Duel at Low Hawk

Duel at Low Hawk

An unrepentant outlaw meets a relentless lawman in this Western from Spur Award-winning author Charles G. West. Boot Stoner spent twelve years of his life behind bars for stealing horses and rustling cattle. Upon release, he added murder and kidnapping to his criminal skills—slaughtering his own parents and abducting his “sister,” a young Creek girl that his folks had adopted—before exacting revenge against the man responsible for his incarceration. U.S. Deputy Marshal John Ward is one of the West's best manhunters. He’s the only one who stands a chance of stopping Stoner’s bloody rampage—and of bringing the girl back alive.... Charles G. West is the author of more than forty action-packed Westerns. He won the 2018 Spur Award from the Western Writers of America for his novel Hell Hath No Fury . His fascination with and respect for the pioneers who braved the wild frontier of the great American West inspire him to devote his full time to writing historical novels. Chapter 1   It was a chilly spring morning when they opened the outer gate at Arkansas State Prison and ushered Boot Stoner outside the wall. When the gate closed behind him, one of the guards commented to another, "We sure as hell ain't doin' the world no favor by lettin' that son of a bitch outta here."   Twelve long and bitter years had passed since Boot had last been outside the high walls. He was sixteen when they sent him up to do time for cattle rustling and stealing a horse. If he heard the guard's remark, he paid it no mind. He had other things to think about. Owning nothing more than the suit of clothes the state of Arkansas issued him upon release, he was penniless and far from home. It was two hundred miles, as the crow flies, from Little Rock to the trading post his father had built eighteen miles north of Fort Gibson in the Cherokee Nation, and Boot had no way to get there other than on foot. Home was the only place he knew to go at this juncture in his life, even though his father had kicked him out long be-fore he was arrested.   He took one last look at the place that had been his home for the past twelve years and vowed right then never to return. This promise to himself was not made because he had learned his lesson and planned to walk the straight and narrow-far from it. As he saw it, society owed him a helluva lot for locking him up for most of his young years, and he intended to collect upon that debt with interest. As for his vow never to return-the law would have to kill him next time. He had seen all of the inside of those walls he intended to see. With these thoughts in mind, he turned to face west and started walking.   Boot had been given a paper verifying his time served, and advised that he must report to the federal district office in Fort Smith within five days. There had evidently been no consideration given to the fact that he would have to walk a hundred and twenty-five miles in that time. It made little difference to Boot Stoner. He planned to ignore the directive anyway.   Although just appointed to the Western District the year before, Judge Isaac C. Parker was a name with which Boot was familiar, and he had no intention of ever seeing the man. His only plan was to head straight for Indian Territory. If the opportunity presented itself along the way, he would steal a horse to carry him. If not, he would walk every step of the way. Lean and hard, and prison-tough, Boot was capable of walking to the Pacific Ocean if necessary.   There were certain things that he intended to give some long-awaited attention. Foremost among these was to settle with one Jacob Mashburn. Mashburn's testimony was the key piece of evidence that slammed the prison door on Boot Stoner. Boot knew there was no chance that Mashburn had seen him steal a horse from his corral. But Mashburn pointed him out and swore that Boot was the man. The fact that Boot actually did steal the red roan was beside the point. It was in the dark of night, and Mashburn could not have been certain if the thief was Boot or any of the other three rustlers who stampeded the cattle. The fact that Boot was a half-breed seemed to help the judge believe Mashburn's eyewitness report. At any rate, Boot planned to make Mashburn pay for his testimony.   He walked until dark on his first day of freedom, leaving the town of Little Rock behind him. Passing isolated farms along the dusty road, he gave no thought to food or drink until the sun began to settle upon the horizon. Approaching a modest farmhouse in the twilight of the evening, Boot decided it was time to acquire the supplies and transportation he needed.   Five-year-old Margaret Woodcock slipped out of the house and ran to the barn to say good night to the new calf. Margaret's father had told her it could be her calf, but she would have to accept the responsibility for feeding and taking care of it. A week old now, the calf still looked to its mother for nourishment in spite of Margaret's attempts to feed it f