The Hired Gun (Bailey Clan Westerns Book 5)

Book summary

The Hired Gun follows Declan Bailey as he ventures from Pine Mountain, Tennessee, into the untamed West, seeking adventure and forging a life amid the rugged railroads and perilous cattle drives. As a hired gun, his journey spans decades, shaped by loss and hard choices, culminating in a pivotal confrontation in the Maricopa Mountains.

Excerpt from The Hired Gun (Bailey Clan Westerns Book 5)

Pine Mountain

Making a living on the mountain slopes in Tennessee was never easy; people grew potatoes, some vegetables, and corn. There was abundant wildlife in the forests, and they shot the meat that they ate, but winters were the hardest time of year. Emmett Bailey married Ann Parker from the Cumberland Plateau, and they had a son named Declan. Ann had a difficult pregnancy, and after the birth of her son, she never really recovered her health. Emmett decided against having any more children and did his best to help his wife regain her strength. But Ann’s health continued to deteriorate, and one bitter winter, when Declan was three years old, she passed away in her sleep. From then on, it was just Declan and his father; and from the time he was four years old, Declan started helping out around the cabin and in the small field that Emmett had cleared to farm. Friends advised Emmett to marry again since he had a young child to take care of, but he had truly loved his Ann and couldn’t bring himself to marry another woman.

He taught his son to shoot with a Colt revolver when the lad was seven years old, although Declan had to hold the gun with both hands. But Declan was a strong lad, and by the age of ten, he could hold the Colt with one hand and shoot. By the age of nine, Declan hunted for turkey and deer in the forests using a caplock rifle. His father also taught him how to use a lasso. He told his son, “I learned to use this when I was younger. I worked in Mexico on a big ranchero, and those boys are experts in the long lasso. If you ever go west, a cattle ranch is a good place to find work, and skill with a lasso is a good thing over there.” Declan said with determination, “I will definitely go to the western lands, Pa. But why don’t we go now?” Emmett squatted on his haunches and told his son, “That’s a wild land out there, son, and you’re still too young. Out there, if something were to happen to me, there would be no one to take care of you. But as soon as you turn thirteen, I promise you that we will go.”

One day, he told his son, “The law in those lands is mostly confined to the towns, and a man has to learn to defend himself against those who would break the law. Keep practicing with your pistol and rifle, because there will be times when those guns will be the only law around to protect you.” Declan was an only child, so he mostly played with the children of the Cherokee, from whom he learned to recognize the medicinal plants. They also taught him knife fighting and how to move silently when stalking animals in the forests. By the time he turned thirteen, he was an expert in firearms, using the lasso, and tracking and hunting.

Father and son were making plans to travel westwards, and Emmett was busy settling his affairs before leaving. But that year, winter came early, and they debated whether to leave now or wait for spring. One month into the winter, Emmett Bailey went to track down a mountain lion that had killed one of the three horses that he owned; he never came back from that hunt. They found him the next day, mauled to death by the cougar that was lying dead on top of him with Emmett’s knife stuck in its throat. They checked his rifle and discovered that it had misfired, which most probably gave the mountain lion the chance to attack him. The horse he had been riding was unharmed, so it figured that he was on foot when he tried to shoot the cougar, or the cougar knocked him from his horse and then they fought. Many Baileys came for the funeral, and later Kate Bailey told Declan, “You should come and live with us. After all, your dad was Nolan’s cousin, and you’re now alone.” But Declan knew that Kate had four mouths to feed, and he wasn’t about to add to that number. He told her without hesitation, “Don’t worry about me, Aunty Katie. Pappy left me with enough to see me through. I’ll be okay, I promise!”

He packed his few belongings, took the rifle, revolver, the two horses, and left Pine Mountain. He found ten dollars where his father usually kept his money, and he took that as well. He was a big-made, strapping young lad, just three inches under six feet, and noted for his strength. He was also just thirteen years old. He made his way to Knoxville, which was on the river and bustling when compared to the mountain slopes. He shot his own food on the way and hoarded the ten dollars that he had. When he reached Knoxville, he found that the construction of the railroad had started again. He tied his horses to a hitching rail and asked a man who seemed to be just loitering outside a saloon, “Where do I go to sign up for working on the railroad?” The man looked at him from head to toe and asked, “How old are you, son?” Declan replied without hesitation, “Sixteen, Sir.” The man sized him up again and then smiled, saying, “If you say so, son. You got any family hereabouts?” Declan hesitated this time but then said, “I’m from Pine Mountain, and my Dad died last week, so I got no one.” The man stopped smiling and, stepping down on to the street, he said, “I’m sorry to hear that. This is a tough job, laying ties, and the road crews are even tougher. Most of them are good men, although rough, but there are always some who are bullies and who would pick on you because of your age.”

