A Fine Day for Revenge – Extended Epilogue

Phoenix, Arizona 1890

Shaun stood by the female quarter horse as she was foaling. With his hands on her, Shaun stood close to her face, so she knew he kept her safe. She kicked lightly behind.

“Whoa, girl,” Shaun said, running his hands over her muzzle.

They had bandaged her tail, keeping it out of the way. Will Goff and Owen Webster had collected wash rags and had boiled a few buckets of water. They stayed outside the stall, far enough away to make themselves useful if Shaun needed them.

“How is it going back there?” he asked, watching as his wife worked to keep the area clean and put down more fresh straw. She wore wellingtons, a leather apron, and gloves. It was a messy business, but sometimes necessary to help when it came to some horse breeding.

“I’ll tell you what,” Imogene said. “If this baby inside me comes out with this much trouble, you and I will need to have a long conversation.”

Shaun looked at her stand to the side of the quarter horse rear. She smiled lightly at him.

“I’d like to trade places with you,” he said. “You shouldn’t be back there in—”

“Shaun, I swear, if you say your condition, I will throw whatever just came out of her at you. I mean it.” She pointed a gloved finger at him. “I’m tired of everyone making a fuss over me. My aunt wants me in bed for the next three months. My father wants to hire a full-time doctor and two midwives to stay here.” She ran her forearm over her face, swiping away the strands of hair that came loose from the braid. “I can’t ride horses, and you want to take this away from me, too.”

“I’ll keep my mouth shut,” Shaun said. He glanced at Owen and Will, who sat in chairs under the stalls opposite of the large foaling stall. Both men knew better than laugh or snicker loud enough for Imogene to hear them.

They had designed the area to keep mares separate from the rest. It allowed for the extra room because they liked to move around before the birth. It had everything to aid in foaling horses inside, away from inclement weather conditions. The mare’s bridle had a lead hooked to the frame to keep her from moving away during the birth.

“Well, here we go,” Imogene said and got ready, standing close enough to lend a hand.

It took several minutes for the birthing to happen. Shaun stayed near the mare’s shoulder and found it unsettling to watch. Imogene made use of the gloves and apron, catching both hooves before seeing the face poking out. Once the front legs, head, and shoulders came through, Imogene helped with a quick release.

Imogene slipped on birthing fluid. The foal had a soft landing on top of her.

“Are you alright?” Shaun asked in a panic. He stepped around the fluids as the mare tried to see the foal. She tugged at the lead, turning her back end away from where Imogene lay in the straw pile.

“I’m fine,” Imogene said, cradling the foal covered in afterbirth. Some of it covered his wife. She didn’t seem to care. Imogene wiped at the foal’s eyes and nostrils. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

“She’s a he,” Shaun said. He helped push the foal off Imogene. It immediately tried standing up and fell into the soft straw again. He helped Imogene to her feet.

The mare continued to pull at the rope on her harness, trying to get to the foal, still fighting gravity and balance and still losing.

“We’ll get the stall cleaned out and unharness the mare,” Owen said as Shaun and Imogene left the stall. Will and Owen immediately went through the gate, shoveling out the bloody and wet straw before detaching the mare.

“Let’s go clean up,” Shaun said.

Imogene grinned at him. “I want to see him stand up first.”

Shaun grimaced. “Wouldn’t you want to get all that—” He waved his hand at the apron and gloves. “Don’t you want to clean up first?”

“Are you going to be like that when this one gets here?” she asked.

“I don’t think it will be as bad as that, will it?”

“You look a little green,” she said. “Come here.”

Imogene untied the apron, dropping it on the floor near the wash buckets. She pulled off the gloves. She used Shaun’s broad shoulder as a brace to kick off the wellingtons. Imogene stripped off the socks and walked back to the stall barefoot.

“He’s perfect.” Imogene rested her chin on the gate rails watching the mare clean up the foal. The colt thrashed, eager to stand up. Owen and Will watched from a distance with mild interest.

