David Fitz-Gerald
Frontier & Pioneer Western Fiction
Book Description
Wagon master Alvah Nye must reach Independence as fast as possible, but when he encounters a desperate family in need, he can't ride past. It's not in him.
Road agents chase them down Mount Shasta. Winter-hardened Comanche circle the prairie. Worst of all, the treacherous Dill Gang closes in beyond Wagon Mound. Running through a gauntlet of bullets and arrows is hard enough. Shepherding a grieving family along an unforgiving trail makes it all but impossible.
If they don't make it back to Missouri in time, Alvah and his brothers of the road will go bust. Endless setbacks wreck their chances. They'll be lucky if they make it there at all…
But arrival isn't the end of the journey. It's only the beginning. Alvah isn't the sort to stand still. He lives for action. Adventure pulses through his veins. Forward is all he understands. And somewhere out there is a future he's meant to discover, a destiny waiting to catch fire.
Return to Independence is the gripping prequel to The Frontier Adventures of Alvah Nye, a Western saga of courage, loyalty, and building a future out of nothing.
Set in the same world as Ghosts Along the Oregon Trail, this novella welcomes new readers and longtime fans eager to follow Alvah Nye into the vast frontier.
Return to Independence is perfect for readers of John Deacon and Ron Schwab. If you enjoy clean, classic western epics, reminiscent of Gunsmoke, Wagon Train, and Little House on the Prairie, Return to Independence is the ride for you.
Grab your copy today.
Excerpt
From Chapter 1, opening scene
Alvah Nye hunched over Monsoon's neck and prayed for speed as the big bay thundered down the trail.
Tall pines towered overhead.
The going was narrow. Low branches clipped his shoulders, but he dug his spurs into his horse's belly, and ignored the nettlesome boughs.
Monsoon was strong, stocky, and dependable, but he wasn't built for speed. Alvah was bigger than most riders, standing six foot four, with broad shoulders and thick arms. It took a bigger mount like Monsoon to haul such a man.
Alvah's brothers of the trail, Arikta, Dembi Koofai, and Stillman Southmaid were all about twenty, same as Alvah. Despite their years, they were hardy, well tested, and good under fire. But compared to Alvah, they were smaller, weighed less, and their horses carried them faster.
It wasn't important to keep up with them. He only needed to outrun the highwaymen. Riding fast, charging hard, and peppering them with bullets.
The wagon train crew carried little, just the necessities and their reward from last year's expedition. Alvah was keen on keeping his hide, protecting his stake, and looking after his men.
But the outlaws' horses were fresher. They were likely to overrun Alvah before they reached his compadres.
He never planned to be a wagon master. On the way to Oregon, he realized farming wasn't for him. When disaster befell the wagon master and his assistant, Alvah stepped up.
He'd started the year nearly broke. He'd spent everything he had on a wagon, a team of oxen, and provisions. With his horse and a retriever named Honey, he'd set off in search of his fortune. Now he was the wagon master with a thick belt of cash at his waist.
The whine of a bullet sailed past his ear. It was hard to fire a gun from the back of a galloping horse, but easier for the riders behind. They didn't have to twist in the saddle and ride blind to take a shot.
A wild blast of alarm pulsed through his core.
He knew he was about to be overrun. It was time to look for a spot to wheel Monsoon off the trail and mount a defense.
Just ahead, Stillman Southmaid lost his hat, and Alvah strained to look forward between Monsoon's ears. It looked as if Stillman's boot had slipped from a stirrup as well. Rio, his palomino, was slowing down.
Alvah turned his head and looked behind him. He knew that there were at least two tough riders chasing after them. Now he could see three. Maybe there were more.
With a clenched jaw, tight lips, and another jolt of worry, Alvah was sure something was wrong.
Another bullet whined past his shoulder. They were getting closer. He had to do something.
But he was too late.
Stillman's shoulder sagged. Suddenly, Alvah realized that Stillman had been hit.