Ark City
126 pages
English

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126 pages
English

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Description

Adventures of a western lawman, war hero, and his romantic sagas, triumphs and failures.
Jack Chaney was just eighteen when he first rode into Arkansas City, Kansas, at the dawn of the twentieth century as a cow hand on a cattle drive from Texas. Disenchanted with the life of a cowboy, he decided to stay in Ark City and seek his fortune there. What unwinds for Jack is a saga involving three marriages, two World Wars, a career as Chief of Police, and a life that spanned over a hundred years. A story of joy, heartbreak, lust, unparalleled heroics, and more ups and downs than a roller coaster.

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Informations

Publié par
Date de parution 19 juillet 2022
Nombre de lectures 0
EAN13 9781663242556
Langue English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0200€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Other books by Richard Haddock
Maggie Dayton (2001)
Best And Final Offer (BAFO) (2001)
Arkalalah (2002)
The Family (2002)
The Ninth Sabbat (2002)
The Man From Savannah (2005)
The Paper Route (2006)
Twilight’s Last Gleaming (2007)
Closing the Circle (2008)
Mohican (2011)
The Braddock Road Club (2013)
Lincoln, Rocky and Zeke (2016)
Nothing In Common But Life (2018)
The Artemis Conspiracy (2021)
ARK CITY
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
RICHARD HADDOCK
 
 
 
 

 
ARK CITY
 
 
Copyright © 2022 Richard Haddock.
 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
 
 
 
 
 
 
iUniverse
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Bloomington, IN 47403
www.iuniverse.com
844-349-9409
 
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
 
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
 
Cover photo by Marotta Studio
 
ISBN: 978-1-6632-4254-9 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-6632-4255-6 (e)
 
 
 
 
 
iUniverse rev. date:  07/18/2022
CONTENTS
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
 
