Lieutenant Elkanah Rhyolite is content serving in the U.S. Army in the 1880’s when he is unexpectedly discharged from his honorable position as a respected officer. Unsure of what he should do now, the journey unfolds for the young man as he begins to dream mysteriously, with a divine encounter challenging him to follow a new vision. Encountering love, betrayal, animosity, forgiveness, corruption, and following hope through life-threatening situations, he may find more than he expected. Now on a journey driven and by his faith, and filled with new faces and friendships, Lieutenant Rhyolite will gain an experience that will shape the rest of his life deeper than he'd ever imagined.
Lieutenant Elkanah Rhyolite is content serving in the U.S. Army in the 1880’s when he is unexpectedly discharged from his honorable position as a respected officer. Unsure of what he should do now, the journey unfolds for the young man as he begins to dream mysteriously, with a divine encounter challenging him to follow a new vision. Encountering love, betrayal, animosity, forgiveness, corruption, and following hope through life-threatening situations, he may find more than he expected. Now on a journey driven and by his faith, and filled with new faces and friendships, Lieutenant Rhyolite will gain an experience that will shape the rest of his life deeper than he'd ever imagined.
Springtime 1884
New Mexico
“The plains of New Mexico can sure be bitter cold at night.” Tarryall mumbled after a long night huddled by the campfire. He slipped on his boots, checking for any rattlesnakes and uttered, “Sure is good to see the sun again.” as he let out a long and satisfying stretch, undoing the deeds of a cold hard desert ground. As he gathered up his things and swiftly dusted the fire with dirt from the ground, Tarryall began to ponder what the day might bring. Thinking to himself, he spoke out loud. “It's sure been a long journey from Deadwood, and there is no way I'm going back anytime soon. Better check ma' bullets. I'm hitting town today, I needs a hot bath and a drink. It's been a spell since I had either.”
Tarryall always wore the same clothes. He had only one set with him at all times and when a shirt faded or a pair of boots wore out, he always found an exact replacement at the general store. He always wore a black flat-rimmed hat, white sash around his waist, a buttoned down black shirt with long sleeves, black leather gloves, a black leather belt with seven worn notches, black slacks with white stripes tailored down the legs and black leather boots. He also carried two silver .44 six-shooters with pearl handles attached to holsters with the initials TNT stitched in white and a lever-action rifle slung across his back.
Fighting the constant glare of the blinding sun, Tarryall had been walking on this journey for several months, going from town to town in search of the next big adventure. It wasn't until he headed into a small town in New Mexico called Canteen that some interesting and very appealing news led to the next piece of the journey for Tarryall.
Reaching into his pocket, Tarryall casually retrieved a folded article from the Canteen periodical he’d found stuck to a tumbleweed. That tumbleweed had conveniently positioned itself next to an outhouse he had used several months ago while visiting the town. The single sheet from the article had begun to wear, as this was his eighth or ninth time reading it aloud to himself as he walked across the long and lonely dirt landscape.
The sound of the wind rustling the paper accompanied his voice as Tarryall read aloud while walking with a slight limp from his right knee. “The noon day sun was always spoken about as the true killer in the beginning days of the lawless gunslingers. A man would either find death following a glistening mirage, the hot dry air as the heat waves sucked the water from yer bones or by another man's quick shot. Some of the deadliest spots are known to be among the deserts of New Mexico, Arizona, Southwestern Colorado, Utah and the Southern Texas territory. Among these many places one of the most sought out territories is in the land of Colorado, in a town known as Rio.
“Rio is known for its geographical location. This little town has a river that runs along the Colorado/Utah Territory border coming from the north via the Black Powder Falls, flowing near the western border, then slowly disappearing into the south by splitting at the South Corner Fork into New Mexico and Arizona. In the fall, the locals love to visit the river as the trees turn bright red and can be seen for miles. The locals have named the river "The Mighty Maple", which has become very popular and was entered into the town records as the official name for the river. Paralleling the river is the railroad, named “El Arce Rojo” Railroad. It was christened as “The Red Maple Railroad” for having been built near a large open patch of clustered Rocky Mountain Maple trees. Rio is known as a westerner retirement town where many folks build their homestead without any plans to relocate. If ye are looking to find a new town to call home, make yer way to southwest Colorado, near the Utah border.”
