A man returning from war often expects to find something left behind, some piece of life waiting to be reclaimed. In The Devil’s Shadow series by Burt Tyson, Captain Robert Hester instead faces a reality where everything he once relied on has vanished, leaving him to confront what comes after loss.
For Captain Robert Hester, the end of the war does not bring closure. It leaves him wounded, hunted, and without direction in a world that has moved on without him. The structures that once defined his life have fallen away, replaced by a path shaped entirely by consequence and personal choice.
His story begins in The Shadow Appears, where he emerges from the war with his name placed on a Union kill list as the Confederacy collapses around him. Returning home offers no refuge. Instead, he is met with a devastating loss that erases everything he expected to find. What follows is no longer about causes or commands, but a deeply personal pursuit. Riding with his loyal sergeant through a fractured landscape, he confronts a world where survival often outweighs honor and former soldiers have become something harder and less certain.
Without that driving force, The Shadow Grows places Hester in unfamiliar land, moving forward without purpose and carrying the weight of what remains. A chance encounter with a wounded Apache elder draws him into a different way of living, one grounded in patience and discipline. When violence threatens those around him, he must decide whether to remain apart or step forward, knowing the choice will define his future.
Goodreads:
Burt Tyson writes historical Western fiction rooted in the aftermath of the Civil War, where questions of honor, loss, and survival take center stage. Influenced by classic storytellers like Louis L’Amour, Larry McMurtry, and the Western television heroes he grew up watching, his work explores what happens when the fight is over and a man is left to decide who he is without it.
His Devil’s Shadow series follows Captain Robert Hester through a fractured post-war America and into the unforgiving frontier beyond.
Tyson lives in a small town in South Carolina, where the landscape is quiet—but the stories he tells are anything but. Visit Burt at his website.
The Shadow Appears
Chapter 1
The buzzing woke me. I opened my eyes. It was morning. I saw the blowfly on the sheet that covered my chest, staring at me through his two large eyes, his wings vibrating in the still air.
I didn’t even bother to shoo him away. It was a waste of time. There were too many of them. There shouldn’t have been. It was the last week of March in Richmond in 1865, and there should have been a few in sun-warmed windows and no more.
But this was the Chimborazo Hospital and blowflies were everywhere, along with the groans and cries of wounded men— many dying—and the ever-present stench of disease, gangrene, human waste, and blood.
We were a sad lot. Too little medicine. Too little food. Too little hope. Too much pain. Too much fear. And for many, too few limbs.
But it was far better than the field hospital where I had lain for a day after being shot. Or the jolting, painful wagon ride to Richmond.
I had been here since the middle of December. First, it was the wound and the blood loss. Then, the fever had come. And, now, it was just the weakness. I didn’t have the strength to get out of bed—a pretty pitiful sight for a cavalry officer.
I heard the click of cavalry boots on the wooden floor before I saw the figure. Captain Jonathan Washburn stood at the end of my bed. His left sleeve was folded up and pinned at the shoulder. I could never get used to seeing him without his arm.
“Well, Captain, I suppose you’ve malingered long enough. You have new orders. Get yourself dressed. We’re taking you out of all this.”
“I’m being released from this hell-hole? You mean that?”
“I do, indeed. Turley, front and center, man. Get yourself out here and help the captain.”
Sergeant Josiah Turley materialized as if out of thin air. A lean, wiry mountain boy, Turley was raw-boned, with a shock of red hair and a disposition to match.
It was Turley, more than anyone else, who had saved me.
The Shadow Grows
Chapter 1
I rode out of Parral with no sense of purpose, no mission. I was lost. I still had the dreams. Every night.
They began as they always did, with the bloody tears streaming from my mama’s portrait, the wraithlike figures of Aunt Callie, my daddy, my sister, and my fiancée swirling about me, asking why I hadn’t saved them. And then, after the fire and the blood of my home place, the faces of Ruth and Laurie and the bodies of Abby and Jacob. And then all of the loved ones in the dream swirled around me like tormented spirits. Their voices joined together in a single chorus. Though their mouths never moved, I heard their words.
You’ve failed us. Where is our vengeance? Where is our peace? What are we to do?
Their haunting bodies pressed around me, choking me with their presence.
And each night I would come awake, unable to breathe, my heart racing. It always felt like I would never regain my breath or still my heart. The oppression of sadness and pain and guilt never seemed to go away.
