Legends of the Lost Causes
Page 25
“Wonders never cease,” Cutter said. “I’m a lawdog now.”
The German brothers offered the gang a supply of spare tack and blankets and rations they’d brought along. Turner helped them pack the provisions and check their saddles. Meanwhile, Keech stowed Pa Abner’s charm back around his neck, while Noah Embry’s amulet piece went back to Duck. As long as they held the shards, the Reverend’s crows would let them be. The birds would always be up there somewhere, watching from a distance, but they knew better than to attack.
Once the preparations were done, Nat called the group into a circle.
“Listen up. The wind is hard and the clouds are heavy. Best we get some miles under us before we make camp. I want this rotten graveyard as far away as we can get it.”
“But where do we go next?” John Wesley asked.
“There is a town in Kansas Territory, southwest of here,” Turner said. “Wisdom, it’s called. It’s a free settlement like Big Timber, no slavers, no hooligans. The sheriff there, Strahan, is a good man. He’ll feed you, provide weapons, put you up. He knows the Osage and how they travel. Maybe he’ll know a thing or two about Bonfire Crossing.”
Keech said, “To Wisdom, then.”
“To Wisdom,” Nat replied.
Sheriff Turner and the German brothers mounted their steeds. Before reining their horses back toward Whistler, Turner offered the young riders one final word of caution.
“If you ever need to send a message, never use your real names. Your identities are precious, so you should pick a name for your group.”
“The Lost Causes,” Keech said at once, and looked at his trailmates.
Turner pondered the words. “It’s a good name,” he said. Before riding out, the sheriff shifted back on his saddle. He gazed at each of them and told them, smiling, “Go, Lost Causes. Go be legends.”
Once Turner and his companions had ridden back into the forest, the gang mounted their horses and sat in silence, and the sheriff’s words settled around them. Keech looked to the east. Hues of purple and gold began to dawn over the distant trees. The long, terrible night was at last surrendering to a new day.
“So,” Nat said. “The Lost Causes.”
Keech nodded. An image appeared in his mind. An image of a sign, hanging strong and proud against the wild of the wilderness. A symbol of family. A symbol of strength. Protect us, St. Jude, from harm.
They were five strong now, they were a team. This was their new calling. Their new home was the trail. They would learn by it. They would study it.
And once they were strong enough, they would face the Reverend Rose.
For now, they were cold and a little scared.
So Keech Blackwood decided to do for his Lost Causes what he used to do for Sam, on the nights when Sam needed comfort, on the nights when Sam needed his friend.
He sang “Ol’ Lonesome Joe” to comfort their souls.
Ol’ Lonesome Joe, come ride next to me.
Let’s roll, ol’ Joe, to the Alamo Tree.
Lonesome in the heart, lonesome as can be.
You won’t be so lonesome at the Alamo Tree,
When you sit next to me, when you sit next to me.
THE END
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Because authors never ride the trail alone, we’d like to round up a passel of good people and give them a grand ol’ thank-you from the bottom of our hearts. We’ll start with:
Our folks, Peggy and Lou and Barbara, who always made sure to keep great books on the shelves and stirred a continual passion for literature. They kept the home fires burning in the night, and encouraged us to find exceptional:
Friends and colleagues, who keep inspiring two weary cowboys to push on. Trailmates like Jim Patterson, Michael Armstrong, Lori Raborg, Alex Abrams, Brandon Hobson, AJ Tierney, Gloria Bankler, Brad Christy, Dustin Bass, Sean Easley, Kyle Sanders, Matt Knight, the amazing folks at Lewis-Clark State College, and so many more loyal pards that we couldn’t stuff all their names in a hundred saddlebags. All except for:
Shawn Chiusano, who wrote a fella’s name down one day and said, “By golly, send this man a query letter!” and so we did, and that fella turned out to be:
Brooks Sherman, our rough-ridin’, sharp-eyed Agent Extraordinaire, who never stopped cheering us on to perfection, so he could lasso a fine publisher and introduce us to:
Lauren Bisom, our novel’s first champion. She opened all the doors at Henry Holt, so we could meet:
Christian Trimmer, our head honcho and the finest editor this side of the Mississippi. Mr. Trimmer, you surely do a bang-up job. And without your wonderful bunch at Henry Holt, our novel never would’ve crossed paths with:
Alexandria Neonakis, our cover illustrator and all-around swell artist. Her remarkable work puts a true grandeur on the book, as do the humbling, heart-stirring reviews we received from:
Authors Emma Trevayne, Stefan Bachmann, and Heidi Schulz, who offered us powerful good blurbs. And since we’re gabbin’ about kind assistance, we just can’t thank enough:
All the magnificent folks of the Osage Nation and the Wah-Zha-Zhi Cultural Center. Director Addie Hudgins and cultural specialist Jennifer Tiger and Harrison Hudgins and Rebecca Brave and Vann Bighorse—everyone who contributed their time and energy to double-checking our historical and cultural accuracy and giving us incredible notes. We hope we’ve done ya proud.