Declan shrugged and said, “I kin take care of myself, Sir.” The man told him, “I’m Angus Boyle, and they call me Gus. I’m hiring for the railroad, which is why I’ve been hanging out here hoping to sign up some men.” He scratched his chin while he thought and then said, “Come with me.” He took Declan to the railway camp, where there were cabins and piles of wooden ties and metal rails. He pointed to a crosstie and told him, “Pick up one end of that and try to heave it to the side.” Declan walked up to the wooden beam and sized it up for a moment. Then he bent and picked up one end of it and laid it on his shoulder. He then moved his hands down as far as they could reach, and lifting the beam a little, he took a step forward and placed it again on his shoulder. He did this again until the center of the beam was resting on his shoulder, and then he lifted up the other end. Balancing it on his shoulder, he walked forward four paces and then heaved the wooden beam off his shoulder to the ground. He turned around, and Gus just said, “You’re hired; report here at sunrise tomorrow and I’ll sign you up.” Declan thanked him and was turning to leave when Gus asked him, “You got a place to stay, son?” Declan pointed to the trees at the edge of the town and said, “Plenty of places right there to sleep.”

Knoxville to Chattanooga

The next morning, long before the first light of day, Declan was standing in front of the cabin that served as an office for the railway. After about fifteen minutes, the door opened and Gus stepped out. He took in a deep breath of the fresh air and was turning to go back in when he stopped and stared at Declan. “Don’t you sleep, son?” he asked him. Declan smiled and said, “Folks up the mountain always get up long before dawn, and I reckon it’s a habit that’s hard to break.” Gus hesitated but then said, “Give me five minutes to wash up, and then I’ll sign you up.” Ten minutes later, he sat down at a desk and wrote Declan’s name in a ledger, and in the column for age he put sixteen. He pointed to a column and told Declan to put his mark there. Declan took up the pen and signed his name without hesitation.

Gus raised his eyebrows and asked him, “Your mother teach you to write, son?” Declan shook his head and told him, “She died when I was about three years old; it’s only been my Dad and me since then. He taught me to read and write; in fact, the only time he took the belt to me was the one time I refused to study.” Gus said, “Your father was a good man, son. Reading and writing is what takes a man far in this country.” They went out of the cabin and saw a few men who had come in. Gus called out, “Logan!” A tall, broad-shouldered, well-built man in his thirties came forward, and Gus told him, “This here is Declan Bailey from Pine Mountain. I’ve signed him up, and I’d like for you to sort of take him under your wing and show him how the work is done.” He turned to go back into the office and then said, “If anyone asks, he’s sixteen years old.”

Logan Collins was part of a group of Irishmen laying track who stuck together and helped each other out. They taught Declan the rhythm of laying track, which did not tire a man too easily. Declan had always worked hard since he was a small child, and he reveled in the tough work. He always did more than he was asked to do, and the tough Irishmen adopted him as one of their own. Logan was a renowned bare-knuckle fighter, and he taught Declan a thing or two about fighting. There was a group of Germans who also stuck together and worked together, and there was usually a friendly rivalry between the two groups to see who could lay track the fastest. But there was one in that group called Karl, who was a morose, dour-faced man. He was built like a bear and had tremendous strength. He was a rude and sullen man, and everyone usually just left him alone. One day, he was carrying a crosstie on his shoulder when his foot slipped, and the weight of the crosstie almost drove him to his knees. Declan was nearby, and he rushed forward and caught hold of the crosstie until Karl had got his balance.

Karl threw down the crosstie, then turned suddenly and hit Declan; or rather, he tried to hit Declan. The blow was unexpected, but Declan had lightning reflexes, and he just swayed his body out of the way of Karl’s fist and then slammed his own fist into Karl’s stomach. It was like hitting a brick wall, and Karl just grunted and swung his fist again. This time, Declan stepped inside the swing, and his right hand shot out in a straight punch to Karl’s nose, which drew blood. Logan ran up and pulled Declan to the side. He told Karl, “A grown man trying to beat up a young lad is not a thing of honor. You know the rules about fighting on the job when laying track, so do you want to get fired?” Karl held his bleeding nose and glared at Declan, but then he walked away without saying a word. All Logan told Declan was, “You learn fast, boy, which is a good thing.”