Survivor Pass Read online

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  Books by Shirleen Davies

  Historical Western Romance Series

  MacLarens of Fire Mountain

  Tougher than the Rest, Book One

  Faster than the Rest, Book Two

  Harder than the Rest, Book Three

  Stronger than the Rest, Book Four

  Deadlier than the Rest, Book Five

  Wilder than the Rest, Book Six

  Redemption Mountain

  Redemption’s Edge, Book One

  Wildfire Creek, Book Two

  Sunrise Ridge, Book Three

  Dixie Moon, Book Four

  Survivor Pass, Book Five

  MacLarens of Boundary Mountain

  Colin’s Quest, Book One,

  Brodie’s Gamble, Book Two, Releasing 2016

  Contemporary Romance Series

  MacLarens of Fire Mountain

  Second Summer, Book One

  Hard Landing, Book Two

  One More Day, Book Three

  All Your Nights, Book Four

  Always Love You, Book Five

  Hearts Don’t Lie, Book Six

  No Getting Over You, Book Seven

  ‘Til the Sun Comes Up, Book Eight, Releasing 2016

  Peregrine Bay

  Reclaiming Love, Book One, A Novella

  Our Kind of Love, Book Two

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  Survivor Pass

  Redemption Mountain

  Historical Western Romance Series

  SHIRLEEN DAVIES

  Book Five in the Redemption Mountain

  Historical Western Romance Series

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  Copyright © 2016 by Shirleen Davies

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  For permission requests, contact the publisher.

  Avalanche Ranch Press, LLC

  PO Box 12618

  Prescott, AZ 86304

  Survivor Pass is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used facetiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is wholly coincidental.

  Book design and conversions by Joseph Murray at 3rdplanetpublishing.com

  Cover design by the Kim Killion, The Killion Group

  ISBN: 978-1-941786-32-1

  I care about quality, so if you find something in error, please contact me via email at [email protected].

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  Description

  Survivor Pass, Book Five, Redemption Mountain Historical Western Romance Series

  “The Redemption Mountain series is as good as historical romance gets—vivid settings, memorable characters, love, and lots at stake. Shirleen Davies knows how to bring the old west to life. You feel as if you've traveled, with the characters, to the frontier. I hope there will be more to come!” Book Review

  He thought he’d found a quiet life…

  Cash Coulter settled into a life far removed from his days of fighting for the South and crossing the country as a bounty hunter. Now a deputy sheriff, Cash wants nothing more than to buy some land, raise cattle, and build a simple life in the frontier town of Splendor, Montana. But his whole world shifts when his gaze lands on the most captivating woman he’s ever seen. And the feeling appears to be mutual.

  But nothing is as it seems…

  Alison McGrath moved from her home in Kentucky to the rugged mountains of Montana for one reason—to find the man responsible for murdering her brother. Despite using a false identity to avoid any tie to her brother’s name, the citizens of Splendor have no intention of sharing their knowledge about the bank robbery which killed her only sibling. Alison knows her circle of lies can’t end well, and her growing for Cash threatens to weaken the revenge which drives her.

  And the troubles are mounting…

  There is danger surrounding them both—men who seek vengeance as a way to silence the past…by any means necessary.

  Survivor Pass is book five in the Redemption Mountain historical western romance series. It is a full length novel with an HEA.

  From the Author

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  Visit my website for a list of characters for each series.

  http://www.shirleendavies.com/character-list.html

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  Acknowledgements

  A special thank you to my husband and chief inspiration, Richard, who spends endless hours reading and re-reading my manuscripts to ensure accuracy and content flow. His help is instrumental in providing my readers with solid stories and engaging characters.

  As always, many thanks to my wonderful resources, including my editor, Kim Young, proofreader, Alicia Carmical, Diane Lebow, who is a whiz at guiding my social media endeavors, my cover designer, Kim Killion, The Killion Group, and Joseph Murray, who is a genius at formatting my books for both print and electronic versions.

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  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Other Books by Shirleen Davies

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  Survivor

  Pass

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  Prologue

  Battle of Atlanta

  July 1864

  Years later, he’d look back on today, believing these were how nightmares were created.

  “General Hood’s orders are clear, Captain Coulter. Your men will drop back from their outer lines, march through and out of the city. You’ll leave tonight and position your men to jump into General McPherson’s left flank while General Wheeler attacks McPherson’s wagon trains.” As he spoke, Confederate Lieutenant General William Hardee thrust a finger, pointing to locations on the map, emphasizing the severity of the campaign. “It is critical we stop their advance. Am I clear, Captain?”

  Captain Cash Coulter knew Union General McPherson’s men would be a tough opponent. Under the command of Union General William Tecumseh Sherman, the Army of the North continued their march toward Atlanta, winning one battle after another in their attempt to destroy a major industrial center and railroad hub in the heart of the South. Any success by the Union troops would be disastrous to the South’s strategy.

