who took it and set it aside.

Clyde met him with a big bear hug. Ryder returned the hug, patting his brother firmly on the back. “Happy birthday, Clyde, my brother. I left your present in my saddle bag. I’ll give it to ya before I go home.”

“Sounds good, Ryder!” Clyde replied cheerfully. He pulled back and held Ryder at arm’s length. “I’m just glad to see you home again, my brother. I sure do miss havin’ you around here.”

Ryder nodded, keeping his eyes away from Grace as she crossed the room toward them. “I miss you, too, Clyde. All the time.”

“Then come on home!” Clyde exclaimed, as if it were the obvious answer.

Ryder let his eyes slide to the beautiful Grace Morgan, who was giving him one of her gorgeous smiles. “Wish I could, Clyde. For now, Tumbleweed needs me.”

“That’s a real shame, you know,” Grace put in. The sound of her voice was music to Ryder’s ears. “He talks about you all the time. When he says he misses you, he means it.”

Ryder smiled at his brother. “Maybe someday. Probably not soon, but maybe someday, I’ll come back.”

Chapter One

Ryder thought about the celebration all the way home to Tumbleweed early the next morning. He’d had breakfast with his family and bid them farewell, receiving another one of his brother’s massive bear hugs before he left. With crunched bones, he’d been instructed not to stay away so long next time.

He’d agreed under the condition that his brother release him immediate so he could breathe again.

The memory brought a smile to Ryder’s face. He lifted his hat off his head with one hand and ran the other through his thick, blond hair. He and his brother shared many features, and were sometimes mistaken for twins. They both had sculpted faces with high cheekbones, the faces of warriors. If only Grace had chosen him over his slightly younger brother…

He shook his head. It wasn’t to be. He had to let it go. Her choice probably had nothing to do with looks, anyway. She was 29 and Ryder was 30.

He sighed. He loved his brother. He would never do anything to harm him. But if there was one thing he could change, it would be that Grace loved him, instead.

He let himself remember the night before, how he and Clyde had teamed up in several games, showing off their deductive skills and counting on the luck of the Irish for their success. He laughed, remembering how Grace had teased them both, saying she didn’t believe it was their Irish roots that made them lucky. She knew they were cheating, and she meant to find out how if it was the death of her.

She’d been very serious when she said it, holding her nose up in the air and crossing her arms over her chest. But the look had only lasted a few seconds before she was peeking through those blond lashes at them both to see what their reactions were.

As for himself, he’d lifted one eyebrow and sat back in his chair, mimicking her arms-crossed posture. Clyde chuckled, shaking his head and holding one hand out to her. She took it with a smile and came to stand by his side.

The memory that had started out as funny and entertaining turned sour when Ryder allowed himself to see the picture Clyde and Grace made. When they looked at each other, everyone could see how they felt about each other.

It made him want to throw a tantrum like a child.

But he bottled it up and did nothing. There was nothing he could do.

Now, he rode along at a slow and steady pace, watching as he passed long fields of green and yellow cornstalks up to his head, streams creeping through groups of trees, critters crunching over the fallen leaves. There wasn’t much to get back to. He was in no hurry.

If he got back and there was anything more than a dog gone missing for him to look into, he’d be stunned speechless.

He leaned forward and patted the horse on his broad neck. “It’s just you and me, Lucky. It’s always just gonna be you and me. I can feel it now. I don’t know what I’ll do when you go, old boy. There’ll never be another like you.”

Lucky lifted his head and swept it back and forth as if he understood and agreed that, indeed, there never would be another horse like him.

Ryder chuckled, affection for the animal passing through him. He really would be devastated when Lucky died. He’d been a gift from Ryder’s father when he’d turned 15, and Ryder had been riding him ever since. The time would come soon when his old horse would have to be retired.

It wouldn’t be hard to find another solid brown horse with a small white dot on his forehead, and a white mane and tail. But it would be hard to find one that Ryder bonded with so well. Sometimes, Lucky went in the direction Ryder wanted him to without being led. He was an intelligent horse, almost as stubborn as a donkey. There had been times when Ryder’s direction would have taken them into danger, and Lucky’s refusal had saved Ryder on more than one occasion.

