The Stranger (Bailey Clan Westerns Book 11)

A Stranger’s Return to the Frontier

After the Civil War, Ronan Bailey seeks a new beginning in the open ranges of the North. But peace remains elusive. Wounded in a violent ambush near the Kansas border, Ronan finds himself pulled into a bitter range war in Nebraska, where rustlers, land disputes, and old scores threaten to reignite the chaos he left behind.

As Ronan recovers and takes work on a troubled ranch, he uncovers a sinister plot by a former wartime outlaw, Zayn Walsh, who now poses as a rancher with ambitions of dominance. With the help of allies from Texas and the love of a local woman, Ronan is forced to choose: keep running from his past, or fight for the future he yearns to build.

Gritty and evocative, The Stranger delivers a classic tale of redemption, justice, and the hard truths of frontier life. It’s the eleventh installment in Terence Newnes’s Bailey Clan Westerns—where family, loyalty, and courage are forged in fire.

Start reading The Stranger today and ride alongside Ronan Bailey in his most personal battle yet.

Excerpt from the book

Flight!

He rode up the slope of the hill, searching for a place to hole up in. He was a tall, well-built, strong young man; but now he was wounded, bloodied, weary, and all he wanted to do was to lie down and sleep. But he knew the men would not stop following him and, in the shape he was in, he couldn’t fight a ten-year-old boy who had one hand tied behind his back. His head was throbbing and his mind was fuzzy, but he knew he had crossed the border from Kansas to Nebraska sometime yesterday – or was it the day before that? He was in a land of rolling, low hills, and as he dipped down on the other side, he saw a dense copse of trees growing halfway up the other side to his right. Even though he could hardly think straight, his instincts still seemed to be working, because he glimpsed what looked to be a cave through the trees and he turned his horse and rode into them.

He weaved his way slowly through the thick tree growth and then had to stop to reorient himself with the direction of the cave. He rubbed his eyes while he tried to think, and after a while, he turned a little more to the north and rode up the slope. He was looking all around to try to spot the cave when he rode right into it. He pulled up and just sat in his saddle, looking over the place. It was more a huge cleft in the land than a cave, and he realized that what he had spotted from the other side was the upper part of the opening. The entrance was only five feet across, but almost twenty feet high in front. But inside, the roof sloped down rapidly to about ten feet and the sides opened up into a proper cave.

He swung down wearily from the saddle and walked around to explore the cave. It was almost twenty feet wide inside and went back more than thirty feet; but what brought a smile to his haggard face was a spring at the back of the cave that had formed a large pool. He tasted the water, and it was clear, sweet, and cold. He knelt down and threw water on his face and then drank a little. He hadn’t had a sip of water for almost two days now, since his canteen had run dry, and he knew the folly of drinking heavily when his body was parched. He sat there for ten minutes, drinking a little at a time until he felt life flowing back into his body and his mind started to clear. First things first, he told himself, as he stood up. He needed to wipe out his tracks to this place to prevent his enemies from following him. He went to the entrance and saw that the wind had picked up. He thought for a moment and then went back and let his horse drink from the pool. Then he pulled off his boots and put on his moccasins before mounting his horse.