A Fine Day for Revenge (Preview)

Chapter One

Prescott, Arizona Territory, 1888

Shaun Hickman didn’t know his stepfather had died until the next morning, when one of the ranch workers told him. He had moved out of the main ranch house when he was sixteen because he never got along with his stepbrother, Clayton. Living in the available bunkhouse outside the stable made more sense to Shaun—it got him closer to the horses and away from his stepbrother. But that morning in February, Shaun knew everything he’d worked hard to achieve was about to change.

Several of the ranch hands had assembled on the veranda but didn’t go inside. His stepfather was a respected man of the ranch and the township of Dewey-Humboldt. It wouldn’t take long for the rest of the community to learn of the tragedy.

Dale Ellison had employed several men and women on the property, and the community thrived on business with the ranch. Dale was a fair and even-tempered man who bartered with anyone who needed a horse. High Meadows Stables was one of the largest horse ranches in the Arizona Territory—people came from all over to buy saddle-bred and workhorses from Shaun’s stepfather. With the man’s sudden death, Shaun saw miserable faces for the loss. He knew many of the community members worried about the town’s future now that Dale had passed.

“Someone went to fetch the doctor,” Will Goff said when Shaun got to the house. Will was a loyal stableman, ten years Shaun’s senior, and one of Dale’s closest associates on the ranch.

Shaun said nothing, just removed his hat and stepped over the threshold into the house. Inside, he found the housekeepers and cooks weeping together. The women had husbands and sons who worked for his stepfather. He crossed the open gathering room, where an older woman stood near the corner leading to the back hallway.

“What happened?” Shaun asked, whispering to Vanessa Perry.

Vanessa was his mother’s closest friend. The widow spent more time on the ranch than at her one-room farmhouse a few miles away. Vanessa had arrived at the house before Shaun had even heard about Dale’s untimely death.

“We don’t know,” Vanessa said, sniffling. She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “Your mother is in the bedroom. She doesn’t want to leave his side.” She touched Shaun’s forearm gently. “Can you please bring her out here? I can’t go back in there.”

He walked through the few men allowed inside the house. They gave him passage, stepping aside respectfully. In the large bedroom, Shaun saw his mother, Dolores, sitting on a bedside chair holding the hand of her dead husband. Someone had covered Dale with a sheet. Dolores looked lost and far away, clutching the hand that protruded from under the linen across her lap.

Dolores Hickman had remarried when Shaun was eight years old. Shaun’s father had died before Shaun got to know the man, and Dale Ellison had accepted Shaun as a stepson in the marriage. Dale was a fair man, a decent man, and had never raised a hand to Shaun. In rare times when he wasn’t busy, Dale had showed interest in teaching Shaun the importance of good horsemanship.

That was where Shaun excelled. His ability to rein in even the most bitter-tempered horse made him an asset to the ranch and helped strengthen the bond between Dale and Shaun. It also helped ease his mother’s concerns about Shaun’s place among the men working for Dale and the ranch lifestyle. But Shaun and Dale’s appreciation for horses drove a wedge between Dale and his own son Clayton. Clayton saw horses as tools—they were meant to be used and shot when they no longer kept up with demands. Dale and Shaun believed horses had far more to offer than just as working gear.

Clayton’s mother had died of typhoid long before his father remarried. Six years older than Shaun, Clayton saw his stepbrother as a burden, a nuisance, and a troublemaker. Most problems that fell on Shaun’s shoulders usually started with Clayton, but it was impossible for Shaun to defend himself.

So began their tumultuous relationship. Clayton never let up on Shaun when it came to chores or life lessons. He’d pick fights with Shaun and often regret it the moment brawls started. Shaun fought like a badger. Like many of the wild, unbroken stallions that came through his stepfather’s ranch, he was fearless and untamed.

As Shaun got older, he got tougher. When Clayton’s teasing failed to provoke him, Shaun spent time away from the main house and more time with the horses in the stables. Dale appreciated Shaun’s willingness to manage the horses, living in one of the cattlemen’s shacks instead of inside the main house. Life wasn’t easy, but for Shaun, it got a little better.

“Mother, we’re waiting for the doctor,” Shaun said. He held his hat by the brim and reached for his mother’s hand. “Come wait with Mrs. Perry.”

“I’m not leaving him.” Her voice cracked. She had cried long and hard, and Shaun saw the grip on the dead man’s hand was as tight as a steel trap.

