His Brother's Wife
Accused of a crime he did not commit, William McIntyre flees to his brother’s isolated ranch and meets his sister-in-law Mattie. She leads a life of servitude under the iron fist of his cruel identical twin, Wilbur.
When Wilbur is accidentally killed, William takes on his brother’s identity to save both himself and Mattie from the hangman. Will their desperate plan succeed?
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Excerpt
Chapter One
South Dakota 1870’s
William McIntyre dismounted from his horse and inspected the ground. “They passed through here, Sheriff.”
“You sure, Will? I can’t see nothing but dust.”
“Yeah, the signs are clear, the hoof prints have been all but blown away, but the horse dung is fresh.” He pointed to the long swaying grass along the track. “See how the grass is slightly flattened. They’re heading for the Black Hills.”
Will sighed, he didn’t really want to be here, but the Sheriff had deputized him and made up a posse to search for the Denzil gang. The extra money would come in handy right now.
Abe Denzil was a callous killer. Half Sioux and half loco. He was brutal and depraved.
The hair stood up on the back of Will’s neck, nausea rose up into his throat every time he thought of the massacre at the Rainer’s Crossing stage depot. Thirty people killed, the men tortured, the women raped and six children butchered. Even the tough stage driver who came across the grisly slaughter vomited with revulsion.
He didn’t like leaving Anna and his young daughters on the ranch alone, not with such a brutal band of killers on the loose. Why had Denzil and his cut-throats crossed over to this side of the Black Hills? Thankfully, his ranch was in the opposite direction.
They followed the almost indiscernible trail for miles. Hour after hour with the terrain becoming rockier, more desolate as they climbed higher.
Will wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of one hand and took a swig from his water bottle. They would have to call a halt soon, the horses needed to rest and it was too dangerous to continue once night fell. One slip on the narrow, winding path and they would be killed. One misplaced footfall and they could plummet over the side to the canyon floor, three hundred feet or more below.
He had done surveying work for the army when he first arrived here and knew the area well. He’d jumped ship in New York, after seeing a sailor flogged. This barbaric episode had caused him to lose his appetite to sail the world.
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