Tarryall paused shortly and gathered his thoughts as he pondered the long trip from the Southern Dakota Territory, to the moment he found the article in Canteen. “Printed on this day of April 7 1884.” Tarryall mumbled. “Pfft, I musta been walking through New Mexico longer than that.” He gently folded the article and slipped it back into his shirt pocket as he asked himself, “It's been....what six days since I picked up this ratty thing?” Tarryall shook his head and continued along as he began to see the upcoming glimmer of Rio in the distance. Walking through the noonday heat into Rio, Tarryall grumbled saying aloud “I ain't never been this thirsty! I must be crazy to let ma'self get this far without a proper drink. Ain't no way I gots this thirsty...ain't no way. I guess'n that's why they say only donkeys and gringos walk in the noonday sun. Pfft. I ain't no donkey.”
Rio seemed to be busy on this day as many townsfolk were walking along the streets attending to their own business. Tarryall glanced casually among the people but didn't really notice anyone in particular that stood out at first. Hoof beats, common chatter and swinging storefront doors could be heard in the distance. He paused and glanced up at the town threshold arch and slowly read three large letters spelling “-RIO-”
Adjusting his belt, Tarryall made his way into the saloon and sat on the nearest stool to the door, shouting to the man behind the bar. “Barkeep! I can't take it no more...fix me up!”
The barkeeper was an honest fellow named Whimsey Bilton who took over the saloon from his father at a very young age. Whimsey ran the Rio saloon on the weekends and took the rest of the week to help his sick father also run the Rio general store. As Tarryall sat down, Whimsey took a long look at him. The first thing he noticed about Tarryall was his disfigured face. The man had multiple scars and burn marks across his face and Tarryall’s eyes had the appearance of being mostly closed, due to the way his skin healed after the damage. Whimsey slowly poured Tarryall a drink of whiskey, “You don't look so good, friend. Town doc can fix ya' up if your pocketbook ain't as dry as you.”
Tarryall reached down and drank his shot, “I don't need no yellow-belly soda jerk looking at ma' figure. I can go to Frisco for that anytime! Hah!”
Whimsey answered with a scoff, “If it suits ya,” and slowly turned around, walking away with the half-empty whiskey bottle in his hand.
The saloon was moderately occupied today with a few folks enjoying their own business in the back corner and a few innocent, lonely souls at the bar enjoying stiff drinks.
Suddenly, three rough and tough looking men made a ruckus strolling into the saloon, flashing their pistols and demanding a drink from the barkeep. Saxby Yetter was the leader of the gang, accompanied by two of his outlaws, each wearing a purple sash tied around their hats. Saxby sat down first, four stools from Tarryall.
Saxby raised his glass into the air and said, “Fine day for a drink, eh boys?”
The outlaws laughed and hollered.
Other than the noise from the outlaws, the saloon was uncomfortably silent due to Saxby’s presence. Saxby, still holding his glass in the air, slowly turned and glanced at Tarryall. Saxby stared into the eyes of Tarryall, studying him intensely without moving. Tarryall returned the long stare into the gang leader's eyes. The saloon grew even more uncomfortable. Soon you could cut the silence with a knife.
Whimsey approached the counter with his hands slightly raised as an offer of peace and said aloud, “Now gents, I don’t want no trouble in my fine place of business.”
Saxby spoke to Whimsey loudly without diverting his focus from Tarryall, “Then keep your mouth shut, fool.” Saxby broke his deep stare and drank his shot, slammed the glass on the bar table, and glanced towards Tarryall again. “Now there's a fellow that could use a drink.” Saxby turned to his closest outlaw, “Doesn't he look like he needs a drink?”
The outlaw nodded in Tarryall's direction and mumbled, “And a woman and a tailor to boot! Hah!” The outlaw glanced down at his own ragged clothing, grew rather embarrassed and nervously started for the bar to acquire a drink.
Saxby shouted with a loud voice, “Barkeep! That rough looking fellow is drinking his next one on me!”
Tarryall with a quiet and rough voice replied, “Thank ye.”
A few minutes passed when the three outlaws finished their drinks in silence and decided to leave. Saxby shouted again to Whimsey, “Hey barkeep! Who's your favorite girl in town? I come from the old states and needs a little entertainment for me and the boys.” He smiled and continued, “I needs a special tendering to!”