They meandered down the road at a slow pace, and Ryder tried not to think about Grace. He could still see her with the sun shining around her like a halo, her slender body covered in a pair of trousers and a tucked flannel shirt. She always kept her blond hair in two French braids that ran around the top of her head and met in the back, where they joined together and fell down almost to her waist.

He had seen her only once with her hair loose and flowing. She’d looked like an angel coming straight from heaven. That was two years ago, and her hair was even longer now. He tried not to imagine what it would be like to run his hands through her hair and kiss those rosy lips of hers.

He pushed the thought from his mind, guilt and shame tightening his chest. He had to stop thinking about her.

He was relieved when he saw the Tumbleweed town limits in the distance—he needed a drink. He was good friends with the owner of the saloon, Hal Lewis. Hal was also the only man who knew the real reason for Ryder leaving Deep Caverns.

Just as he’d suspected, there was nothing going on in Tumbleweed. He lifted his hat to Mrs. Campbell and Mrs. Green, who were just stepping out of the small dress shop they ran together. They both nodded at him, smiling. He passed them by, moving his eyes to focus on The Grey Spoon, which served as a restaurant during the day and turned into a saloon at night. There wasn’t much difference, except the men were there in the evenings and the ladies and families were there during the day.

Ryder had never seen a man thrown through the swinging double doors or broken up a fight in or around it.

It was a peaceful town.

Being paid to be the sheriff was like working for nothing. He knew the low crime rate had nothing to do with his policing skills. Nothing ever happened in Tumbleweed. They didn’t even see any fallout crime from nearby towns.

He stopped in front of the saloon and dismounted, then tossed the reins over the post and skipped up the steps two at a time.

He was relieved to see very few people inside. After strolling to the counter on the other side of the room, he slid onto one of the stools, immediately tapping the bar with his fingers. He wasn’t drawing attention to himself. It was just a habit he had whenever he sat at a bar. He continued to tap until he decided what he wanted to eat and drink.

Hal came out from the back a few minutes later and saw him at the bar.

He lifted his head in a single nod. “Mornin’, Sheriff. Didja have a good time at your brother’s birthday party?”

Ryder nodded. “Surprisingly, yes. A better time than I’d anticipated, anyway.”

“Did the lady show up?”

Ryder turned so he was facing the counter instead of away from it, lifting both arms to rest on the surface in front of him. “Oh, yeah. I expected that, though. She’s been going around with my brother for years. I don’t see them stopping anytime soon.”

Hal shook his head, setting a filled beer mug in front of Ryder. Ryder looked at it in surprise; he hadn’t even noticed Hal filling the glass. “I figured you were gonna need this. Been keepin’ it cold for ya all mornin’.”

Ryder lifted his eyebrows. “I appreciate that, Hal.” He lifted the cold mug and turned it up to drink half down in a few gulps. The warm feeling the cold liquid left behind made him feel calm. “You know, I probably should have said something while I was there. I should have told her how I feel.”

Hal snorted. “Told her how you feel? Sorry, Sheriff, but that ship has sailed. You left three years ago because you couldn’t do that to your brother. And you want me to believe you would have done it to him on his birthday? I don’t think so. Not the kind of man you are.”

Ryder studied his friend, an older gentleman with a long white mustache that hung down over the sides of his lips. He was chubby, with a large round belly that shook when he laughed like Santa Claus. He was just as jolly, too, but could move at such a lightning fast speed, it sometimes took Ryder off-guard. Despite Hal’s size, Ryder would be willing to let him be a deputy if he ever needed one.

Not that he’d ever need one. Nothing ever happened in Tumbleweed.

“I’m glad you think so well of me,” he said in a smooth voice, lifting the beer mug once more. “That makes me feel good about myself.”

“It should. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with you, Ryder. She just didn’t see it in time, that’s all.”

Ryder nodded. “You’re right, of course. I let the opportunity slide to tell her how I felt. I’m to blame for my own misery.” He shook his head, expecting Hal to say something comforting. But when nothing was said, he looked up at his friend, who was also shaking his head.

“When you’re right, you’re right,” Hal agreed in a sympathetic voice.

Ryder sighed heavily. “Well, give me another one of these. I’m gonna drown my sorrows today and go at it again in the mornin’.”

