Ruth Hanson

America, 1887. In a country healing from the horrors of the Civil War, the American West has never been more treacherous. Evil men do as they please, and the often faulty and corrupt justice system does little to nothing to help their victims. Enter the Railwalkers. Bandits whose only goal is to punish those whom the law has allowed to walk free. Some think they're an 28 legend, meant to scare would-be criminals into submission. Some see them as no different than the murderers they kill, while to others, they are angels of mercy. To Violet Donovan, they are family. Growing up as the sole heiress to the sizable Donovan estate, Violet's place of privilege allowed her wild spirit to flourish. Despite the pressures of her sex -- find a husband, stay pretty, have children, be subservient, don't speak out of line -- Violet is passionate, loud, stubborn, and untamed. However, at the ripe, marriageable age of twenty, Violet faces the fact that she may have to give in to her mother's wishes and marry mean, ugly Eustace Carpenter, the only other family name in their little town with comparable worth. But Violet's life changes forever when she is saved from an attacker by a strange woman. A woman who, like Violet, doesn't exactly fit the mold. Unfortunately Violet gets mixed up in a murder charge and has to leave everything she knows for a life on the run from the law. Through divine intervention, she and the woman cross paths again, and Violet comes to know her and her comrades. They are Mei Wong, Linus Cooper, Sitting Bear, and Rory McNab. The infamous Railwalker gang.

The Railwalkers

While Arnie helped himself to a seat and a shot of liquor, Violet stood in the center of the office, stiff and observant. “How long do I gotta stay here?” she asked, pointedly.


“Well, let’s see now…” Arnie swirled his shot glass before downing the whiskey. “I’d say them horses you stole—they’s at what? A hundred a head? Easy? Except the foal, probably.” He poured another shot and leaned back in his chair. “Not to mention a penalty for the crime itself. I’d say a fair price would be…$450?”


“Four hundred—?!” Violet paled, her voice cracking at the fine.


Arnie nodded, sipping his second glass of whiskey. “You want to avoid a trial and a five year prison sentence, I suggest you work that off here under Miss Bethany. What do you think a gal like her should charge, Miss Bethany?”


Chapter 115