A fugitive is trapped between a rock and a hard place in this action packed Western from Charles G. West. On the run for a murder he didn’t commit, Matt Slaughter is lying low in the badlands with a new life, and a new woman. But old troubles are right behind him: her name is P.D. Wildmoon, a hard-drinking bounty huntress armed with a .44, a rawhide horsewhip, and three wild-eyed sons bred to kill. Their job? Bring Slaughter back to Virginia—dead or alive. Making matters worse is a Sioux war that has Slaughter caught between the vengeance of a hostile tribe and the blind greed of a gun-crazy mother who’s blocking his only way out. But for Slaughter, there’s even more at stake. By his side is Molly, the vulnerable love of his life. And she’s just the pretty little tool Wildmoon and her killer brood need for hitting Slaughter straight through the heart. PRAISE FOR THE NOVELS OF CHARLES G. WEST “Rarely has an author painted the great American West in strokes so bold, vivid, and true.”—Ralph Compton Charles G. West is the author of Wrath of the Savage and many other Western novels. His fascination with and respect for the pioneers who braved the wild frontier of the great American West inspire him to devote his full time to writing historical fiction. CORNERED MAN It would have been the easiest thing to simply put a bullet in Matt Slaughter’s back. P. D. would have preferred to do it that way, but Mathis had offered an extra two hundred and fifty dollars if Slaughter was brought back to stand trial. “Slaughter!” P. D. called out. “If you leave that rifle . . . and come out peaceful-like, we won’t kill you.” “Where’s Molly?” “I got her safe and sound, waitin’ for you.” “Who the hell are you?” Matt asked. “I’m the one come to take you back to Virginia. I always get who I go after. The only choice you have to make is whether you go back sittin’ in the saddle or belly-down across it.” “If you show me the girl, I’ll come out.” “Dammit, I told you she ain’t here,” P. D. replied heatedly. I shoulda just shot him in the leg while I had the chance. “I ain’t got all day. You come on outta there now, or I’m gonna hafta burn you out.” “I reckon you’re gonna have to come and get me. VENGEANCE MOON Charles G. West Table of Contents Chapter 1 All he had was a name, P. D. Wildmoon, and a post office box where this person might be reached in Cheyenne, Dakota Territory. Jonathan Mathis was aware that the person he traveled to meet recognized no line between lawful and lawless activity. This fact did not overly concern him, for as a successful criminal attorney in Springfield, Missouri, he had dealt with any number of men of the most evil convictions. Two years of frustrating dealings with regional provost marshals in Virginia and the Dakota Territory had hammered home one cold, hard fact that Jonathan Mathis could not accept. As far as the army was concerned, Matthew Scott Slaughter was going to get away with the murder of Jonathan’s brother. The thought of his brother’s murder brought the bitter taste of bile to his throat. He had been duly proud of his younger brother’s successful rise to the rank of captain in the Union Army. His death had been hard to accept. Harvey had survived two years in the war only to lose his life after the fighting was over—murdered by a wild young Rebel over a land dispute. Especially galling was the army’s seeming disinterest after this man, Slaughter, fled to the West. To add to his frustration with the army’s incompetence, Mathis had learned that the fugitive had actually been in custody in the post hospital at Fort Laramie, and was allowed to escape. Nothing more had been seen or heard of Slaughter for over a year, but Mathis refused to abandon his quest for justice for the murder of his only brother. Riding now on the train as it pulled into the newly built station in Cheyenne, he took out a piece of paper, unfolded it, and stared again at the name at the bottom. P. D. Wildmoon it was signed, at the end of a short, childish scrawl that informed him that the sender of the letter would be in Shianne on the fifteenth of the month and could be reached at Cassidy’s Saloon. Mathis could only imagine the manner of man he was on his way to meet. He knew nothing about him other than the fact that Wildmoon was a name well-known in the murky shadows outside the law, in the dark world of bushwhackers and bounty hunters. The name had been given to him by a sympathetic lieutenant in the regional provost marshal’s office in Omaha, along with a word of caution. “Don’t say I gave you the name,” he had said. “There’s not much difference between Wildmoon and an outlaw. But if you’ve got any chance of finding Slaughter in that country out there, Wildmoon’s your best bet.” Mathis remained seated until the train rolled to a complete stop. He gazed out the window at the sprawling town created by the arrival of the Union Pacific Railroad. He was a day early for his appointment with P. D. Wildmoon and, from