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    The Man Tracker
    The Man Tracker
    The Man Tracker
    Ebook40 pages38 minutes

    The Man Tracker

    By Troy Andrew Smith

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    About this ebook

    Joe Hansom knew what his purpose in life was and he was good at it. Others speculated that if Hansom was on your trail he'd "hand some death out to you." Over the years that had been shortened up and Joe was now known over a large distance as "the hands of death." 

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJ.C. Hulsey Books
    Release dateFeb 1, 2024
    ISBN9798224813605
    The Man Tracker
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    Author

    Troy Andrew Smith

    Troy Andrew Smith was born on July 13th, 1952 in the small rural town of Nowata, Oklahoma. He was raised on a ten acre place just outside of town and grew up dreaming of being a cowboy like his Dad. Although, their place was small, it was directly across the road from a large ranch and just down the road from another big spread. By the time Troy was 15 he was a regular hand during branding and shipping. He had no idea of ever being in a movie. As an adult, Troy worked as a ranch hand, machinist, carpenter, guide, dude wrangler, and Country Western singer. He also wrote a weekly column for the Nowata newspaper and had several of his Cowboy poems published in various publications. While attending film school at Montana State University, Troy supplemented his income with movie jobs in the summers and started writing novels and screenplays. He has ridden horses or driven teams in numerous movies and TV shows, including three seasons on HBO's series DEADWOOD. At this time Troy is concentrating his efforts on his skills as a Screenwriter, Author and Actor.

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      Book preview

      The Man Tracker - Troy Andrew Smith

      MAN TRACKER

      Joe Hansom held the tiny newborn baby in his rough and calloused hands. It was a boy, covered in all of the things a brand new baby is covered with at birth. Joe had tied off the umbilical cord, but the boy hardly moved at all. Joe knew he was probably the worst person to have birthed this child, his hands were the hands of death, not life, but there had been no other to help.

      Joe Hansom had been riding hard for almost twenty-four hours in order to reach the cabin. Although he knew he should rest, he’d not been wanting to wait. He’d waited long enough to catch his man and he didn’t want him to have time to possibly sneak out after it got dark. Joe was slipping up on the cabin’s side with no window or door, when he heard a woman scream in anguish or terror, he couldn’t be sure which. Maybe she had suffered from both. Knowing that the man he was after was capable of doing almost anything, Joe had thrown caution to the wind and charged into the cabin. The man he was looking for wasn’t there, but this woman was and she was having a baby.

      Help me, please!

      The woman’s weak request brought Joe Hansom out of his thoughts and back to the problems at hand. Problems he knew he was not cut out to deal with. He held the baby out to the woman.

      Would you like to see him? Joe asked the woman.

      Please help me!

      That was the last words the woman would ever say in this life. A shudder ran through her body accompanied by a rush of blood that soaked the already red mattress between her legs and she died. Moments later, the baby ceased to breathe.

      Joe Hansom tenderly laid the baby alongside his mother and covered them both in one of the surprisingly clean quilts folded and hung over the end of the bed. He stepped back and looked at his hands, now covered in blood and, "God knows what all?" thought Joe. There was a pitcher of water and a large pan next to the woodstove in the corner. Joe studied his hands as he walked to the pitcher, found it to be full of water and poured some into the metal basin.

      Joe wondered if the two would’ve lived if they had been found by somebody else. Maybe if a circuit preacher had been riding by, maybe he could ‘a saved ‘em? Better yet, a doctor with hands that cured people of all kinds of ailments but it didn’t matter now. His were the hands that had found them. Hands that were big and gnarly, with knuckles swollen from the cold and long hours exposed to the elements as he pursued one outlaw and then another. Sometimes but not often, bringing those men back to stand trial for their crimes. More often than not, he just brought the bodies back in order to collect the reward. Joe Hansom was a bounty hunter.

      It had been said he was related to the Joe

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