In some regards, this was a positive thing. Goods could be more quickly transported to towns and cities. Shipping rates became more reasonable. New jobs and industries ventured west. But much of this growth came at disastrous costs. To make way for the rail, Native Americans were driven from their homes, forced to relocate to reservations or killed in cold blood over the disputed land. When lines were built, it was mainly at the hands of minorities—Chinese and Mexicans in Arizona—who made significantly less than white foremen and laborers. And even once the rail was completed, other groups continued to see detrimental effects. Cowboys and ranchers, in particular, faced dwindling job offers. Instead of beef being driven across the plains over the course of months, it could now be shipped by train in a matter of days. In many cases, railroads even cut across cattle routes. The ever-expanding web of rail lines, combined with the winter blizzard of 1887, decimated the cattle industry. It never fully recovered.
While Vengeance Road was inspired by a legend, Retribution Rails was inspired by these rails—the lines that disrupted some lives while connecting others, and the innovation that birthed new industries while killing the old. A great deal of manpower (and money) was put into developing America’s rail systems, many of which did not stand the test of time. The Prescott and Arizona Central, for instance, was completed on New Year’s Eve, 1886, and abandoned a mere seven years later. Built on a shoestring, the P&AC was always plagued by problems—mudslides, washouts, delayed trains, and more—and it was never rebuilt after a spring storm washed out a large section of track in March 1893.
Many of the details regarding this line are historically accurate within Retribution Rails. When Reece and Charlotte arrive in Prescott on January 1, 1887, a celebratory gala was indeed making its way through the streets. The speech Charlotte listens to from her family’s carriage is quoted from one of the many speakers who addressed the crowd before the rail director, Thomas Bullock, brought the celebration to a close. Even the half-hog-ranch, half-work-car that Reece enters to face off with Crawford during the climax of the novel is factual. A crafty maintenance foreman built the pen when realizing that his tools only took up half the bed, allowing the work crew fresh pork while keeping the stench of pigs confined to a small space. Truth really is stranger than fiction. However, you may now be scratching your head at the dining car scene, wondering why such a car would exist on a shoestring operation. It likely didn’t. But this is where I pull out my artistic license card and admit that I doctored things to work for my story.
Another creative liberty? The Yuma Inquirer. No such paper existed, but the market for newspapers was present in almost every frontier town and a newly established one run exclusively by women did not seem that far a stretch. After all, starting a paper was the easy part. The trouble was keeping it running.
The Prescott Morning Courier was one of Arizona’s literary success stories. Its editor, John Marion, worked first for the Arizona Miner (owning it for a period of time) and later the Courier, which he founded in 1882. He was described as tenacious and full of vigor, and his style of reporting was viewed as bullying and slanderous by some, with complaints that Marion relied too heavily on opinion while drafting his pieces. Others maintained Marion’s paper was as reputable as any, that he was simply blunt and ruthless. Regardless, Marion was a staunch supporter of the P&AC and his writing helped rally the people of Prescott behind the rail. Whether the real John Marion would have helped Charlotte as my fictitious version did is hard to say. But had a female-run paper like the Yuma Inquirer existed, I feel strongly that they would have done some fact-checking and then come to Charlotte’s aid as quickly as they could line their composing sticks.
As for Nellie Bly, she would have most certainly been an inspiration for someone in Charlotte’s position. Though Bly was not renowned until the publication of Ten Days in the Madhouse (October 1887) and her subsequent Around the World in Seventy-Two Days (1890), any young girl trying to break in to the male-dominated field of journalism would likely have adored the example set by Nellie Bly, so long as that girl had access to the reporter’s writing.
While Reece and Charlotte are fictitious, the world they navigate in Retribution Rails is not. Despite my many hours of research, it is possible I have overlooked something and a historical inaccuracy has snuck in to this finished copy. Any such errors are mine alone.
Writing this novel felt like standing on a precipice. The West was “wild” in part because it was lawless, but also because nothing was constant. As railroads expanded and modern conveniences closed in, the Wild West slowly died. In many ways, the rail killed the frontier. I’ll leave where Reece and Charlotte land in this strange, shifting world up to your imagination.
Acknowledgments
* * *
Publishing a novel is a team effort and I tend to rely on the same group of champions with each book, both in the publishing world and in my personal life.
On the publishing end, many thanks to my agent, Sara Crowe, as well as the gang at Houghton Mifflin Harcourt: Kate O’Sullivan, Catherine Onder, Mary Wilcox, Linda Magram, Lisa DiSarro, Karen Walsh, Tara Sonin, Cara Llewellyn, Mary Magrisso, Dalia Geffen, Sophie Kittredge, and everyone who touched this project in some way or another. I’m so lucky to have you guys. Also, much love to Teagan White for another beautiful cover.
Thanks to my many writing friends (you know who you are) who stood by me as I struggled to draft and revise this novel. In particular, I owe Mindy McGinnis an incredible debt for her ruthless critiques and lengthy email brainstorms, and I’d be lost without Susan Dennard and Alex Bracken. Thanks for the judgment-free, endlessly supportive, always-there-to-lean-on friendship, ladies. Now let’s get back to work! (#cattleprod) And of course, my utmost gratitude to Ryan Graudin, Mackenzi Lee, and Tamora Pierce, who all read Retribution Rails prior to publication and shared such kind words about it.
To the members of my Vengeance Road posse: I am so grateful for every ounce of support that you have shown me and these Western stories. You keep me inspired, motivated, and determined to grow with each book I write. Thank you.
Buckets of gratitude to my family as well. My parents, sister, in-laws, relatives . . . Your undying support and love is the stuff of legends.
To my husband, Rob, for staying calm and encouraging throughout my many panicked moments these past eighteen months. I know now that I bit off more than I could chew. Two contracted novels plus a short story with schedules that all overlapped? I didn’t even do this much before we had a kid. I’m still not quite sure how I managed it, only that without you I definitely would have failed.
Casey, my love. Since you’ve been in the world, I’ve written two Westerns, this one dedicated to you. It’s strange because this lawless, wild tale is filled with the types of hardships I hope you never have to endure. And yet this book is for you. They’re all for you. I love you, and I mean it when I say you are my wildest, grandest, most amazing adventure.
And last, to the lovers of books—the readers and reviewers, the librarians and educators, the booksellers and book-stockers: You guys make the bookish world go ’round. You make my career possi?ble. Thank you for picking up this novel. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Chapter One
* * *