  “Yes, sir. My men will hold the line.” Cash’s gaze shifted from the map, focusing on Hardee’s stern features. “I’ll need at least six hour
s to get into position.”

  “You have three, Captain. Hood’s men are five miles north of Atlanta. Delays can mean the difference between saving the city and letting it fall into enemy hands.”

  General Hardee’s words played over and over in Cash’s mind as he encouraged his men during the grueling march. Exhaustion, the sweltering night, and dusty roads contributed to the slower than anticipated progress. Before his men could gain position, word came from Hardee. He could wait no longer, deciding to deploy.

  Cursing the decision, knowing his men weren’t far enough into McPherson’s flank to achieve their goal, he positioned his troops.

  “Captain, we need more time.” First Lieutenant Stephen Ramsey kept his voice low, although the urgency was clear. “Captain Davis is to our east and already experiencing fire from Union sharpshooters.” Ramsey had become indispensable as a tracker and tactical leader. The only man Cash trusted more was Captain Beauregard Davis, who led another division under the command of Hardee.

  “We have no more time, Ramsey. Get the men into position.”

  The sounds of artillery and the screams of the injured split the air for hours as morning turned to afternoon, then evening. Gunfire gave way to war cries and shouts as the forces met in savage hand-to-hand combat, neither side giving up as evening turned to the dark of night. When advancement proved futile, Cash searched for Ramsey, determined to move his remaining men south.

  “Captain Coulter!”

  The shout from an infantryman went up to his right. Crouching, Cash ran toward the man, dropping to his knees where one of his men lay injured, curses streaming from the man’s lips. Dirt and blood covered his clothing, his left leg bent at an odd angle. Taking a closer look, Cash sucked in a breath when he saw two bars, indicating a first lieutenant.

  “Ramsey…” Rolling his friend over, Cash swallowed at the damage to his left leg and arm. “Get help. Now!” Staunching the flow of blood, he waved to another lieutenant. “Move the men south. Take a position, and damn it to hell, hold it.”

  “You need to go.” Ramsey spoke through gritted teeth, trying unsuccessfully to move his left arm. “Leave me, Captain.”

  Cash continued to wrap the wound on Ramsey’s left leg, fearing the worst. He glanced around, torn between his duty to lead his men and loyalty to a friend.

  Ramsey tried to rise, then fell back. “Hear me, Cash. Go.” Sucking in a ragged breath, he closed his eyes against the pain. “Either I’ll make it or I won’t. There’s no more you can do.”

  Hearing the pounding of boots, Cash glanced over his shoulder to see two men drop a stretcher next to him.

  “We’ll take care of him, Captain,” one of the men said as they shouldered their way past Cash. They grasped Ramsey by his shoulders and good leg, then unceremoniously dropped him on the stretcher.

  “Damn it, men. Be careful.” Cash stayed next to them as they ran toward a waiting wagon. Stepping aside, he watched as they laid Ramsey inside. “Hold,” Cash yelled as the wagon began to lurch forward. Gripping Ramsey’s hand, he leaned over the sideboards. “Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”

  Ramsey nodded, his eyes beginning to roll back.

  “Anything, Stephen. Don’t forget,” Cash whispered as he took one last look at the wagon, praying he’d see his friend again.

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  Chapter One

  Splendor, Montana

  February 1868

  “This is your stop, ma’am.” The driver held out his hand, glancing around to see if anyone waited for the lone passenger in his stagecoach. He turned his head to spit the trail dust from his mouth. “Sorry, ma’am.”

  “Quite understandable.” Alison Burns McGrath took the driver’s hand, glancing down at the mud, grimacing as she thought of her one good pair of shoes landing in the muck.

  “Stand aside, Charlie. I’ll take care of the lady.”

  Before she had a chance to react, strong hands grasped her waist, swinging her toward the boardwalk, holding steady as her feet touched the ground. Stepping back, he tipped his hat.

  “I’m Sheriff Gabe Evans, ma’am.” His eyes narrowed when she stared up at him, saying nothing and showing no interest in those standing around. “Is someone meeting you?”

  Clearing her throat, Alison took a step back, adjusting her hat as she gripped her reticule in the other hand. “I believe Mr. Horace Clausen planned to meet me.” She dug into her handbag, checking the piece of paper with the banker’s name. “Perhaps he doesn’t know the stage has arrived.”

  Gabe peered down the street toward the bank before a shout caught his attention. “There he is.” He nodded at a tall, slender man with graying hair and a short beard walking toward them.

  “Mrs. Burns?” Horace asked, making a slight bow when she nodded. “I’m Horace Clausen. I hope your journey wasn’t too difficult.”