Under the sheet, Dale Ellison had died in bed. Shaun had never seen a dead person before, and the shape looked smaller than he had expected. Dale had a large build, over six feet. He was tall and strong. The man had lived an affluent life, but he’d worked with his hands every day. He believed a man earned a living and respected those who weren’t afraid to get dirty to make a dollar.

The bedside table held a lantern, an amber vial with a cork, and a tumbler of water. Shaun hadn’t spent any time inside the house in years. He knew Dale to be of sound mind and good health, so it surprised him to see the tincture. When Shaun reached for it, his mother interrupted him.

“What are you doing?”

“I wanted to see what that is,” Shaun said.

He tried reaching around her, but Dolores used her free hand to swipe the medicine bottle off the surface and tuck it into the waistband pocket of her house dress.

“It’s none of your business,” she said.

The three men standing in the hallway heard his mother and they looked in the room suspiciously.

“Mother, what happened to Dale?” he asked, this time with a harder edge to his voice.

“Shaun, come away,” Vanessa said when she heard his raised voice. “Let your mother alone.” She ducked away from the doorway again, crowded by the three loyal workers who had been close enough to Dale to watch over the dead and his widow.

“You wanted her away,” Shaun said. “I want to know what happened to him. What was in that bottle?”

“Come away, son,” one of the men said. “Leave your mother be, the doctor will be here soon.”

“Don’t you want to know, Mr. Webster?” Shaun asked.

Owen Webster had worked on the ranch the longest. He had more authority than most people but still hadn’t earned the title of foreman.

Dale believed in family first, giving Clayton Ellison more control than anyone else. So far, Clayton hadn’t arrived. Shaun’s presence inside the house put everyone on edge because Clayton and Shaun never saw eye to eye on anything. Now, with Dale gone, it was anyone’s guess as to Shaun’s fate and the fate of the ranch and its workers. One thing everyone knew about Clayton, he’d never wanted to work for his father. He wanted nothing to do with the ranch.

“The doctor’s coming,” Will said from out of Shaun’s view. “Clayton’s riding with him.”

His mother looked up at Shaun standing close to the bed. “You need to leave. I don’t want you and Clayton fighting.”

“I’m not going until I know what happened.”

“You’ll go because I say so, damn it.” Her words spewed like venom and growls. “I will not have you disrupting this day. Clayton just lost his father, and I just lost a husband. It would be best if you showed some respect, Shaun. And leave this house.”

Feeling sweat and humility, Shaun turned from his mother. He stormed out of the room as the watchers separated from the door. Vanessa turned from Shaun, looking away because she had wanted something from him that he couldn’t do.

In the gathering hall, the housekeepers and cooks kept their eyes averted as Shaun walked by Will. “I’m sorry, son,” the man said.

Shaun pushed his way through the group gathered on the front porch. They looked at Shaun as nothing more than an irritant.

Outside, the February sun had climbed above the rust-color mesas surrounding the arid countryside. Shaun put on his hat and watched as the doctor from Dewey-Humboldt rode in a two-wheeled buggy to the house. Clayton and a man named Harvey Mack rode on horseback alongside the territory doctor.

Clayton glared at Shaun but said nothing as the buggy arrived and the doctor climbed off. Harvey and Clayton dismounted. Someone took the reins, and both men went into the house.

Shaun had to wait outside with the rest of the ranch hands. There was nothing he could do. Dale had died, and the doctor’s late arrival wouldn’t change that.

Will Goff talked briefly to the men on the veranda. They nodded respectfully and wandered off, heading back to the stables and taking care of the animals. Managing the several horses in various states of saddle training and breeding took time. But Dale kept a few heads of steer to feed the family and the workers. Livestock needed tending, and Will had sense enough to get everyone back to work again.

“It’s probably best if you stay out of Clayton’s way for a while,” Will warned.

“Do you know anything about Dale taking medicine?” Shaun asked. “I saw a vial near the bed.”

Will shook his head and rested his foot on a granite fence stop. Shaun leaned against the stone enclosure, watching as housekeepers left through the front door and found shade under the porch roof to the side. Until the doctor finished examining Dale, the women had to wait to get back to their chores.

“I don’t get involved in your father’s personal life,” Will said.

“He wasn’t my father,” Shaun said and immediately regretted the statement. He sighed and shook his head. “That was disrespectful.”

“Yes, it was,” Will agreed. “Dale stuck his neck out for you, Shaun. He had to deal with you and Clayton’s bickering. There’s no telling what will happen now.”

