Story

(Colorado, Circa 1880)   Joe Boldt is a young man who, in trying to run away from his problems, ends up running into more of them at every turn. In spite of efforts to do the right thing, he finds himself in ever deeper trouble, until a fatal shooting sends him fleeing for his life from the man he once trusted above his own father.  During his journey of flight and self-discovery, he must find the faith and courage to confront his mistakes, learning that true freedom lies only in facing his enemies and bearing the consequences of his actions—no matter what the cost. 

      “O Lord my God, if I have done this, If there is injustice in my hands,…Let the enemy pursue my soul and overtake it….And lay my glory in the dust.” [Ps. 7: 3-5] 

      Growing up in Colorado in the late 1800s, Joe Boldt is a hardworking young man whose fervent desire is to work as a deputy sheriff under his best friend’s father, Bill Buckner, a well-respected lawman from Colorado Springs.  On the eve of his deputization, Joe’s world falls apart, as he is drawn first into a fist fight with his drunken father and then into a gunfight with a former classmate, firing the shot that shatters his dream of greatness and sends him into the hills as a fugitive. 

He quickly learns that the options are limited for a man on the run, as he struggles to find honest work.  An older rancher takes him under his wing, and Joe is deceived into thinking he is on a routine cattle drive, when he is in fact rustling cattle.  He soon finds himself an outlaw with a bounty on his head, caught in a vicious web of cattle rustling and larceny. 

 Unknown to Joe, the man he shot recovers, and Joe’s friend Chad becomes a deputy sheriff under his father.  Fervently trying to avoid arresting his friend, Chad secures a plea bargain from a hardened judge who reluctantly agrees to go easy on Joe due to the circumstances of his initial flight. Joe agrees to meet Chad in Old Town Colorado City, but when Joe arrives, something goes terribly wrong.  Gunfire erupts, Chad lies dead in the street, and witnesses point to Joe as the killer.  Chad’s father—now a U.S. Deputy Marshal—swears to track him down.  Declaring his innocence, Joe begins the ride of his life, now running from the man he had once turned to for encouragement and support. 

      Lester veered into the thicket and dismounted, his horse foaming with sweat.

      “You’ve gotta get out of here.  Now!”

      “What’s the matter?” asked Joe, his skin tingling.

      “Chad’s dead,” Les answered, looking down.  “They say he died on the street in his pa’s arms.”

      Joe’s eyes widened in disbelief as he leaned against the tree trunk for support. “That can’t be true!” he declared in anger.  “I didn’t miss.  I never miss like that!”  He slapped the tree on which he was leaning.  “I got him in the shoulder, not the chest!”

      “That’s not what the witnesses are saying.”

 “I don’t care what the witnesses are saying!  I didn’t kill him!” he said emphatically.

      Chad, his best friend, was dead.  And he, Joe Boldt, had shot him in the streets of Colorado City—killed him if what Les said was true.  Disbelief soon gave way to anger, then regret, then mourning, span style='letter-spacing:-.05pt'> squeezing his heart until it ached with the loss.  He played the scene over and over in his mind.  He had pulled his gun up in time, he was sure of it.  It wasn’t me! he reaffirmed to himself.  I didn’t kill him!

      Les paced back and forth impatiently.  “There’s more, Joe,” he broke in.

      “What do you mean?” Boldt challenged.  “Don’t tell me I killed somebody else, because I didn’t!”

      “Worse.”

      “My best friend is dead, Les.  How can it be any worse?” asked Joe, stiffening for the final blow.

      “His pa is coming after you.”

      Joe’s muscles went slack, as he sank down onto a stump.  Now, on top of his grief, he felt fear creeping into the pit of his stomach.

      Marshal Bill Buckner never came back empty-handed, hunting men with a ruthless pursuit that made the worst criminal tremble.  As a boy, Joe had greatly admired the older Buckner for that trait. 

      Now, Joe was the hunted.  If he was caught, it would cost him his life.  He would either die at the end of a hangman’s noose, or catch the bullet of the man he had once loved like a father.  The time of trust and encouragement was over.  The smiling face he’d gone to for comfort and approval would never turn his way again.  Next time he saw Bill Buckner, the hand that stretched out to him would not hold the grip of friendship; it would hold a gun instead.

About the Author:

My interest in the Old West stemmed from my youth, when I trained and rode horses in 4-H Western competition, watched every Saturday matinee and prime-time Western on TV, and read everything I could about Texas and Colorado, outlaws, and lawmen.  For the past six years, I have conducted extensive research on this novel, visiting Colorado Springs, the Rocky Mountains, and Elkader, Iowa.  I have read reels of microfilmed newspapers which chronicled events of the period, incorporating many actual, though little-known, people and events into the storyline of Let My Enemy Pursue Me.

 I have a Bachelor of Arts Degree in Creative Writing, graduating with Honors in 1981 from the University of Washington.  For 12 years following graduation, I traveled the country and world as a U.S. Army officer, maintaining my creativity by working on my novel and short stories, sharpening my skills through business writing and editing, and joining local writing clubs.

 Currently, I am chief writer/editor of Abbacy Professional Writing, which I have owned and operated for over five years.  A Certified Professional Resume Writer, I have prepared Resumes and related documents for clients worldwide, written articles for area newspapers, and made presentations to career professionals and job seekers.  As a professional writer, I have written and edited full-length manuscripts, edited theses and dissertations, and created literally thousands of business and personal documents.  As a ghost writer for a career Special Operations soldier, I have just completed a non-fiction book on military tracking.

          —VLM