“Okay, he’s standing,” Shaun said. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

He took Imogene by the hand and led her out of the horse barn. The rest of the horses all watched the birthing pen. They knew another member of their numbers just came into the world.

Outside, the rest of the staff around Equestrian Dreams continued working. They nodded at Shaun and Imogene. Shaun had been promoted to run the stables, which included living in the ranch house. Gene Brennan moved his wife Esther and the main horse sales, marketing, and racing operations to Louisville, Kentucky.

Gene began working with Meriwether Lewis Clark Jr.—grandson of William Clark, one of the key explorers from the Lewis and Clark expedition. Together, Clark and Gene worked to form Louisville Jockey Club. It was an organization exclusively to raise money for quality racing facilities. They started a business with Henry and John Churchill, who wanted to expand the horse racing complex in Louisville. Gene kept in constant communications with Shaun and Imogene while he and his wife, Esther, remained in Kentucky.

“We’ve got visitors,” Imogene said. She saw the riders before Shaun.

He recognized one of them as soon as the horses stopped in front of the house. Seeing Sheriff Adam Peck from Dewey-Humboldt made his stomach flop more than witnessing the birth of a foal.

“Sheriff Peck, what can I do for you?” Shaun asked. Imogene laced her fingers through his and held his hand tight.

Peck shook Shaun’s free hand and touched the brim of his hat to Imogene. Two of the other four riders wore badges.

“Shaun, good to see you,” Peck said. “It looks like you’ve come a long way since leaving home. I’m happy for you, son.”

“You didn’t come all the way to Phoenix to congratulate my wife and me on success,” Shaun said skeptically.

“No, sir, um, can we talk privately?” Peck asked.

“This is private, sir. Imogene is my wife; I don’t have any secrets from her.”

A deputy removed a folded paper from his saddlebag and handed it to the sheriff. He, in turn, gave it to Shaun. It was a rendering of a face that Shaun recognized. It was a good likeness.

“That’s Harvey Mack, and he used to—”

“I know Harvey,” Shaun said. “He’s trouble.”

“Yes, he is,” Peck said. “Him and your stepbrother had some business together, and things got nasty.”

“What does that have to do with me?” Shaun asked. He had a good life, a loving wife, and a home surrounded by people who looked up to Shaun as a noble man. He didn’t want Clayton or Harvey to poison his life.

“Clayton’s dying, Shaun,” Peck said. “Dr. Banks gives him a few days, maybe a week at most. Your mother wants you to come back to Dewey-Humboldt.”

Shaun frowned. “How did you find me?”

“Your reputation goes a long way through the territory, Shaun. Just about anyone who has a racehorse or a workhorse knows it came from you,” he said. “I’m here to ask—”

“I’m not going back, Sheriff Peck.”

Peck nodded. “I figured as much. We’re actively looking for Harvey Mack. We could use some help with people who know what he looks like,” Peck said. “Your stepbrother says Mack poisoned him when they were drinking in the house.”

Shaun felt his blood turn cold. The look on Peck’s face showed guilt.

“There’s an allegation that Mack might have poisoned Dale Ellison, too.”

“Oh no,” Imogene said. She squeezed Shaun’s hand.

“We’re taking it from the lips of a dying man. We’d like to have you ride with us to see if Mack is still in the area,” Peck said.

Shaun immediately shook his head. “No, I am not leaving my family to chase down a man who conspired with Clayton to kill Dale.” He pointed the finger at Peck. “I told you years ago what happened to Dale, and no one wanted to listen.”

“Shaun is upset,” Imogene said.

He had a boiling point that got away from him when it came to Clayton. Shaun had expressed his concern to Imogene that his past needed to stay behind him, including his mother. She had once mentioned informing the woman about the pregnancy, but Shaun had refused.

“Owen Webster and Will Goff are in the barn. They know what Harvey Mack looks like. I’m sure if you ask them, they will help you. They will come back here when everything’s done. They’re family, too. This is their home.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Peck said. He looked at Shaun. “I’m sorry you had it rough, son. I knew all along that you were a good person, just on the wrong side of things. I’m happy for you.”

