The Bailey Brothers (Bailey Clan Westerns Book 2)

Book summary

Following the Cedar Creek war, Brian and Mark Bailey journey across the untamed West, facing gunfights, mining conflicts, and the harsh wilderness as they strive to build their own ranch. Grit and loyalty guide them through adventure and danger, forging a legacy in the rugged frontier.

Excerpt from The Bailey Brothers (Bailey Clan Westerns Book 2)

The Town of Red Butte

They rode into the town of Red Butte in New Mexico Territory. Two tall and lean young men, covered in trail dust, for they had ridden far, and all they wanted was a drink to wash away the taste of the dust and a meal that they had not cooked for themselves. They swung down from their saddles before the Bison Head saloon, and tying their horses to the hitching rail, they banged the dust off their clothes with their hats and then walked into the bar. The two young men were brothers, Brian and Mark Bailey. Both had chiseled features with a strong chin and grey-blue eyes, and it was easy to see that they were related. Brian was a Civil War veteran and the elder of the two at twenty-seven, while Mark was twenty-five. They were on their way to Arizona, hoping to make money from the goldfields so that they could start a ranch of their own. Starting a good-sized ranch needed money, and they were hoping to make that in the goldfields.

They walked up to the bar and Brian told the barkeep, a balding middle-aged man with a limp who looked like a retired puncher, “Whiskey for two, and make them doubles.” The barkeep poured their drinks, and Brian asked him, “Friend, could you point us to the best eating place in town? We’ve been on the trail for a long time, eating our own cooking, and we’re sure looking forward to some good food!” The barkeep gave him a long look and then said, “The Beef Steak, just down the street, is the best.” He hesitated and then asked, “You boys just passing through, or are you looking for work here?” Brian smiled at him and said, “Friend, just as soon as we finish our drink here, we’re going to the Beef Steak for a good meal, and then we’ll be on our way.” Mark commented, “Yeah, we want no part in whatever’s going down in this town right now.” The barkeep gave them a speculative look and then moved away.

Both the brothers had scanned the room as soon as they had entered, and they could sense the tension in the place. They had no doubt that trouble was building, but Mark was sincere when he said that they wanted no part of whatever was going on in the town. They were both young in years but battle-hardened veterans of trouble, and they could size up a situation in a glance. At the hitching rail, they had noted two horses wearing the Box T brand and five horses wearing the Double B brand. There were quite a few men in the saloon, but at the bar stood five men together, and at a table sat a blond-haired youngster who looked barely eighteen years old, talking to a tough-looking cowboy who must have been over thirty. The five men at the bar kept glancing at the two punchers at the table. Brian and Mark just needed the one look at the five to peg them as gunmen for hire; they had seen a few in their time. They downed their drinks and were turning to leave when one of the five men said, “Hold it there! Just stay where you are!” Two of the men had moved across to the side of the room while one had moved to stand by the door. The man still standing at the bar, who had just spoken, was a broad-faced, clean-shaven man of average height who wore two tied-down guns and whose attention was now directed at the two men sitting at the table. The last man was moving slowly towards the table where the two cowboys sat. It was obvious to the brothers that the five men were boxing in the two cowboys.

The man moving towards the table, a tall broad-shouldered man with a low-slung tied-down gun, had approached from the side so that he was facing both the cowboys, who looked up at his approach. The older, tough-looking cowboy started to get up, but the man said, “Sit still! You’re covered from all sides. There’s one man at the door and two behind you, so make a move and you’re dead!” The youngster said, “So you’re with the Double B? I ain’t seen you around before.” The tall man told him with a grim smile, “And you won’t see me after this either. Both of you stand up slowly and unbuckle your gun belts. Make a wrong move and we’ll shoot you where you stand.” Both the cowboys stood up slowly, and the blond-haired youngster said, “Even if we drop our gun belts, you’re going to shoot us anyway!” The tall man shrugged and told him, “You can die here or outside on the street, your choice!”

Suddenly, a voice from the bar spoke loud and clear, “I never did like to see a fixed fight.” It was Mark who had spoken, and Brian sighed and told the man at the bar with the two tied-down guns, “Don’t try it, Mister! Not if you want to stay healthy.” The man had shifted his attention to Mark when he spoke up, and his hand was sweeping down for his gun when Brian warned him. His hand was on his gun butt, but he froze when he found himself staring at the gun in Brian’s hand. The other four men had also turned at Mark’s voice, and they saw the gun in Mark’s hand. That distraction was enough for the cowboys, and the youngster and the tough-looking cowboy had drawn their guns as well. Brian gestured with his gun and told the man at the bar, “Go over there and join those two.” The man stared at him in anger, and Brian said mildly, “Or I could just shoot you in the knee, your choice!” The man glared at him for a moment longer but then turned and went to join the two who were standing at the side of the room. Mark told the tall man at the table and the one standing by the door, “You two move over there as well. I maybe ought to tell you not to make any sudden moves, but what the hell, if you feel lucky you just go right ahead.” The tall man said angrily, “There are still five of us, and we still have our guns! It looks to me like it’s you two who are gonna need some luck!”

