When Hell Came to Texas

Product Description
From an award-winning bestselling author comes a classic, action-packed western novel surrounding the arrival of a stranger in a small Texas town after the Civil War—and the trouble that follows him.


DEVIL IN DISGUISE? In the days after the Civil War, a solitary rider travelled the open frontier—but he wasn’t alone, for Death seemed to travel with him. Or maybe it was the Devil himself who gave him the lethal pistol shot that earned him the name “Death’s Acolyte.” And when the stranger with the scarred face, who calls himself Ken Casey, rode into the peaceful Texas town of Wardell, maybe peace—for his own ravaged soul—was all he wanted. But in Wardell, all hell is about to break loose.

OR SAVIOR ON HORSEBACK?

Awaiting a train shipment of gold, Angus Pugh and his army of outlaws, including notorious gunslinger Luke Draco, take the town hostage and kill a few innocent citizens as a lesson to any comers. Donning priestly vestments, Ken Casey, ordained man of the cloth, steps from the shadows to conduct the victims’ funeral rites—and that’s just his first revelation. For Casey can destroy souls as easily as he saves them, and earthly justice is delivered in gun smoke and blood.
About the Author
Using his own name and several pseudonyms,
Robert Vaughan has made multiple appearances on the
New York Times and
USA TODAY bestseller lists. He has won numerous awards, including the SPUR award for best Novel of the West for
Survival.  Vaughan was inducted into Writers’ Hall of Fame and received the Readwest President’s Award for Excellence in Western Fiction. A decorated and retired army officer with three tours in Vietnam, Vaughan lives on the beach in Gulf Shores, Alabama.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
When Hell Came to Texas

CHAPTER ONE



APRIL 23, 1853

WHISTLER, TEXAS

Coy Axton owned Twin Hills Ranch, and Darren Walker owned the adjacent ranch, which he called Doubletree. They were good friends who often ran their cattle together, as they were able to tell which cow belonged to which rancher both by mutual trust and by their brands. When a cougar took down a couple of steers, the ranchers sent their two sons, Ded Axton and Nate Walker, out to track down and kill the cat.

Ded and Nate were only fifteen years old, but they were both big for their age, and both had done a man’s work for the last three years. Good friends, they were also competitive, often engaging in shooting contests, riding contests, and foot races. Despite their competitiveness, there had never been a fight between them.

The two boys, carrying food enough for three days, set out in search of the cougar. They lost the trail just before dark on the first night, but picked it up again in the morning. They had been taking turns riding in the lead, and for the moment Nate was in front, following the fresh tracks. Nate held up his hand calling for a stop, then dismounted and examined something on the ground. He looked back with a big smile.

“We’re real close,” he said. “He just took a shit and it’s still soft.”

As Nate was delivering his report, Ded saw the big cat creep out onto a flat rock about ten feet above Nate’s head. The cougar was getting ready to leap.

“Nate, look out!” Ded shouted. He had been holding his rifle across the saddle in front of him; fortunately, the gun was primed and loaded. He raised the rifle to his shoulder and fired just as the cougar leaped.

“Ahh!” Nate called out as the cat landed on him. “Get him off, get him off!”

Ded dismounted and, pulling his pistol, started toward the struggling Nate. Then, before he reached him, he was surprised to hear Nate laughing.

“Nate!”

Nate rolled out from under the cat, then stood up. There wasn’t a scratch on him. The cougar was still on the ground, not moving.

“Are you all right?” Ded asked.

“Yeah,” Nate said. “You hit him plumb center. He’s dead. He was dead when he fell on me.”

“You scared me to death,” Ded said