Peck and one of his deputies wandered across the yard to the stables. Imogene pressed her shoulder against Shaun. “You need to see Clayton,” she said. “You need to let all this anger and frustrations you carry around with you die with your stepbrother.”

“I don’t want to see him.”

“I know, but this isn’t for you, Shaun. This is for our daughter.”

“Daughter?” he asked, and a hint of a smile played on Imogene’s face. “You think it’s a girl? What if it’s a boy?”

“I don’t know if I can handle two Shauns in this household. Let’s hope for a girl, and that’s that,” Imogene said. She let go of Shaun’s hand to press her palms against the swell of her belly. “Go say goodbye to your past, Shaun. You owe it to yourself and me.”

Imogene rarely got things wrong. He nodded.

“I’ll go with you as far as Prescott to see Daddy and Aunt Florence. I’ll stay at the house. You let me know when you need me. I’ll be there for you,” Imogene said.

***

High Meadows Stables was an abandoned horse farm with several missing boards from the old stables. The house looked in disrepair, but the curtains over the windows and the furnishings on the veranda showed Shaun that someone still lived there.

He didn’t bother knocking on the door to go inside. Inside, the house had sparse furnishings, like someone had sold off the furniture or used it for kindling. A kerosene lantern sat on a small table by the door, lighting the space in yellow gloom.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Dolores Ellison said, appearing from drawn curtains at a side room off the gathering hall.

She looked older, tired. Dolores was once a proud woman, the wife of a successful man. After Dale’s death, she became a widow for the rest of her life. By the look of her mourning dress, she still grieved.

“He’s barely awake most days. Dr. Banks says he got just enough poison in him to cause a lot of damage to his insides.”

Dolores spoke fast, wringing her hands together, nervous to see her son again. Shaun watched the woman for a few minutes but had nothing to say to her. He showed up because Imogene knew it was best for him.

“You look well, son,” she added quietly.

“I’m married,” he said.

Dolores nodded, lips made a line across her face.

“We’re having a baby, too,” he said. “I’ll go see him now.”

Shaun walked by his mother. She remained rigid in front of the curtain. His boots echoed in the hallway from the lack of furniture in the house. Clayton’s bedroom on the second floor was the master room that had once belonged to Dale. Shaun didn’t want to know why his stepbrother continued to stay in the house or the area when he had once made grand plans to become a world traveler.

Inside the room was a shriveled man recumbent in bed with a single candle to keep him company. Clayton’s sallow face turned to Shaun as the door opened. His labored breathing sounded ragged like Clayton had burlap in his lungs.

Shaun stepped through the open doorway. He looked around at the large room with the stone fireplace with a cold hearth. Clayton watched Shaun looking around the room. The recognition on his face gave it color. Clayton appeared pleased, not angry at Shaun’s appearance.

Clayton took a deeper breath, and a rattling cough came out of him instead of words. It took a lot of effort for Clayton to wipe his mouth. The stained handkerchief came away with bright red spots.

“I made a mistake,” Clayton whispered. “I know it.”

Shaun’s jaw muscles ached from clenching his teeth since he’d left his wife at her father’s house in Prescott. The ride over on Hala reminded Shaun of the anguish from the past. Going back to High Meadows Stables carried the burden of a life he’d rather forget than forgive.

“Did you know Father liked you more than me?” Clayton asked. His voice sounded like it was dragged across gravel. “He used to tell me that all the time. He wanted me to be more like you.”

Shaun stood near the bed, watching Clayton trying to use his last minutes on earth to make things right.

“I put you through hell,” Clayton whispered. “I know that.”

“Did Harvey Mack kill Dale?” Shaun asked.

Clayton smacked his blistered and chapped lips. He reached for a ceramic mug on the nightstand. It was empty. Shaun poured water from the nearby pitcher into the mug. Clayton spilled more water over his chin than went in his mouth.

