Fifteen-year-old Joe Beck wasn’t listening as the minister eulogized his uncle but was already planning on what he would have to do as soon as they returned to the Quimby farm. He wasn’t welcome there even before his uncle had died and knew that his cousin John would soon order him to leave. While he had had a basic idea of where he would go after he left the farm, he didn’t know what he would do with the rest of his life.

Cole Turner left the Rocking T that morning to spend a couple of days with his brother and niece in Garden City. It was supposed to be a time of relaxation after having spent a few days moving those cattle to market. Any thought of quiet time vanished when he opened the door to his brother’s house.

Captain Stan Murray was finally being mustered out of the army after all of the administrative snafus that had left him in Montana Territory long after the conclusion of the War Between the States. As he began his long journey, he wasn’t going home to Michigan. He had to cross hundreds of miles of hostile Indian Territory to reach Cheyenne City in Wyoming Territory to try and find the girl that he hadn’t seen in almost ten years. She was probably married and had three children by now, but he knew he had to at least know.

Harry Glenn was asked to investigate the open and shut case of the murder of a prominent judge in Topeka, but he quickly realized that the crime was far from simple and wouldn’t be that simple to close, either.

Toby took the conductor’s hand as he stepped from the train in the dark night unsure of why his mother had sent him away. The conductor had his travel bag in his hand and Toby looked at the shadowy, unlit buildings as he was led down the street. After five minutes, the conductor guided him to a bench on the boardwalk of the sleeping town, then left his bag on the bench with him. “Now, son, I gotta leave you here. You stay there until the sheriff comes and he’ll find your aunt for you. Okay?”

Aaron hadn’t been caught by surprise by the early arrival of the Nebraska blizzard in November, so after hunkering down for the night to wait out the snow and gale-like winds, he set out in the predawn to resume his trek across the plains to get to his ranch. While he may not have been surprised by the storm, he was soon stunned by what he discovered on the frozen ground southwest of Scotts Bluff.

Rachel looked down at her husband’s dead body, the long knife protruding from his gut. She knew she’d be hanged or shot if she stayed in Missoula, so she’d have to run. But where could she go? The only place that came to mind was the hidden valley northwest of town. It was owned by a loner named Marsh Anderson, whom she had never met. She was going to have to bet her life that he wouldn’t turn her in to the sheriff, the brother of her dead husband.

Matt finally had what he wanted; a ranch to raise his Morgans. Now he was ready to take the next step; the reason for building the ranch in the first place. He would finally begin his search for the right woman to help him start a family of his own. He thought that the difficult work in achieving that dream was behind him and now the much more pleasant part lay ahead. That belief was shattered when he received a visitor with a letter from an old friend – a friend who had been hanged north of Denton.

United States Marshal War Adams stared at the telegram in disbelief. His father had been murdered? As difficult as it was to come to grips with the news, it would become more disturbing when he discovered that the person arrested for the crime was the nurse that his father had hired to ease his suffering from his killing disease. Her position gave her both the means and opportunity to commit the crime, and he knew that the nurse was the same woman whose husband he had shot and killed years earlier, giving her the motive.

He never looked back as he made his way through the gaslit streets without a penny in his pockets and no place to sleep. He should have been crushed by his desperation, but it was his anger and hate that drove him. He would use the one skill he had learned in those empty years that he now left behind him. He would enter the world of bareknuckle fighting and have to face older, stronger men to make his way in this hard world. He may be nothing, but he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

This was supposed to be a journey to find his dream of starting his own spread. As he left the Bar L just northwest of Cheyenne and rode south into Colorado, Conn already knew where he wanted to build his ranch and had enough money to buy the land and get it started. It was just a hundred mile ride through open country. What could possibly go wrong?

Sheriff Jed Morgan thinks his life is about to get a lot quieter when he gets voted out of office in a bought-and-paid for election rigged by his family’s long-time nemesis Arnie Williams. But when the new railroad comes to town and Jed’s neighbors, the Crawfords at the Bar C ranch, have their water poisoned and Arnie Williams’ hands try to stampede their cattle, Jed begins to find that his lawman days were far from over.

After five long years in the army, First Lieutenant John Flynn was finally being mustered out and would soon be going home to the family he hadn’t even heard from in all that time. But when he rode to the family home, he made two shocking discoveries: his family was gone, and he had been declared dead by the army four years earlier. He left to cross the plains of Nebraska to find his family, but he would find so much more.

Virgil Scott and his best friend Roy Sheffield left their horse ranch and were making one of their routine runs to Denver to deliver 32 horses. But the short trail drive proved to be anything but routine when late that first night, they were set upon by men wielding deadly clubs.

After clearing up an almost comedic issue in Dodge City, Cy received an assignment to go to the town of Granite in New Mexico Territory to investigate a claim of massive overcharging by the telegraphers. It wasn’t a particularly challenging issue, but it would mean a long ride and Cy actually looked forward to it. He was still in a good mood as he rode out of Dodge City and eventually Kansas. He didn’t expect to spend much time in Granite and hoped that his next job would be a little more exciting. He’d had a few that reached that level but doubted that this one would be even difficult.

Fifteen-year-old Joe Beck wasn’t listening as the minister eulogized his uncle but was already planning on what he would have to do as soon as they returned to the Quimby farm. He wasn’t welcome there even before his uncle had died and knew that his cousin John would soon order him to leave. While he had had a basic idea of where he would go after he left the farm, he didn’t know what he would do with the rest of his life.

Doc Holt listened to the boys at the other end of the bunkhouse as they joked about the night’s excitement, and he felt sick. What they were doing bothered him. Why they were doing it bothered him. But most of all, why he wasn’t doing anything to stop it bothered him.

Private Jake Elliott was apprehensive as he walked to the commander’s office. He couldn’t think of a single transgression that would have attracted the major’s attention. When he left the command building 10 minutes later, he was still numbed by the short visit. Tomorrow, he would no longer be a cavalryman, but would be returning to the family ranch outside of Fort Benton in Montana Territory. But it was the reason he was being discharged before his enlistment expired that had been the biggest shock.

US Deputy Marshal Earl Crawford had just entered the office after returning from a typically Texan assignment where bullets flew like dirt in a twister. He hadn’t even hung his hat when the boss approached him about an even more dangerous mission, but only if he chose to accept the job. Normally, he wasn’t given the choice, but in this case, even though he could have turned it down, he knew that he had to go.

Captain Stan Murray was finally being mustered out of the army after all of the administrative snafus that had left him in Montana Territory long after the conclusion of the War Between the States. As he began his long journey, he wasn’t going home to Michigan. He had to cross hundreds of miles of hostile Indian Territory to reach Cheyenne City in Wyoming Territory to try and find the girl that he hadn’t seen in almost ten years. She was probably married and had three children by now, but he knew he had to at least know.