For 25-year-old Caleb McRae—devout Baptist, Texas Ranger, hero of the Wild West--life's simple enough: lawmen bring bad guys to justice, and hellfire's a sinner's fate. At least it seems that way, until he falls in love with the notorious outlaw, Henry Midnight...
Tom Anderson, Chief Editor of Literary Titan, writes that the Ballad of Midnight and McRae is "wildly entertaining. There are gunfights, stampedes, firestorms, and even a cougar that lets you suckle milk from her belly. Lederman throws curveballs and magic into the dust of the Old West, and it all works...a spiritual odyssey that spans decades, delving into themes of faith, justice, identity, and the mysteries of love and grace. It’s part Western, part myth, and entirely its own genre. A ballad in the truest sense, where history, theology, and folklore collide."
"Featuring star-crossed lovers, intense action, myth, and magic, The Ballad of Midnight & McRae enthralled me with vividly realized historical settings, clever, witty dialog, and cameos by underrepresented historical figures. Highly recommended!"
—Ami McConnell, founder of WriterFest Nashville and former Editor-in-Chief of Howard Books/Simon & Schuster
A BookLife "Editor's Choice"
For 25-year-old Caleb McRae—devout Baptist, Texas Ranger, hero of the Wild West--life's simple enough: lawmen bring bad guys to justice, and hellfire's a sinner's fate. At least it seems that way, until he falls in love with the notorious outlaw, Henry Midnight...
Tom Anderson, Chief Editor of Literary Titan, writes that the Ballad of Midnight and McRae is "wildly entertaining. There are gunfights, stampedes, firestorms, and even a cougar that lets you suckle milk from her belly. Lederman throws curveballs and magic into the dust of the Old West, and it all works...a spiritual odyssey that spans decades, delving into themes of faith, justice, identity, and the mysteries of love and grace. It’s part Western, part myth, and entirely its own genre. A ballad in the truest sense, where history, theology, and folklore collide."
"Featuring star-crossed lovers, intense action, myth, and magic, The Ballad of Midnight & McRae enthralled me with vividly realized historical settings, clever, witty dialog, and cameos by underrepresented historical figures. Highly recommended!"
—Ami McConnell, founder of WriterFest Nashville and former Editor-in-Chief of Howard Books/Simon & Schuster
A BookLife "Editor's Choice"
My father was one of the last great lawmen of the Wild West.
His name was Caleb McRae. He was born in 1876, a fair-haired child with eyes the clear cold blue of a mountain lake. The son of a Broad Street banker, he grew up in Greenwich, Connecticut on a sprawling estate, yet cared nothing for money or the shiny things it can buy.
Justice was his only passion.
He thrilled to read of Revelation’s hundred-pound hailstones raining down on sinners and devoured dime novels that told tales of the Texas Rangers. In his imagination it was he who collared John Wesley Hardin, the murderous outlaw, and Sam Bass, robber of coaches and trains.
As a young boy he learned to ride. He bought a six shooter when he turned thirteen and taught himself to blast tin cans off fence posts at fifty paces. He chopped cords of wood to build the muscles in his arms, and by fifteen was broad-shouldered and an inch over six feet tall. At seventeen he left his family’s Presbyterian church and became a Baptist, blithely ignoring his father’s stern warnings not to evangelize on the streets of downtown Greenwich.
One secret tormented him: he had no desire for girls and found his gaze lingering on other boys. Might he, of all people, be a pansy, a fairy, an affront to the Living God? No, impossible, the Lord must be testing his righteousness. All right, then; Caleb would not let Him down. And so, in a solitary ceremony late one midsummer’s eve, he knelt before a cross he’d fashioned from old railroad ties and vowed to renounce his sinful thoughts and wayward dreams.
In his eighteenth year he set out for the Lone Star State, delighted that his parents had cut him off without a dime. How much easier it would be to enter the Kingdom of Heaven!
He made his way to Austin, convinced the Rangers to let him sign on, and two years later was sent to the brawling boomtown of El Paso. The railroad had brought prosperity, and with it came gunfighters, gamblers, con artists, and thieves. Few lawmen lasted long.
For my father, it was perfect.
I keep a newspaper clipping on my writing desk, a black-and-white photograph that appeared in the El Paso Herald in December of 1898. Though its ostensible subject is a certain Mayor Magoffin, my father’s hulking image dominates the frame. He’s the only clean-shaven man in the picture, and his hair, while not long, is a leonine mass of what must have been golden curls. There’s a broad-brimmed Stetson in his left hand and a Winchester rifle in his right. He’s wearing an oilskin duster and has an air of regal authority that belies his twenty-two years.