  “Long, but uneventful, Mr. Clausen.” She looked between the two men, then focused her attention on Gage. “Thank you for coming to my aid, Sheriff.”

  “My pleasure, Mrs. Burns, and welcome to Splendor. I’ll leave you two to your business.” Touching the brim of his hat, Gabe crossed the street, disappearing into the Dixie Saloon.

  Horace chuckled at his hasty departure. “You’ll have to excuse the sheriff, Mrs. Burns. He married a couple months ago and can’t seem to stay away from his wife for more than a few hours.” He sobered at the confusion on her face.

  “The sheriff’s wife works in a saloon?” Alison clamped her mouth shut, wishing she could take the words back.

  “Yes, she does. She’s one of the owners.” He picked up the traveling bag Charlie had deposited on the boardwalk before taking her elbow to guide her toward the bank. “You’ll have plenty of time to get to know the people in town. I’m sure you’ll be quite pleased with the people of Splendor.”

  She narrowed her gaze at him, not responding. Being pleased wasn’t in Alison’s plans. She’d left Kentucky for one purpose, which didn’t include becoming close with the people of Splendor.

  “Thank you, Mr. Clausen. I’m certain you’re right.”

  “Don’t forget this, Mrs. Burns.” Charlie lumbered toward them, balancing an odd-shaped crate in his arms. Setting it next to Clausen, he swiped his arm across his forehead. “I’ll be getting lunch, then heading out.”

  “Thank you so much. You’ve been a great help.” Alison smiled, seeing Charlie’s face redden before he turned to leave.

  “May I assume this is for your business?” Clausen asked.

  “It’s my sewing machine, Mr. Clausen. I was able to obtain it from a traveling merchant in Kentucky, who purchased it from one of the factories in New York after the war.” She reached down to pat the crate. “It was my good fortune to secure it for my shop.”

  “I’d heard of the factories in the north that sprang up to make uniforms during the war. I’ve never seen one of those machines in operation, though.”

  “Well, Mr. Clausen, now’s your chance.”

  Alison stood in the middle of her millinery and seamstress shop, her gaze moving over the hat forms, ribbon, bolts of fabric, thread, lace, buttons, and paper patterns left by the previous owner. It had been her good fortune to spot the newspaper ad Horace placed for the relatives of the woman who’d succumbed to consumption, leaving a good business in a growing town.

  The timing had been perfect. The merchant coming through town had wanted nothing more than to rid himself of the cumbersome sewing machine. Although her mother objected, she’d paid the small amount he requested, then shooed him on his way before he realized the bargain he’d left behind. She smiled to herself.

  “Hello. Are you the new owner?”

  Alison turned at the cheery voice, seeing three women step inside.

  “Yes, I am.” She walked up to them. “Welcome to my shop. I’m Alison Mc…Burns.” She’d almost slipped and used her surname of McGrath rather than her mother’s maiden name, the one Alison chose as her married name. She had to be more careful. It would
n’t do to associate herself with her dead brother, Bobby McGrath. Not until she discovered the truth about his death.

  “It’s wonderful to meet you. I’m Abigail Brandt. These are my friends, Rachel and Ginny Pelletier. We’d heard about the new owner and couldn’t wait any longer to meet you.” At that moment, the machine near the back caught Abby’s attention. “Oh my. Is that what I think it is?” She moved to it, reaching out to touch the contraption.

  “If you mean a sewing machine, then yes. I brought it with me from Kentucky.”

  “Rachel, have you ever seen one of these?” her sister-in-law, Ginny, asked.

  “I have. I don’t know how we would have fought the war without them.” Rachel turned toward Alison, seeing the young woman’s face pale. “I worked as a nurse in Union field hospitals during the war. Our soldiers would never have gotten uniforms without the factories using these machines.”

  “Yes, ma’am. My father fought for the North under General Benson. He died at the Battle of Richmond.”

  Rachel let out a sigh. “We lost many good men during the war.”

  “But it’s over now. Time to move on, right?” Abby said, trying to shift the mood. “Are you taking customers yet?”

  Alison shook off the memories of her father, wishing she could do the same when she thought of her brother.

  “Yes. What can I do for you?”

  An hour later, Alison watched the three women leave. She’d obtained orders for six dresses with hats to match, two apiece, and a promise to meet them for lunch in town the following Saturday. Lowering herself into a nearby chair, she held the order in her hand, still reeling from the changes in her life.

  Her father had died fighting for the North in August of 1862, leaving Alison, her mother, and younger brother, Bobby, to take care of their farm. While Bobby tended the animals, Alison and her mother had taken laundry and seamstress work to keep the family going. They all took care of the crops, although weather and marauding troops from both sides had done all in their power to take them under.