“I don’t understand it,” Shaun said, ignoring Will’s worry about Clayton. “Dale seemed fine yesterday. He and I finished up another turnout on the south side of the new stables.” The horses spent more time outside, and the turnouts aided in the animals’ access.

“Well, no one lives forever. Maybe his heart had all it could stand.”

“I don’t buy it,” Shaun said.

Will moved closer to Shaun, lowering his voice. “Look, whatever you got in that thick head of yours, you need to let it go. You’re looking to stir up more hornets if you get some idea about what happened to Dale. We’re all going to miss him. We know things will change now that it’s up to Clayton.”

“He’s going to undermine everything Dale wanted for the ranch.”

“We got no say in it. And the more you push, the further you’ll get,” Will said. “As long as you got it in your head to cause trouble, you’ll never out from under Clayton’s shadow.”

“I know what Dale wanted for the ranch.”

“I don’t care, Shaun. Clayton and Harvey got other ideas, and you need to be careful. Like it or not, whatever happens to the ranch’s got nothing to do with you or me.”

“You’re worried you’ll lose your job,” Shaun said.

He kept his eye on the front of the house. Harvey Mack had gotten as far as the front porch and leaned against the wall to roll a cigarette. He was a man from nowhere. Shaun and the others on the ranch found him disquieting. Aside from his unwillingness to sup with the other laborers, he shared some unique comradeship with Clayton.

Harvey had arrived before December of last year. He came recommended by Clayton, and no one else knew much about the man. Harvey didn’t spend time with other ranch hands, opting to live off-site. His interactions with Dale went through Clayton, and whatever was shared between the three men was as tight as a steel water trough.

Harvey hadn’t taken his eyes off Shaun since he arrived with the doctor and Clayton. He was older than Clayton but younger than Dale. He claimed to know a lot about horses, but the man’s interaction with his own mount had made Shaun and a few others skeptical. Clayton and Harvey typically spent more time off the ranch, but Dale wanted Clayton involved in the daily operation.

It put a strain on their relationship as father and son. Everyone knew Clayton wanted nothing to do with handling ranch business. The unexpected appearance of Harvey Mack had somehow changed Clayton’s attitude about High Meadows Stables.

Harvey was a tall, gruff man who watched people more than he talked to them. Shaun had had very little interaction with the man. But Clayton had brought him home to meet his father. It was never clear where Clayton had met Harvey, but cattlemen sometimes worked for places long enough to get coin in their pockets and moved on. There was always a place for a hardworking man at the stables. Yet, Harvey wasn’t much of a laborer. His fixture on the ranch came attached to Clayton. Sometimes, he socialized with Dale. The familiarity between the boss and Harvey leaned more toward friendship than employer and employee.

Clayton began spending more time with his father, taking a keener interest in how to manage the workers, the property, and the horses. Dale had praised Harvey because the newcomer had somehow reached Clayton where Dale never could. Harvey had helped Clayton take an interest in what would eventually become his legacy.

“You should be just as worried as me, Shaun. You know, without Dale here protecting you, I don’t know what will happen if Clayton intends to make changes,” Will said. He looked over his shoulder at Harvey, still watching from the porch several yards away. “That man is up to no good. I never trusted a man who refuses to sit at a table with working hands.”

Shaun knew Harvey received payment for farming duties. But no one knew what he did. His companionship with Clayton seemed to be enough to earn him a wage. Living off the ranch meant Harvey got enough to keep himself housed and fed with the money he got from High Meadows Stables.

With Dale dead, Harvey and Clayton immediately got together. Shaun had Will and Owen close by, but neither man consoled him. They stayed close in case Shaun had ideas about confronting Clayton.

“You need to give the man time to grieve for his father,” Owen whispered. He stood with his back to Clayton and Harvey across the wide lawn. Shaun continued to stare at his stepbrother.

“How about me and Owen buy you a drink in town,” Will offered, watching Shaun for sudden movements.

Shaun knew both men worried for their jobs, and felt the loss of an honest, hardworking man. But they stood by because Shaun refused to stop staring at Harvey across the compound and it was being noticed. Sometimes, it didn’t take words to challenge a man.

“Everything’s going to change now,” Shaun said. His fists ached from being squeezed for so long. He wanted to mourn, but his mother had already pushed him away.

Shaun felt like Clayton and Harvey conspired against him. But everyone else only saw sibling rivalry, and Shaun’s inability to ever find peace with Clayton. Without Dale’s ability to keep turmoil suppressed, Shaun saw the end of something special.