Hal’s thick, white eyebrows shot up and his blue eyes sparkled with amusement. “If you go gettin’ drunk today, who’s gonna watch over the fine citizens of Tumbleweed and keep us all safe from the dangerous outlaws out there?”

Ryder snorted, grateful when Hal set another beer down in front of him. “Ain’t nothin’ ever gonna happen in Tumbleweed. Probably why everyone thinks I’m such a good sheriff—nothin’ happens for me to enforce the law.”

Hal chuckled and leaned toward Ryder, his large arms crossed on the bar in front of him. “Everybody likes you here because you’re a good man. You’d probably be a good sheriff in a town where bad things happen, too.”

Ryder laughed with his friend. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Hal. I appreciate ya.” He lifted the mug in salute to his friend, who just smiled wide and nodded.

“Always, Sheriff. We’re glad to have you in our town. But I’ll tell you one thing you might not know.”

Ryder gave him a curious look. “What would that be?”

“If you ever decide to go back to Deep Caverns, we’ll all know why. And we might miss ya, but we won’t be pinin’ for you to come back. We all want you to be happy, too, ya know? You deserve it, just as much as anyone else. That woman would make you happy. But maybe another will come along and do the job just as nicely.”

Ryder appreciated his friend’s candor and told him so. He spent another hour in the saloon with Hal, watching as several families came in and ordered a hot breakfast. They were happy families with children, laughing and having a good time together.

That’s what he wanted. And he wanted it with the woman embedded so deeply in his heart, taken by none other than his own brother.

Six mugs of beer later, Ryder dragged himself from the saloon and headed to his office at the jail. He would kick his feet up on his desk and lean his chair back, cover his face with his hat, and take a nap.

He could do that because nothing ever happened in Tumbleweed.

Chapter Two

It had been a week since Ryder’s encounter with Grace at the birthday party and he was just beginning to feel the effect of seeing her wear off. He realized how numb he’d become to missing her, desiring her. He’d deadened his emotions to the point that even if another woman was to catch his eye, he doubted he would act on it. She would always be held in comparison to Grace.

That wasn’t fair to anyone. No woman deserved to hold second place in the heart of the man she loved.

He kicked back in his chair and stared out the window of his office. It was another relaxing day in Tumbleweed. He watched as Mrs. Green and Mrs. Campbell came out of their dress shop and walked slowly to the small corner restaurant that served lunchtime sandwiches and soup. He wondered briefly if the two women ever did anything without each other. They always seemed to be together. Both were widows and lived in the boarding house a few doors down from their dress shop and around the corner.

As far as he could remember, he’d never seen them apart.

Mrs. Green was chatting about something that, by the look on her face, Mrs. Campbell definitely agreed with. The other woman was nodding vigorously and encouragingly. Ryder could hear their voices, but not enough to get the gist of the conversation.

He was sure it wasn’t anything he would be interested in, anyway.

He sat forward, making the front two legs of the chair slam loudly on the ground. A groan came from one of the jail cells in the back. He picked up his night stick and walked slowly back toward the end cell where he’d put the town drunk, Angus, the night before.

“How you feelin’, Angus?” he asked, standing a few feet away from the bars and looking in at the disheveled, dirty man on the other side.

Angus was sitting up on the cot and holding his head in one hand, his long dark hair hanging in knots, making a curtain around his face. “Hey, Sheriff,” he moaned quietly. “Time is it?”

“Oh, it’s pullin’ up on noon. You’re gonna need to sleep the rest of this off at home.”

Angus shook his head, falling back on the cot and pulling one leg up. “Nah. I’ll stay here. Too noisy at home, what with the kids bein’ out of school for the summer. I don’t wanna go back there yet. Don’t make me, Sheriff. I’m beggin’ ya.”

Ryder slapped the night stick lightly in his opposite hand, more out of boredom than intimidation. “Now, you know the missus is gonna be real mad at you if you don’t go home, Angus. Why don’t you just get goin’ now?”

Ryder was only teasing him. The man came in every two weeks on a Friday night after spending too much time in the saloon, drinking and gambling some of his pay. He only did it twice a month and never gambled away everything he had, so he was still able to support his wife and three children. But it was a regular thing for him—the only way he could handle the stress of living with a raucous bunch of boys and a nagging wife.