Caleb McRae was fierce and fair and never backed down, and in a few short years led the taming of El Paso. By the turn of the century, his life had become routine. He put away garden-variety bad guys, became the youngest Elder of the First Baptist Church, and prayed for the chance to do something great for the glory of God.
***
In the spring of 1900, rumors spread of an outlaw who’d been plundering the Arizona and New Mexico Territories, rustling horses and cattle on both sides of the Rio Grande. His name was Henry Midnight, and his legend grew with each passing month. He was lean and lithe and wore his raven hair long like the Indians. He dressed in black and rode a pitch-dark Arabian stallion, the two mere phantoms of the night, invisible to lawmen’s eyes. Rumor had it he’d killed a man in Arizona and escaped from jail only hours before he was to be hanged; he’d become a jewel thief, snatching an emerald necklace from the night table of the mayor’s wife while she and her husband blissfully snored. The Tejanos, who’d gotten the short end since the Anglos came to El Paso, sung his praises. And if the Jesuits were especially generous in their provisions for the poor, it was thanks to the Midnight bandito donating the proceeds from his latest haul.
These stories, however fantastic, intrigued my father, the last most of all. What if the man were not entirely in thrall to Satan, what if there were hope for his soul? Caleb McRae of the Texas Rangers made two vows: he’d deliver Henry Midnight to justice and bring him to the Lord.
***
My father pinned a map of the El Paso Valley on his kitchen wall, marked the date and location of each of Midnight’s crimes, and by the summer of ’01 a pattern began to emerge. He devised a theory to predict where the rustler would strike next and for weeks led stakeouts, all to no avail. And then, on a moonless August night, as he peered out from a hill overlooking the back section of the Double-Bar Ranch, three figures on horseback appeared.
The capture would have been fast and smooth if his men had followed the plan he’d so carefully devised, but one of his deputies broke from cover too soon and their advantage was lost.
Midnight and his men fled, each in a different direction. My father had no doubt which was Henry, for the rumor that he rode a black Arabian proved to be true. The outlaw had a good half mile on him and was heading southeast, into the Chihuahuan desert. What had happened to the others my father had no idea; the chase had come down to just the two of them.
Hours went by, and a hint of dawn appeared on the eastern horizon. Where was Midnight leading him, and how long would this go on?
No matter.
He had his Winchester and his Colt 45, some hard biscuits and dried beef and a gallon canteen. Boaz, his Appaloosa, could keep up with anything on four legs. If he had to chase Midnight to the gates of hell, Caleb McRae would get his man.
He spurred his beast on.
I'm not sure where to start with this book because it isn't one thing. It's a mash-up of many things although that description, whilst it may be apt, does not do justice to the well-crafted, rich composition that this is from Lederman.
The title gives it away really: it's the love story of Midnight and McRae but it's not just that. The love that McRae and Midnight have for each other is the frame, a solid frame, on which everything else hangs. But more of that in a minute.
Our two main protagonists are a Texas Ranger, Caleb McRae, a staunch man of God whose destiny is to have his faith tested; and Henry Midnight, an outlaw, a renegade, wanted for robbery but is he really as dangerous as his reputation would have you think? Our narrator is Caleb's son whose story is also interwoven into this ballad, him having his own battles to fight, both familial and internal and it is through him that the truth of Caleb and Midlnight's history together is revealed.
And so unfolds a tale of the west with pursuit and capture and threat which makes it a book of adventure but this is more than shooters and jail cells. Lederman's characters are well drawn and Caleb and Henry are surrounded by a variety of folk who have their own battles and personalities, sharp shooting priests and knife wielding sisters to mention just two, and this makes for a novel that is multi-layered, dealing as it does with the folk who Henry and Caleb encounter and who make a difference in their lives, all the while fighting those who would oppress.
This is also quite a philosophical text in many ways. There is discussion through great characterisation and ensuing dialogue about faith and God and what exactly those things mean to people and how they are manifested in the world. This is especially true of Caleb whose existence is rocked when he meets Henry, and Caleb's aligning his love for God with his love for Henry is a battle which continues throughout the book. Caleb's assumptions are constantly challenged by the people he meets, from Indian tribes and Christian faith who do not fit the mould into which he believes you must fit.
And this is just part of it. There's mythical creatures, mysticism, war, loss and fights against bad guys too!
A great read.