Chapter Two

Later that night, Shaun rode off the property and headed into Dewey-Humboldt. He’d wanted to talk to Dr. Banks when the man visited the house, but Clayton and Harvey never gave Shaun a moment alone with the doctor. Instead, while the rest of the ranch workers and his mother grieved with her friends and the servants, Shaun left to get answers.

Dr. Banks lived in a small apartment above the doctor’s office between the consignment shop and the dry goods seller. It was after dark and windy across the flatlands when Shaun got to town. Gusting winds spat dust against the boardwalks and glass windows. The light upstairs of the doctor’s office meant Banks was awake. Downstairs, the office had a closed sign hanging against the window with the shades drawn.

Shaun hammered at the door for a few minutes before he saw illumination glowing against the shade. Dr. Banks pulled at the corner to see Shaun waiting for him. The door unlocked.

“What is it, young man?” Banks wasn’t much older than Dale. But everyone addressed Shaun with the attitude of adults talking to children.

“I want to know what you found when you examined Dale, Dr. Banks.” Shaun pushed at the door, forcing it open. He stepped inside and pulled at the collar of his jacket. Debris from the dust storm rattled on the floor.

Banks closed and locked the door behind Shaun. “Is this necessary?” he asked. “I don’t think it’s appropriate, given the circumstances.”

“What circumstances?” Shaun asked, frustrated with everyone pushing him away. “Dale’s dead. I want to know what happened. You must know.”

Banks held the oil lantern by the lead base. He sighed with frustration. “Mr. Ellison died in his sleep,” he said.

“I think there’s more to it than that. What did you learn?” Shaun watched the physician. He appeared nervous to talk about the examination.

Banks sank into the barber chair in the lobby. Shaun remained standing. He removed his hat and scattered more debris across the floorboards.

“Your father asphyxiated,” Banks said, finally. “He had red blotches on his skin with swollen glands. His fingers and toes had curled at the time of death, as far as I could tell. He had pink foam and blood in his vomit.”

“What causes something like that?” Shaun asked.

“Well, it could have had something to do with Dale’s heart. I’ve known him most of his adult life, and he was a hardworking man. It’s possible his heart finally gave out.” Banks stared at Shaun. “That’s what I told your mother. That’s what people will read in his obituary.”

Shaun waited, thinking about what the doctor described. It wasn’t what the physician said, it was how he said it. “You think something else happened, don’t you?” he asked. “I saw a tincture next to the bed. Mother wouldn’t let me see the label.”

The doctor shook his head. “I gave Dale chloral hydrate to help him sleep,” Banks said. He stood from the chair and went to a shelf of bottles similar to the one Shaun had seen next to his stepfather’s bed. He handed over the small amber vial with the cork top. “Dale came to me a few months ago talking about not sleeping. I knew he had some decisions to make regarding the ranch, and it gave him anxiety.”

Bank removed the bottle from Shaun’s hand and replaced it on the shelf.

“The chloral hydrate helps with insomnia. Your mother wanted to return the bottle to me. I saw it still had two-thirds left in the tincture,” Banks said. “I don’t want you to think the medicine killed Dale. He didn’t take enough to kill him, Shaun, only enough drops to induce sleep. It’s therapeutic. I allowed your mother to keep the dosage and recommended she take it to help her with nerves.”

“So, he died because something happened to his heart,” Shaun said.

Banks sat down again. He had left the lantern on the countertop behind him, and the light played across the floor behind the chair. It cast the man in darkness with the light on his back. As the doctor rubbed his hands together, his shadow looked like a creature sitting on a rock, wringing its claws.

“I’ve been a doctor for more than thirty years, Shaun. I considered your stepfather a friend more than a patient. I will miss him. I’ve witnessed hearts stopping before Dale, and I know what it looks like when a person’s heart no longer beats,” he said.

In the folds of shadow, the doctor looked somber.

“And I’ve seen what it looks like when a person dies of poison.”

“Poison?” Shaun repeated. “Do you think it’s possible?”

“Do you recall a few years ago, when Aaron Middleton died?” Banks asked.

“I remember. They had the feed store on the north side of town. Mr. Middleton used to deliver the grain to the ranch,” Shaun said.

“You were younger, not wise to the world. It turned out Mr. Middleton sired a child with a Mexican woman his wife had working for them. When it came out between them, Constance didn’t want the shame of it to get out.” Banks pointed at Shaun as if prodding his memory. “She poisoned her husband, the woman, and the infant.”

