Stolen
Dreams
By: Lynn Landes
By:
Lynn Landes
Published by:
Landes Publishing
Edited by:
Shane Landes
Cover art by:
www.roseannawhitedesigns.com
This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, and events portrayed in this novel are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2018 by Lynn Landes
http://[email protected]/
All rights reserved.
Other titles by Lynn Landes:
Dust & Dreams
Perilous Dreams
The Angels Covenant
Covenant Breakers
Blood Covenant
Fae Queen
Shadow King
Serenity’s Song
Arctic Moon
Chapter 1
Chase slows his mount down with a soft tug on the reigns and stares around the valley laid out before him. The light breeze seems to whisper, "Welcome home," as it blows by him stirring the wildflowers beside the rocky trail. Wyoming calls to his soul. It's in the deep blue color of the sky, and the rolling hills that greet him in vivid shades of green with explosions of vibrantly colored wildflowers. It's in the jagged snow-capped mountains and lush, grassy plains with blue rivers twisting and turning through the land. Overhead, a hawk soars in the afternoon sun, beckoning him home.
“Soon,” he whispers and kicks his horse into a slow trot down the narrow trail towards the town in the valley below. When he reaches the bottom of the trail, the path turns into a road wide enough for wagon traffic. Loaded wagons, carts and other people on horseback pass him as he turns towards the busy street heading into town. Chase smiles to himself as the familiar smells and sounds greet him while he rides slowly into the outskirts of the town he grew up in. ‘Thankfully somethings don't change,' he thinks to himself as he trots up in front of the Sheriff's office. A final look around at the surrounding buildings has him swinging his leg off of his horse and stepping down to the hard-packed street. His horse paws at the dirt and nudges his shoulder as he ties the reigns off to the hitching post. Chase pats the solid muscle of his companion's neck, "It's fine. I'll be right back, and we'll get you some fresh water and feed."
Sheriff Cleveland Howe steps onto the covered porch of his office and welcomes Chase with a friendly wave. “Chase Rivers, I’ll be damned. Thought you might have got yourself killed already,” he teases and shakes Chase’s hand in a strong welcome.
“Not yet, Cleve. Just checking in before I head out to the ranch.” He smiles enjoying the warm welcome. Every dust covered bone in his twenty-seven-year-old body is sore from the long ride.
"Six months is a long time to be gone, Chase," his old friend states and turns to walk back inside the old office. At a stained solid wood desk, he gathers up some papers and turns to look at Chase. "Guess those bank robbers didn't just give up peacefully."
Chase smirks shaking his head, “Nope, they chose a box instead. Matters little to me, I get paid either way.”
Cleve laughs and hands a stack of wanted posters to his friend. "U.S. Marshall's pay must be good to keep you from home so long, but we're glad to have you back in one piece. Give these a look over before you go. You can have the first pick if you want." Twisting his black handlebar mustache, he looks the young man over thoughtfully.
Chase glances through the five wanted posters making a note of the faces and rewards, but he's not here to work. A shake of his head answers the Sheriffs look as he hands back the posters. "I appreciate the offer, but I've earned a break, and I mean to take it this time."
"I understand."
"Of course, if you need me, you know where to find me," The Sheriff laughter follows him out the door.
"Safe travels, Chase."
‘Time for a drink,' he thinks stepping out into the bright morning sun. Chase walks his horse to the corral at the end of the street and tips the boy one silver dollar to feed and brush down his old friend. The Dusty Boot Saloon is a short stroll from there. As he walks through town, people wave, and he dodges wagons and grins with pride at the town. His brother Dalton Rivers fought hard to bring a railroad depot through town, and it has changed things for the better.
It's early yet, and that means the saloon won't be too busy. Chase stomps his boots and knocks off the debris from his long canvas duster before he pushes through the swinging doors. He notices a card game starting in the corner with a group of four men. From the looks of it, the game is a serious one with cash on the table. His eyes track around the smoky room to look for familiar faces in the sun filtering in from the front windows. Chase almost stops when he recognizes an outlaw from one of the wanted posters in the Sheriff’s office.
‘Damn,’ he thinks. It’s Silvino Del Pozo, Bandito Supreme, sitting at that table. He’s talking intently with two other men. Chase continues to the bar and orders a whiskey, not letting on that Del Pozo has been made,
“Welcome home, Chase.” Roy smiles and slides an old bottle to his friend.
“Thanks, Roy. Business been good?” Chase shoots the drink savoring the burn in his chest and pours a second one. He watches Del Pozo from the reflection in the mirrors behind the bar.
“Yep, better than ever.”
Chase turns slightly to watch the card game in progress.
“How long you in town for, this time, Chase?” Roy continues wiping down the bar top he smiles at Addie as she sidles up