Josie wasn’t really a nagging wife. She was a good woman, and she tried to take care of Angus. She allowed him his two Fridays a month to let loose without giving him grief over it, which was more than a lot of women Ryder had heard about, who couldn’t wait for their husbands to come home so they could start arguing and complaining.

Husband and wife disputes were about the only thing Ryder ever had to deal with in Tumbleweed. That, and the occasional lost dog or child, both of which were usually found quickly.

“Don’t make me go, boss,” Angus pleaded, one arm draped across his eyes to block out the hated light. Ryder was sure the man’s head was pounding.

“I ain’t gonna make you go,” conceded Ryder. “You just stay in there and rest for a while longer. Josie don’t need to know when you woke up.”

Angus let out a heavy sigh and peeked at Ryder under his arm, which he lifted only a few inches. “Thanks, Sheriff. I ‘preciate it.”

“Don’t mention it. You’re the only one that gives me anything to do around here.”

Angus chuckled and then moaned. “Aww, I don’t wanna laugh. Hurts. But yeah. Don’t nothin’ happen in this town. Nothin’ excitin’, anyway.”

Ryder nodded and stepped closer to the bars, leaning on the brick wall that separated the cell from the one next to it. He tucked his fingers in the waistband of his trousers and cast his hazel eyes on the hung-over man on the cot.

“I can’t figure out if I like that or not,” he said in a half-amused tone. “I mean, I don’t wish harm on nobody. But with nothin’ goin’ on, it gets boring around here. I feel like I’m not earning what I’m paid.”

Angus lifted his arm again to give Ryder a curious look. “You ain’t gettin’ paid that much to begin with, is ya? You just take that money, whatever it is, Sheriff. You’re a good man. We all feel safer havin’ ya around.”

Ryder thought about when Hal had told him something similar the day he’d gotten back from Deep Caverns. It felt good to be appreciated, even if was the saloon owner and the town drunk who showed it.

“Gonna let you get some rest, Angus. You let me know when you’re ready to go on home.”

“Okie, thanks, Sheriff.”

Ryder gave him one more long glance and wasn’t surprised when Angus’s chest was rising and falling at a steady sleeping pace before he even turned away.

He went back to his desk and sat down, staring at the ground but not really seeing it. He was lost in thought, wondering where his life was going. Was this it? Was he going to be the lawman in this one-horse town for the rest of his life? A bachelor living vicariously through his brother while swallowing his own resentment and sorrow?

He moaned. It didn’t strike him as being a very happy life—and not one he’d wanted for himself. He was sure it wasn’t what anyone else wanted for him, either. Including Grace and Clyde. If either of them knew how he saw his future, they would do something about it. He might not get Grace in the end, but they would make things better. They would make things right.

Ryder was fooling himself. He lifted his eyes and looked out the window. It wasn’t that they didn’t want to do right by him. It was just that in telling them about his feelings for Grace, he was betraying his brother and hurting the woman he loved without meaning to. What if she was deeply in love with Clyde and, when Clyde found out how his brother felt, he decided to back off, ultimately breaking Grace’s heart completely?

He couldn’t do that to either of them. Better to live a drab, nonexistent life than cause them pain because of his own selfishness.

He fixed his eyes on something beyond the main road. Dust was rising in the distance, well far from Tumbleweed but approaching quickly. They were getting a visitor. He reached forward and grabbed a cigar from the box on the corner of his desk, clipping off the end before standing up and strolling to the door.

He used a box of matches that sat near a lantern on the table by the door to light his cigar. It was imported, and he enjoyed the scent that filled his nose whenever he took a puff. He opened the front door and leaned back on the doorjamb, keeping his eyes on the approaching vehicle. He couldn’t see if it was a buggy, a coach, a single rider or multiple riders. It was out beyond the town limits, coming from the direction he’d taken to get to Deep Caverns.

There were several other towns out that way. The visitor could be from any of them—or from the train station in Dallas, for all he knew. He puffed on his cigar and watched through narrow hazel eyes, only moving them to acknowledge Mrs. Green and Mrs. Campbell going back to their shop from the corner restaurant.

As the visitor neared, Ryder was able to determine it was a single rider. He didn’t recognize the person in the saddle immediately, but he was dressed like the messenger service attached to the Pony Express that was only used in this corner of Texas.