It took a little for Shaun to remember. It was four or five years ago, so he would have been twelve or thirteen at the time. He recalled something sweeping and tragic through town gossip. But it had happened to adults, and since it didn’t involve horses, Shaun wasn’t interested in gossip at that age. He frowned as the idea sunk in.

Banks alluded to something that wasn’t spoken, and Shaun didn’t play word games. Horses let him know what bothered them through their movements and sounds. People were harder for Shaun to read.

“You think someone poisoned Dale?” he asked.

“I can’t be sure, mind you,” Banks said quickly. “Constance Middleton had used arsenic to kill her husband and the Mexican woman. I know that because she confessed to me when the sheriff told me to look at the bodies.”

Banks stopped talking. The wind kicked sand against the windowpanes and the front wall. He shook a finger at Shaun before motioning to his own face for reference.

“The red blotches, the vomit. Dale had a similar condition.” Banks shrugged, as if leaving it up to Shaun for interpretation.

“Tell me, Dr. Banks, what it would take for you to speak to the magistrate about this?” he asked. It was a delicate question, but Shaun was sometimes overly blunt. Delicacy took finesse, and Shaun had little patience for either.

“Well, I’m not doing it, Shaun,” Banks said quickly. “I won’t do that to your poor mother. I’ve got no proof that someone poisoned your father. Who would do such a thing? He was a good man.” He shook his head. “No, I will not do it.”

“What would it take?”

“It would take a miracle or for someone to confess such a crime. Because without either, you cannot expect me to ruin my reputation on speculation,” Banks said.

“I’ll find out what happened,” Shaun said. He turned to leave the office. Banks took care of himself, was nimble on his feet, and caught up to Shaun as the door opened. Dust and grit rolled over the floor.

Banks caught the door before it opened enough to let Shaun leave.

“Listen to me,” Banks said. “Snooping around won’t bring back Dale. I know you’re hurting, your mother’s hurting. Even Clayton, as much as you two have never seen the same sky, he’s feeling the loss, too. Don’t go stirring up something. You hear me?”

“But you think someone poisoned him.”

“No, damn it, you weren’t listening. That’s your problem, Shaun. You half-hear what people tell you. You got skills with horses, no one can deny your ability to break even the roughest animal. People, on the other hand, you don’t show any mind. You don’t know enough to stay out of your own way. Something like this, if you start calling out what you can’t prove, it will do nothing for you.”

“How can you let a man go to his grave without knowing if someone put him there?” Shaun asked.

“God put Dale in the ground, Shaun. Whether it was through someone else’s hand or because his heart stopped, it was God that took my friend. Make no mistake about it,” Banks said and glared at Shaun with severity. “If you go down this path, I will not be a part of it. I will not say anything of what we talked about here tonight.”

“Then why the hell did you tell me anything at all?” Shaun asked, raising his voice. “If you’re not willing to do something about it, why tell me?”

Banks tolerated him. But his demeanor changed when Shaun got angry again. “Shaun, Dale often spoke kindly about you, did you know that?”

It shocked Shaun to hear the words from Banks. Dale had showed Shaun compassion through his patience with horses, and by not raising a hand against him. Whenever Shaun and Clayton scrapped, if Dale got involved, he punished the boys equally, not taking favor for his own flesh and blood. But Dale kept Shaun at arm’s length any other time.

“Dale saw you as a young man with many possibilities but no focus,” Banks said. “He wanted you to succeed, but he wanted you to put away the hate you harbored for being an outsider to the family. He thought you resented him because he wed your mother. He thought you resented your mother because she chose to be happy and not continue living a life as a widow. When she came here with you as a youngling, Dale took a shine to her immediately.”

Banks allowed the wind to carry dust into the office. He didn’t try closing the door or moving Shaun out of the way.

“I buried Dale’s wife with him. I wanted my friend to find happiness again. He found it in your mother. They were good together,” he said. “But it was always a struggle between you and everyone else. Even when Dale wanted to make you a bigger part of the family, you chose to stay away. It wounded him, and you never knew it because you’re too pigheaded to see beyond that chip you carry around on your shoulder.”

“If you thought so highly of my stepfather, Dr. Banks, help me. Come to the sheriff with me. We can talk to the magistrate. If you think someone poisoned Dale, help me prove it,” Shaun said.

“I can’t, and I won’t. Without definitive proof something happened to Dale beyond a failed heart, I will not throw away my character. I told you how I felt because I wanted you to know that sometimes things happen in this world, and you can’t change it,” Banks said. “Dale respected you, Shaun. The best you can do for him is to do the same.”