The outlaws both smiled and nodded in agreement.
Whimsey looked nervously back and forth from Saxby and the two outlaws and muttered, “ I... I don't reckon I know any nice girls. Oh, but Miss Annabeth Bennett is a nice young gal. She's a teller over at the bank. She’s a regular at the town church too.”
Leaning forward, Saxby slapped Whimsey across the face and shouted, “Fool. Not interested in nice church girls, barkeep!”
Whimsey, scared and not knowing what to say, nervously replied, “Oh, but you want entertainment...I tell you what, head on over to the county jail and ask Sheriff Jefferson. He should have your answer for you, as I do not participate in that type of thing these days... Doc's request.”
Shaking his head with a quick chuckle, Saxby smiled. “You sound like a pansy to me. You from Frisco? Cause I'm insulted.” Saxby leaned in closer to Whimsey, his foul breath tickling the barkeep’s nose. “You thinking I'm going to march into the lockup to ask some pansy with a badge about entertainment?” A long pause passed by as he looked around the room, grinning. “You must be from Frisco!” Saxby gently adjusted his shirt, cleared his throat and set his guns on the bar counter. “I tell you what I do with whiskey-jockeys that insult me...such as yourself, a minute ago.”
A very uncomfortable moment passed as Whimsey grew even more nervous, “Oh?”
Saxby turned around and looked at each outlaw, “What'm I gonna do, boys?”
One outlaw opened his mouth but said nothing, as Saxby raised his left hand to the outlaw to stop him from speaking. Saxby looked back at Whimsey. With a long pause, the other patrons of the saloon watched, some with a stare, some pretending not to. Regardless, the room filled with suspense. There was a creak as someone quickly left.
Saxby replied in a slow, drawn out tone, “I'm gonna...put my guns away and take your advice!” He quickly stood up, put his guns away, smacked the bar and grabbed the left cheek of Whimsey. Lightly tapping his face he hastily made his way out of the saloon chuckling along the way.
With much relief, Whimsey slumped back into the corner of his bar and looked up then sighed at Tarryall, who had paid no attention to the near confrontation during the last few moments. “Boy, he sure is meaner than a rattler,” said Whimsey as he poured another drink for Tarryall and then began to clean a shot glass. “What'd you make of all that?”
Tarryall kicked back his head as he finished his whiskey, “Ye got off easy. I know'd him. He goes by the name of Saxby Yetter... The most evil man I’ve ever met. He’s the leader of a band of outlaws from the east.”
Whimsey, a bit puzzled, “Oh? You know'd him? Whatchu doing here pal? Where you from?” Staring into his empty glass, Tarryall replied, “Sir, I be from everywheres and from nowheres. Some might say I came out west to make ma' fortune. Some might ask, “Has the gold cluttered yer mind?” I say, be careful cause when that gold bug bites, it sure can be fatal. They also might say I intend on dying a rich man.”
Listening, Whimsey stared at the counter, even more puzzled, “Well…why's he here you reckon? Saxby, I mean.”
Tarryall looked at Whimsey, “Don't quite know. 'Cept he's mastered the art of widow and orphan making. Seems to be his primary profession now.” He tilted his glass back and finished the last few drops. “Can't be good though.”
Whimsey replied with a more intense puzzled look and short pause. “Ain't you just got here?”
Tarryall replied, “Ye ask too many questions, good sir.” He continued in a sarcastic manner, “I'm here for a drink.” He lightly chuckled and rose from his stool. He then generated a long yawn, a stretch, dusted himself off, tipped his hat towards Whimsey and said, “Name's Tarryall. I go by TNT... initials the gold miners gave me. We'll be seeing more of each other, 'keep. I get thirsty quite often.” He retrieved a few coins from the front pocket of his black slacks and flipped them through the air towards Whimsey. The worn coins landed onto the stained surface of the old wooden bar and before they finished clinging and spinning in a circle, Tarryall made his exit from the saloon.
Elkanah Rhyolite is running from his past. The young lieutenant has been unexpectedly separated from his calvary battalion with the U.S. Army. Adrift, Elkanah heads to Boston pondering his purpose in life. Where to go? What to do? Who to love? Are all pondered in Seth Barber’s high-octane Western set in 19th century America.