Don’t scurry off yet! We ain’t quite done. We’d be scoundrels and outlaws if we didn’t holler to the world how much we love:
Our wives, Alisha and Kimberly, who stand by us every day and lift us up. And Chloe, too, the greatest stepdaughter that Brad ever did see, who shines a light from her very soul. She reminds us of another great kid, someone we couldn’t possibly forget to thank before this here book closes:
YOU, amazing reader. You’re the one this whole shebang is for. We hope you’ve enjoyed Keech’s adventure, and we’ll see ya again soon for the next leg of the journey.
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
Born and raised in Arkansas, Brad McLelland spent several years working as a crime journalist in the South. In 2011 he obtained his MFA in creative writing from Oklahoma State University, where he met his writing partner, Louis. A part-time drummer and singer, Brad lives in Oklahoma with his wife, stepdaughter, a mini Aussie who gives hugs, and a chubby cat who begs for ham. You can sign up for email updates here.
Louis Sylvester is a professor at Lewis-Clark State College in Lewiston, Idaho. Together with his wife, he spends his free time playing tabletop games from his collection of over 1,000 card and board games. Louis enjoys watching western films and reading fantasy novels. He has two dogs that go wild when they hear the word “treats.”. You can sign up for email updates here.
Legends of the Lost Causes is their first novel.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Part 1: The Home for Lost Causes
Chapter 1: Bad Whiskey
Chapter 2: The Guardian
Chapter 3: Pa Abner’s Secret
Chapter 4: A Message of Grave Importance
Chapter 5: The Code Breakers
Chapter 6: The Peg-Leg Bandit
Chapter 7: The Whispering Crow
Chapter 8: The Siege
Chapter 9: Smoke and Ash
Part 2: The Young Riders
Interlude: Whiskey on the Trail
Chapter 10: Ambush at Copperhead Rock
Chapter 11: I Am the Wolf
Chapter 12: A Revelation
at Swift Hollow
Chapter 13: The Escape
Chapter 14: The Interrogation
Chapter 15: What Happened at Whistler
Chapter 16: Floodwood
Chapter 17: A Bread-Crumb Trail
Chapter 18: The Red Mountain
Chapter 19: The Climb
Chapter 20: The Doorway
Chapter 21: Cutter’s Decision
Chapter 22: Wasape
Part 3: The Sullied Place
Interlude: Whiskey in the Dark
Chapter 23: Exīte
Chapter 24: The Reunion
Chapter 25: The Tsi’noo
Chapter 26: Treasure Hunt
Chapter 27: Destruction Cometh
Chapter 28: Cut from the Reins
Chapter 29: The Lawman’s Blessing
Acknowledgments
About the Authors
Copyright
Copyright © 2018 by Brad McLelland and Louis Sylvester
Henry Holt and Company, LLC
Publishers since 1866
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First hardcover edition 2018
eBook edition 2018
eISBN 9781250124333