He stepped out onto the porch, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops and clutching the cigar in his teeth. When the smoke moved in front of his eyes, he reached up and grabbed the cigar, waving his fingers through the cloud to clear it.

The rider was approaching fast. It must be something urgent. Messengers like him usually went directly to the address where the message was to be delivered. This young man wasn’t close enough yet for Ryder to make any guess where his destination might be.

He didn’t make any turns onto the few side streets that broke off from the main road and went out into the country where the farms and ranches were.

He was coming straight into town. His message, Ryder assumed, was for someone in the business district.

His chest began to tighten with anticipation when the rider continued on until it was apparent he was coming to the jail or to the corner restaurant. When the messenger pulled up in front of the jail and quickly dismounted, Ryder walked out to the edge of the porch and looked down at the young man. There were only three steps to the porch, and the messenger took them all in one leap.

Ryder got the feeling he knew him. He tilted his head to the side and studied the man’s face.

“Ryder Duncan. Do you remember me?” he said.

Although his voice was friendly and very familiar, the young man wasn’t smiling. Dread slipped its way through Ryder and he shook his head. “You look familiar, but I can’t remember your name. Do you have a message for me? What’s this about?”

“I’m Nathan Henderson. My brother is Alex, your friend from the schoolhouse in Deep Caverns.”

Memories flooded through Ryder and he suddenly recognized the young Nathan, though the last time he’d paid him any attention was ten years ago, when Nathan was about nine years old and Ryder and Nathan’s brother Alex spent a summer teaching Nathan how to fish.

He nodded. “I remember you. What’s this about? What’s happened?”

Nathan’s face was so solemn, Ryder felt his heartbeat speed up with apprehension. “I have to tell you something, Ryder, and I think you might want to sit down or something. Here, let’s sit in these chairs, here.”

Ryder wasn’t one to argue when someone said to sit down. He was a strong, slender but muscular man, but if he had a choice, he’d rather be sitting down than standing up most of the time.

The situation seemed strange, though, and Ryder hesitated before he lowered himself to one of the iron chairs in front of the jail house.

“What is it, Nathan?” he asked, his voice low.

Nathan pressed his lips together and stared at Ryder, blinking for a moment before opening his mouth and uttering the words Ryder never wanted to hear.

“It’s your brother, Ryder,” Nathan said in a teary voice. “It’s Clyde. He… he’s dead. He was killed in a bank robbery early this morning.”

Ryder dropped his head to his hands, chills running through his body. Clyde’s happy, laughing face flashed before his eyes. He pressed his palms into his eyes, but nothing could hold back the sobs of agony that ripped through his body.

Not Clyde. Not his beloved brother. A man who’d never done any harm to anyone.

“No, no,” he moaned, shaking his head. “No, no.”

“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, Ryder,” Nathan’s soft voice was sympathetic. “You have to come back. Your family needs you to come home.”

---

“The Pursuit of an Evil Criminal” is an Amazon Best-Selling novel, check it out here!

Ryder Duncan is the sheriff of a peaceful town, where nothing unexpected ever happens. When his brother is killed in a bank robbery in his very hometown, he spontaneously decides to leave everything behind and join the Texas Rangers in pursuit of justice. His brother’s killer is a vicious criminal, and nothing will stop Ryder until he captures him. How will he succeed in his quest to outsmart the experienced murderer?

With a blessing from his secret love, Grace, he begins his wild journey of hide and seek. Grace might have been the wife of his brother, but Ryder had a crush on her ever since they were children. On the trail of an evil criminal, he will meet friends and foes, trackers and bounty hunters, but no one will get in the way of his mission. Grace’s letters will be his only true company, while he goes through the most dangerous adventure of his life. Will she still give him a chance for love when he comes back home?

A mixture of vivid imagery of the Wild West and complex characters put the finishing touches to a true adventure, like never read before. Will Ryder get justice for his parents, Grace, but also, for himself?

An action-packed story, featuring complex and fascinating characters and twists that will leave the reader breathless. A must-read for fans of Western action and romance.

“The Pursuit of an Evil Criminal” is a historical adventure novel of approximately 80,000 words. No cliffhangers, only pure unadulterated action.

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