As I rode westward, riding the big gray stallion, Quicksilver Ghost, and leading three other horses, Lady Red, the bay I had given my sister, and two black geldings, I still carried the hope of revenge on George Stoneman for what his bummers had done to the ones I loved back in Virginia and North Carolina. But with the failure of Jo Shelby’s plans to regroup and reenter Texas to continue the fight against the Yankees, I had little left but despair. I rode the lonely wastes of Chihuahua State in Mexico, heading for the Copper Canyon. I had nothing else to do that mattered.
I decided I would enter the Barrancas del Cobre, the Copper Canyon, from the west and ride back toward Texas. I rode through the towns of La Noria, El Tule, San Pablo Balleza, La Loma, Yoquivo, Batopilas, La Bufa, and Cusarare. At each of the towns, I found a place for my horses and cared for them. I ate in whatever cantina the town had to offer and drank mescal.
At Cusarare, I rode east toward the canyon, descending into the most desolate country I had ever seen. And the most beautiful. From the high mountain ridges to the bottom of the canyon, I went from alpine peaks of pines and Douglas fir at almost eight thousand feet to huge figs and palm trees at the bottom of the canyon at just eighteen hundred feet above sea level.
For the next two weeks, I rode through the Copper Canyon. I marveled at the copper and green color of the canyon walls and the beauty and stillness of it. There was plentiful game, and I ate well while riding through this marvel of nature. I saw no one and no sign of anyone.
The peace and solitude felt good. I thought a lot. About my life for the past few years. And about what the Padre had said to me. But I still had the dreams.
Q & A
What’s a detail, theme, or clue in your book that most readers might miss on the first read but you secretly hope someone notices?
That men, at least prior to current times, were never taught to deal with failure. And, yet, the loss of the War and the “Cause” carried with it, often, the loss of home, family, future and purpose. What better metaphor for failure than the Confederate soldier after the Civil War?
When did this story or idea “click” into place for you—was there a single moment you knew you had to write it?
The issue of men and loss had been around since the mid-1980s when I was forced to close a business and my wife divorced me. Around 1990, I wrote a novel which would become the 5th novel in this series. After my 2nd wife died in 2016, I started writing again and wrote the 1st novel in the series which sets the tone and the themes for the rest of the series: loss, failure, guilt, despair…and, perhaps, redemption.
Which character or real-life person surprised you the most while writing this book, and why?
The Mexican Padre (not a real-life person). His thoughts and questions surprised me as they were not ones I had had.
If your book had a soundtrack, which songs would be on it and what scenes or moments would they pair with?
The Theme Song of the Gray Ghost TV series about John Singleton Mosby for the opening of the novel.
“Lorena,” during and after the destruction of his home and the killing of his family and his fiance.
“The Bonnie Blue Flag,” during the journey through the devastated South to rejoin Jeff Davis and then to reach Texas.
“The Yellow Rose of Texas,” as Captain Hester, Sergeant Turly and Corporal Travis enter and ride through Texas.
A Mexican song celebrating the Battle of Puebla (e.g., La Paloma Juarista), as a foretelling of the outcome of Shelby’s attempt to negotiate with Maximillian, to be played during the scene when Hester explains his break with Shelby.
Mariachi music in the scene in the cantina with confrontation with Mexican vaquero.
“Ave Maria instrumental” for the scenes with Padre Jose as Hester is recovering from wounds.
The theme song for the movie The Outlaw Josie Wales for the final scene of the novel.
What’s one belief, question, or emotional truth you hope readers carry with them long after they finish your book?
That the Cowboy Code endures…honor.,honesty, courage, knowing right from wrong.
Tell us about a moment during the writing process when the story (or message) took an unexpected turn.
The introduction of Jim Dandy Travis and the events in Dogtown and on the Travis ranch.
If your protagonist (or central figure) could give the reader one piece of advice, what would it be?
Fight for right and saddle up no matter how high the risk.
What real-world place, object, or memory helped shape a key element in your book?
Jo Shelby’s retreat into Mexico.
What’s something you had to research, learn, or experience to write this book that genuinely surprised you?
Almost everything. Civil war guns, post-war Natchez, Shelby’s march into Mexico, horses, etc.
If your book were invited to join a shelf with three other titles, which ones would make you happiest—and what would that shelf say about your story?
Lonesome Dove, The Daybreakers, Kilkenny, Appaloosa
That this is a Western about strong men with honor, fighting for a place to live and overcoming life’s circumstances.
ramblingmads 