***

The ride back to the ranch took time because the horse kept its head down against the wind. Shaun wore his hat low over his eyes, face tucked back behind a bandana, and collar up against the dust. The horse used the edge of the worn gravel path to trace its way back in the dark.

Shaun passed by fellow riders and men in wagons along the road back to High Meadows Stables. Will Goff and a few of the stablemen were inside the main horse barn, playing cards at the makeshift table made from planks on a wagon wheel, when he reached the stables. They used buckets and casks for stools.

Shaun pulled the saddle off the horse and brushed the sand from its hair and mane.

“Where you been?” Will asked. “Clayton was looking for you.”

“I went into town for a while,” Shaun said.

The look on Will’s face showed skepticism. “You went to see Dr. Banks, didn’t you?”

“What’s it to you?”

“It’s not,” Will said.

He folded the hand of cards and stood from the table. Four other hostlers put away the deck and dismantled the table. Will went to the stalls and watched Shaun brushing out the horse’s mane. The other men left Shaun and Will to talk, venturing into the gusting wind and pelting dust.

“What do you know about Harvey Mack?” Shaun asked.

Will rolled his eyes and shrugged. “Not much, just a few tales from the beer hall. He’s from Tennessee, as far as anyone knows. Some think he rode cavalry for the south during the war.”

“How did Clayton meet him?”

“You’d have to ask your brother.”

Shaun shook his head, put away the brush, and led the horse into the stall with the bridle. “He’s not my brother, Will.” Shaun closed the gate. He leaned against the door. The horse tamped the fresh straw inside the stall. “Clayton never wanted me around.”

“You’re feeling that now?”

Shaun looked sideways at Will and saw the smirk. The man clapped his hand across Shaun’s shoulder.

“You and him need to bury the hatchet. You’ll have to learn to work together, or you might find yourself out on your ear.”

“Everything happened so fast,” Shaun said. It overwhelmed him. He didn’t know how to process the feelings surging through him. “I don’t understand it.”

Trust was never easy for Shaun. He never got close enough to anyone to understand what it meant to have a friendship or rely on someone. Banks’ words echoed in his head. If he brought up conspiracy, Shaun had to do it alone. What good did it do to claim something foul had happened to Dale? Who benefited from the man’s death?

“We’re burying Dale on Tuesday. Your mother’s holding the vigil tonight with Mrs. Perry and some of the other women from town. Tomorrow, we’re expecting most people close to Dale to come to the house and pay their respects.”

“And you’re telling me so I’ll stay out of the way,” Shaun said.

Will looked gloomy. “No, Shaun, I’m telling you because you need to be a part of it. Could you do it for yourself? I know you won’t do it for Clayton, but it would help if you did it for your mother and out of respect for Dale. He’d want you to be a part of the family, even when you don’t feel part of it.”

Will left the stall. He walked to the doors and looked back at Shaun. He didn’t need to say anything.

Shaun nodded. “I’ll do my part,” he said.

“That’s good to know,” Will said and closed the door behind him.

---

“A Fine Day for Revenge” is an Amazon Best-Selling novel, check it out here!

Shaun Hickman’s deepest desire has always been to become a horse trainer. The day his stepfather dies, however, his world will suddenly turn upside down. Even though Shaun grows increasingly suspicious of his stepfather’s death, believing that something treacherous has happened to him, no one wants to listen to his fears.

Will Shaun manage to unravel the truth behind the enigmatic and shocking death?

While Shaun is still haunted by the mysterious loss of his father, he will soon have to confront another daunting obstacle; his stepbrother Clayton’s decision to sell the family ranch. Moreover, Shaun is allowed to keep one horse but must leave the ranch, never to return. With nothing to live for and no place to call home, Shaun crosses paths with a horse enthusiast. Little does he know that together they’re about to change the rules of horseracing forever…

Will Shaun finally have a chance to make his way in the world, or will his hostility toward his stepbrother destroy a chance at a new life and success?

With Shaun’s move to Prescott and start in horse racing, his life will finally begin to improve. Moreover, a beautiful and sophisticated woman will soon steal his heart. Nonetheless, ghosts from the past continue to pursue him and lead him down a dark path… Will Shaun be able to overcome the lies and deceit that could undermine his chance for a good future? Or will forces beyond his control rob him of his smile once and for all?

An action-packed story, featuring complex and fascinating characters, and twists and turns that will take your breath away. A must-read for fans of Western action and romance.

“A Fine Day for Revenge” is a historical adventure novel of approximately 80,000 words. No cliffhangers, only pure unadulterated action.

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