Two shots rang out, and the two men who had first moved to the side of the room stared stupidly at their right hands dripping blood. One was shot in the forearm, and one in the biceps. Brian said in a mild voice, “That’s true, what you just said, but we don’t believe in luck, so now there are three of you.” The tall man stared at the smoking gun in Brian’s fist, and he slowly licked his lips. The stocky, broad-faced man who had first told the brothers to stay put, now snarled at Brian, “You’re a big man when you got the drop! Leather it, and we’ll see just how fast you are!” It was Mark who answered him. “Mister,” he told him, “your first mistake was to stop us from leaving this here bar, and now your second mistake is to challenge us to a gunfight. Move to the center of the room!” He then told the tall man, “You join your sidekicks over there at the side of the room.” The tall man walked across the room, and the stocky gunman moved to the center and faced Brian.

The blond-haired youngster had been staring in fascination at the brothers and at what was happening, and now he said, “I don’t know who you gentlemen are, but I’m mighty glad you’re here. We got those four covered, so you just forget about them!” Brian faced the stocky gunman and slid his gun into his holster. The gunman snarled, “Now you…” His hand was streaking for his gun as he spoke, and then a shot rang out, and he fell dead with a hole in the middle of his forehead. Mark said conversationally, “You could have at least waited until he had completed what he was going to say.” Brian shrugged and replied, “Well, as Dad always says…” Mark interrupted him, “Yeah, yeah, I know. If you’re going to shoot, don’t wait for the sun to set. Seems like nobody gave such good advice to that hombre; he just couldn’t stop talking!” Brian told the remaining four gunmen, “Drop your gun belts and you can leave. But do it now before I change my mind!” There was no hesitation or talk; the men dropped their gun belts and left the saloon.

The blond-haired youngster and the older cowboy came over, and the barkeep told the brothers, “I thought you boys said that you didn’t want to get involved in whatever was happening in this here town!” Mark shrugged and told him, “And we didn’t! We were just about to leave when that gent lying dead there ordered us not to leave.” Brian said, “We couldn’t just stand here and let them carry out their ambush. Bushwhackers are our least favorite people!” The blond youngster came up to them and said, “Boy! Am I ever grateful that you two stepped in, or we’d be dead by now!” He stuck out his hand and said, “I’m Rick Taylor of the Box T, and this here is our Segundo, Trent Williams.” They all shook hands, and Brian said, “I’m Brian Bailey, and this man here who just can’t keep his nose out of trouble is my brother, Mark.” Trent Williams sighed and gestured to the dead man, “These must be new hires of the Double B, which was why they caught us off guard. We’re going to have to be mighty careful and suspicious of every stranger in future!” Brian laughed, and Trent said with a wry smile, “Present company excepted!” Mark interrupted and said, “It was nice meeting you gentlemen, but my stomach is starting to think that my brain has died, so if you don’t mind, we’ll just mosey on down to that Beef Steak place and have us some good food.” Rick said eagerly, “Mind if we join you? Least I can do is buy you a good steak, and the Beef Steak has the best in the country!”

They walked into the Beef Steak eating house and were surprised to find that the place was clean and neat. They sat down, and a buxom lady came over to their table. “Hi Rick, Trent!” she said. “Was that gunfire I just heard? You boys shooting some more Double B gunmen?” Rick laughed and introduced the brothers, saying, “Brian, Mark, this lady is Pam McGowan, and she owns this place. She also makes the best food in the country! Pam, these here are the Bailey brothers.” Brian and Mark stood up and shook hands with Pam, and Mark said, “Pleased to meet you, Ma’am. I’m hungry as a lobo wolf, and I’ll take two of everything you’ve got!” They were served thick, juicy steaks with roast gravy for the fresh bread and four eggs each with bacon on the side. No one spoke as they ate, and it was obvious that the brothers were hungry and had healthy appetites. Finally they sat back with a contented sigh, and Brian told Pam, “Ma’am, I ain’t seen eggs in a coon’s age, and that steak must have been made in heaven!” She laughed and said, “Call me Pam; everyone here does.” Mark said, “Well, Pam, I might just stick around for a while just to eat your cooking every day!” She laughed again, but her eyes were curious, and she said, “So you’re not with the Box T?”