Dejection and discouragement stalk the young lieutenant. His mother was an alcoholic. His father left when Elkanah was a child. The boy was raised by his aunt and uncle. Fleeing his broken past, Elkanah enlists in the army at age seventeen. But recently discharged from the army and the life he loves, Elkanah is disillusioned and disheartened.
While stocking up on supplies, a store owner gives Elkanah a Bible. Elkanah passes it on to a “Commoner” he meets later at a saloon poker table, Jasper Cole. Elkanah leaves town and heads west. Rummaging through his rucksack, Elkanah discovers a single detached page from the Bible he gave away. It’s Psalm 91 (that's a really good one, in case you’re wondering.)
Roaming the forests of Virginia a few months later, Elkanah meets up with Jasper Cole again. They decide to head west together. But Jasper is running from his past, too. Or more specifically, Jasper’s running from Saxby Yetter, “the most powerful marauder of the West.” You so don’t want to cross this guy. Not even unwittingly. But that’s exactly what Jasper does.
When Elkanah finds a small news article later, it has the word “RIO” written across the top of the page. Elkanah decides his destiny is taking him to the small town in southwest Colorado.
A parallel storyline featuring Tarryall Newton Thompson (“TNT”) soon wends its way into the plot. (“TNT” has more than one meaning in this story.) Turns out TNT has a history with Saxby, too. A dangerous one. TNT’s story arc glides into Elkanah’s later.
Meanwhile, Elkanah and Jasper head to Kansas City, Kansas in search of wives. Elkanah is smitten by an Irish beauty and actress named Bridget. But when Jasper puts the moves on Bridget and she responds, Elkanah calls it quits.
Feeling betrayed and back-stabbed by his best friend, Elkanah in bent on vengeance. His “insides are an upside-down twisted mess.” The lieutenant returns to Rio alone, desolate and heartbroken.
Elkanah soon meets Fishing Bear, warrior of the Wakotee tribe. They return to Fishing Bear’s village and meet Fishing Bear’s father, Chief Red Bear. When the Chief says he has seen the lieutenant in his dreams, Elkanah is astonished. (Dreams figure prominently in this story.) The Chief interprets Elkanah’s dreams, Joseph-like, and reveal some things Elkanah doesn’t want to hear about loss and loyalty. Red Bear also reveals that Elkanah has appeared in his dreams, too. “You have come to us with purpose,” says the Chief. “Time will show us what that purpose is.”
Unknown to Elkanah, Jasper has his own secrets. And so does Bridget. It turns out she’s the daughter of… Oh, wait. You’ll have to read the book yourself to find out more. And what about Miss Annabeth?
The action thunders to a crescendo in scenes reminiscent of Shootout at the O.K. Corral as Elkanah must choose between the Impossible and the Unthinkable.
It would be easy to write a simple “horse opera” adventure set in the Old West, peppered with plenty of outlaws, double-crosses, and romance. But RIO delves deeper into the heart and soul of its main character. We see Elkanah confused and frustrated. Angry and bitter. Hope-filled and buoyant. Feeling abandoned and betrayed. We watch him wrestle with his conscience, unsure of his next steps. A dynamic and full-bodied character, Elkanah stretches, struggles, and grows page by page in this fascinating and fast-paced read.
Packed with action and adventure, RIO also features memorable characters with rich and vibrant back stories in this fresh and uplifting faith-flavored story.
Descriptions of life on the Great Plains of the Midwest in the late 19th century are also top-notch. The terrain, culture, flora, fauna, and history of the period are skillfully interwoven into the engaging plot. The story takes a little time to get rolling. But once it does, it gathers steam as fast as a runaway rail car (you’ll get that if you read the book).
Scene stealer: Rhyolite the horse.
Occasional typos occur, such as “the cavalry battalion was abruptly awoken” or, “I’m gonna reign hell on his head.” But these are few and don’t derail the overall read.
RIO would benefit from a little more polish. But this is a fun read that’s full of surprises! Just about the time you think you know where the story is going… U-turn! It includes an I-did-not-see-that-coming ending.
Fans of Zane Grey and Louis Lamour will enjoy this fast-paced, action-packed Western that’s gently faith-flavored. I read it cover-to-cover in one sitting and LOVED it!