Epilogue
Obituary
 
Dedicated To:
Bill Dickerman, Jr.
Rosemary Mavis
Jim Curtis
Gary Stephen
All The Fencils
Scootie & Jake
Raymond & Pinky
Aaron Bruce Smith
Mary June Lindley
The Ark City High School Class of 1962
1
T HE FIVE COWBOYS SAT AROUND the camp fire, their stomachs warm and full from dinner on the trail. Tomorrow was the last day of the drive, bringing payday and a couple of nights in civilization before the long trip back to San Antonio. Out in the stillness of what had only recently been Indian Territory, several hundred head of Longhorns were grazing, their last meal before their rendezvous with the slaughter house tomorrow.
Jack Chaney took a final sip of his coffee and tossed the remains onto the ground in front of him. He hung his tin cup in its designated place on the chuck wagon and stretched expansively. “Reckon it’s time to relieve Buck,” he said, referring to the cowboy who was currently riding watch over the herd.
“Hope that old coot is still awake,” the cook, Lefty Monroe said.
Another cowboy chuckled. “Hard to tell one way or the other with that old man,” he said.
“Ain’t that the damned truth,” Lefty replied, shaking his head. “Hope you don’t spend the rest of the night rounding up strays, Jack.”
“I don’t know why you signed that old fart on in the first place, Sarge,” the other cowboy said, spitting a stream of tobacco juice towards the fire.
Sarge Reynolds, the trail boss, said, “Cause even when Buck is asleep he’s twice as good at his job as you damned fools.”
Everyone laughed at the comment but Jack thought it was spot on from his observations. Seemed that Buck was always picking up the slack for the other hands. Jack wondered what the other cowboys said about him behind his back?
The other four men were all veteran cowboys while Jack was on his first drive. Being here just a few miles south of the Kansas border was as far north as he’d ever been in his life. This flat land of red clay, sagebrush and jack rabbits was the final home for various Indian tribes from the east, uprooted from their homelands and driven west years ago, many Cherokee and Choctaw dying along the infamous “trail of tears.” Originally designated “Indian Territory,” the area officially gave way to “Oklahoma”, a Choctaw combination of Okla and Humma, (Red People), when the area became the 46 th state in 1907. Jack had learned all this from Buck, who seemed to be chock full of facts and stories.
Jack mounted his horse and headed out into the darkness to relieve Buck. Despite the other hands’ view of Buck, Jack liked the old man. Over the past weeks they had enjoyed quite a few conversations and Jack had learned a great deal about driving cattle from a man who had done it his whole life. Buck was short in stature, with a barrel chest and a weathered complexion that reflected his years on the trail. Despite his stature Jack knew that the old man was strong as an ox. His snow white beard and the constant twinkle in his eye made him look like a cowboy version of Santa Claus to Jack. Add a dry sense of humor and a seemingly endless well of amusing stories and he had become Jack’s newest friend these past weeks.
The night was particularly dark, no moon, and Jack found Buck only by locating the orange glow of his cigar.
“How you be, Chaney?” the older man asked as Jack arrived at his side.
“Fair to middling.”
“What’s for supper?” Buck asked.
“Rabbit stew and biscuits.”
Buck grunted. “Again?”
Jack laughed. “Yeah, seems that once Lefty cooks something we gotta eat every scrap of it before he moves on to something new.”
“Don’t I know it.” Buck sighed and puffed on his cigar. “Well, you don’t get fat on a cow drive, son. You just hope you don’t die from the chow.”
Jack laughed again. He loved the old man’s sense of humor. “So, how many drives is this for you, Buck?”
The older man mumbled as he counted to himself. Finally, he gave up on an accurate number. “Too many to count,” he announced dryly.
“That’s a lot of cattle,” Jack observed.
“Reckon it is,” Buck offered. “So, why did you sign on?” he asked. “It can’t be for the money.”
Jack considered the question, decided he knew this man well enough to be honest with him. “Guess you could say I’m running away from home.”
“Things that bad?”
Jack sighed. “The old man’s a mean drunk and he’s drunk most of the time.”
“Yeah, I had one of them too,” Buck confessed. The herd moved slowly in the dark, trying to find some fresh grass for dinner. “I hear you was born in a whore house,” Buck added in his matter-of-fact manner.
Jack frowned in the dark. He had lived his whole life with this less-than-flattering knowledge, knew that his mother had given him to the Preacher Chaney and his wife when Jack was two years old. When Preacher Chaney’s wife later died of the cholera, the man of god took to drinking and taking his grief out on Jack. “That’s what they tell me,” Jack said with a sigh.
Buck turned in his saddle to face the younger man. “Didn’t mean to rile you up, Chaney, just wanted to clear up the gossip I’ve heard.”
“Nothing like being direct, Buck. I’ve learned to accept the facts.”
“It takes a man with gumption to admit such things,” Buck said.
Jack nodded, not exactly sure what gumption meant. At six two Jack towered over the other cowboys, his dark, high-cheeked complexion reflecting a possible Indian heritage, but his clear blue eyes hinted at a “half breed” lineage, not an unusual trait for many in these parts. His handsome clean-shaven face was topped by a thick head of black hair that sat atop a lean, muscular body. “What other parts of the gossip you want to clear up?” he asked.
Buck appeared to have a list from his prompt response. “You nineteen or twenty?”
“Eighteen.”
“You still a virgin?”
“Jesus, Buck. Ain’t that a little personal?”
“Well?”
Jack paused, tried to determine whether the truth would fare better or worse than a lie. “Yes,” he said with a sigh of exasperation.
“Nothing to be ashamed of. At your age the chances are about fifty-fifty one way or the other so I was just taking an educated guess. Anyway, we all been in that state at one time. If you’d like I’ll take care of that for you when we get to Ark City. They got some pretty handsome women there as I recall.”
“Seems to me that’s something a man needs to take care of by himself,” Jack offered.
“Just offering to lend a hand.”
“With respect, I’d appreciate it if you kept your hands to yourself in such matters,” Jack replied as they both laughed. “So, what else does Ark City have to offer?”
“Couple of good bars, two clean hotels, a pool hall and plenty of churches if they hold any interest for you.”
“No churches for me. I just have a hankering for a hot bath and a lot of cold beer,” Jack said. “How long we going to be staying?”
“Believe Sarge only wants to stay a few days. He’s got an itch to get back to San Anton’ as soon as he can.”
“Got a family there does he?”
“Most likely got another herd to drive.”
Jack winced at the thought. “Can I tell you something, Buck?”
“Shoot, kid.”
“This job ain’t exactly what I thought it would be. Not that I’m afraid of hard work in all kinds of weather, but, well, this may be my first and only cattle drive.”
“Can’t blame you for that attitude, but what the hell else you gonna do?”
“I was hoping there’d be some prospects in Ark City.”
“I’m sure there are, but finding something to your liking might be a little tough. What suits your fancy?”
Jack shook his head. “It makes me no never mind, but herding cattle sure ain’t it.”
Buck nodded in the dark. “Well, cattle drives is all I’ve ever known in my nearly

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