“It was a mistake,” he said.

“What happened to the money from the ranch? I thought you had everything worked out.”

Clayton shook his head. “Somehow, Harvey got in touch with Max Clarke. He’s the lawyer—”

“I know who he is,” Shaun said. It was impossible to forget the attorney Clayton had tried using to invest in Gene Brennan’s business ventures in Prescott. Clarke was a nuisance to Gene, but nothing more.

“Well, they threatened to tell the sheriff about me. I don’t know why I asked Harvey to do it. But he squandered my money. He took everything from me.”

Shaun only nodded. Blackmail was a double-edged sword, as far as he understood it. Someone had to do something bad for it to happen to them. There was no victim between Clayton and Harvey.

“I know where’s going,” Clayton said. “I can tell you. You can go find him.”

“Why would I do that?” Shaun asked. “Why would I do anything for you?”

“I thought you’d be interested in finding the man that killed Dale.”

Shaun shook his head. He looked to the floor. Clayton was hours, maybe minutes away from death. A part of him wanted to stay and watch it happen. But a bigger part of Shaun came with the heart mended by his wife. Imogene wouldn’t want him to carry the anger anymore. Shaun needed to unload the baggage of his past to make room in his heart for his new family.

“I’m interested,” he said, exhaling through his teeth. “But I’ll give the information to the sheriff, Clayton. I’m not going to face Harvey again.”

The flare of anger showed on Clayton’s skeletal face. “You’re a coward,” he whispered.

“Am I supposed to do something about what already happened to you, Clayton?” Shaun asked. “You had so much and, through your actions, caused it all to end. It wasn’t Dale that betrayed you. You betrayed your father. You could never get by something that isn’t important.”

Shaun glanced at the doorway. His mother had stepped into the room with a look of worry carved on her pale face. Shaun had raised his voice speaking to his stepbrother.

He took some deep breaths, remembering how Imogene taught him to remember her love whenever he got himself upset about something. Managing his anger got a lot easier when there was a woman who cared so much for him. She wasn’t afraid to let Shaun know when he let his anger get the better of him.

“I will tell the sheriff where Harvey is, Clayton,” Shaun said. “If I never see the man again, that is fine with me. But I’m not going to avenge you because you chose to do what you did.” Shaun looked at Dolores. “If you haven’t told Mother what you did, and you think you’ve got a stained soul, it might be a good time to come clean with her. She deserves the truth.”

Clayton’s eyes closed for a long time, and he got very still. Shaun waited as Dolores moved around him to approach the bed. She took Clayton’s hand. His eyes fluttered. When they opened again, the little bit of water Clayton drank managed to find its way to his tear ducts. He cried upon seeing the woman.

It took a few minutes for Clayton to explain Harvey Mack’s presumed location. He departed from the room before Clayton confessed to his mother-in-law that Clayton was responsible for her husband’s death. Before Shaun left the house altogether, he walked slowly around the place, including looking in on Dale’s study.

On the desk was a collection of personal items that were important to Clayton. Shaun saw nothing among them that likely belonged to Dale.

Dolores and Clayton lived in the house alone. Even the servants had all left. When Shaun left the study, he saw Dolores standing at the foot of the stairs.

“He’s gone,” she said. Shaun had nothing to say to his mother about Clayton’s passing. If he had confessed to conspiring to kill Dale, it was her business now. “What will you do?”

“I’ll let Dr. Banks know,” Shaun said. “And I’ll tell the marshals in Prescott where to find Harvey Mack.”

Shaun walked through the empty house, stepping past his mother. She had plenty of time to say something to him but chose to remain quiet. He closed the door softly.

Shaun stepped off the porch. He approached Hala. He pressed his face against her muzzle and closed his eyes. “Are you ready to go home now, girl?” he asked in a whisper.

Hala’s ears flicked and she snored as Shaun climbed into the saddle. He rode away from the remnants of High Meadows Stables and didn’t look back.

THE END

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