Silver Creek (The Parker Family Saga)

by G. L. Snodgrass

  The second cowboy, the one behind, glanced at his finger on the trigger then back up into his eyes before he looked over at his friend. The man swallowed hard and said, “We’re sorry Reb … Miss Johnson. We didn’t mean noth’en.”

  Becky nodded her acceptance of the apology.

  Luke shifted his gaze to the first cowboy and raised an eyebrow.

  The man clenched his jaw and hesitated. His glare shifted over to the front door, obviously wondering if he could get away without having to say anything. Either that, or desperately hoping someone would come in and alter the situation.

  Luke slid to the left just a bit to put himself between the man and the door. This idiot wasn’t leaving until Becky got her apology.

  Seeing the move, the man blanched. Slowly, the cowboy looked around the room at the half dozen other customers staring at him. Again, Luke could see it in the man’s eyes. He knew that this story was going to spread like a prairie fire. The tale could end only two ways. He apologized, or he ended up dead on the floor.

  Swallowing hard the cowboy glared at Becky. “We’re sorry,” he snapped.

  “No,” Luke said as he waved his gun to emphasize the point. “You’re sorry. It was you that thought you could manhandle her.”

  The man gritted his teeth then took a breath. “I apologize.”

  It was as if someone had opened a window and let in the fresh air. The tension was turned down a dozen pegs as Luke uncocked the pistol.

  The cowboy turned and stormed out. His friend, close on his heels.

  “Luke,” Becky said as she watched him holster his gun. Her eyes coming back up to meet his with a look of bewilderment and wonder.

  He smiled at her, “I swear girl, you draw trouble like honey draws bees.”

  Her cheeks grew pink then she suddenly threw herself into his arms. “Luke, I can’t believe it’s you.” A new awareness came over him. Becky was all grown up. The soft scent of roses surprised him while the feel of her in his arms was one of those special moments he’d recall on his deathbed.

  Then, as if remembering there were people about, she pulled back to stare down at the floor.

  “You came,” she whispered.

  He felt his world settle. Months of worry and questions were answered. He had been troubled the whole way across the country thinking she might have moved on. That he might spend the next ten years chasing her from town to town. But, she was here, as beautiful as he had anticipated and it was obvious she needed his help.

  “Of course, Becky. I told you I would.”

  She looked up at him slowly with a strange look. “I never really doubted it.”

  .o0o.

  Rebecca Johnson fought to wrap her mind around the fact that Luke Parker stood there, right in front of her. Tall, strong, heroic, Luke Parker. It was as if her world had shifted to a new reality. Luke Parker was here to help.

  Men were settling in their chairs as the restaurant returned to normal. Knives and forks clinked on plates. Low conversations buzzed about the room as men discussed what just happened. Her heart jumped to her throat as she thought about Luke confronting Mark Felton and Troy Cooper.

  What had she done? The man had put himself at risk because of her. Suddenly the thought of Luke getting hurt seemed too much. No ranch was worth that.

  He removed his hat and gave her just a hint of a smile. A touch of that oh so familiar Luke smile. Not enough, but a hint. He’s even more guarded now she realized. He had always been a bit stoic. Confident, quiet, but sure of himself. Even as a boy. But now, it was something else. Something that kept him hidden.

  He was no longer the thirteen-year-old boy she remembered. Tall with a square jaw. There was a hardness about the eyes. As if he had seen too much in a short life. Then the army shirt registered. The stagecoach was constantly returning soldiers from both sides. Men still wearing parts of their former uniforms.

  “Hanna forwarded your letter to me,” he said as he turned his hat in his hand. “Found me in Virginia, I would have been here sooner but the army can be slower than a bear in winter.”

  “You were in the army? The war between the states,” she asked as she recognized the marks on his shoulders that used to hold an officer’s epaulets.

  “Calvary,” he said as he nodded to the yellow braid on his hat. “They made me a Lieutenant.” The hidden pride in his voice made her smile inside. That was the Luke she remembered. Of course, they’d made him an officer, even the army couldn’t be that dumb that they didn’t know special when they saw it.

  Once again, her world shifted. Suddenly, her problems seemed so silly. The man had spent years fighting for his life. Of course, now the hard look in his eyes made sense.

  The two of them stood there as an awkwardness fell around them. What could she say to him? Except for a few months on the Oregon trail, they knew nothing about each other’s life. Was he married? Was there someone special in his life? How could she have been such a fool to ask for his help? And why had he come? He didn’t owe her anything.

  Without thinking, her hand reached up to touch his arm just to make sure he was really there. “Helen,” she called over her shoulder, afraid to take her eyes off him in case he disappeared.

  “Yes,” her friend said as she put the large meat cleaver on the kitchen counter and stepped towards them. Rebecca knew instinctively that Helen had been there with her huge knife. Ready to come help with Mark Felton.

  “Helen,” Rebecca said as she continued to touch Luke’s arm. “This is Luke Parker. My dearest and oldest friend.”

  Her friend’s eyebrows rose as she slowly turned to examine Luke.

  “Ma’am,” he said as he dipped his head to her.

  Helen gave her a strange look then turned back to Luke and said, “Welcome to Silver Creek, Mr. Parker. You do make an entrance.”

  He laughed. “Met a man on the stage. Riding shotgun, name of Polk, told me about your cobbler.”

  Helen’s cheeks grew red as she looked down.

  “He’s the one who told me where to find you,” he said to Rebecca. “But most of the time he talked about cobbler. Never knew a man so interested in peaches.”

  She looked up into his eyes as she tried to take it all in, Luke Parker, here in Helen’s restaurant. She had dreamt about this day for years. Wondered about this kind boy who had meant so much to her. Who had been there when she needed him.

  It looked like once again, Luke had stepped forward to help her.

  “How do you like your steak, Mr. Parker?” Helen asked over her shoulder as she started for the kitchen.

  “Luke, Ma’am. Please. And I like it just this side of raw.”

  “Very well, Luke, but only if you call me Helen. A friend of Rebecca’s is always welcome.”

  He smiled, then once again looked down into her eyes. The two of them stared at each other for a long moment as her stomach churned with nervous energy until she remembered where she was.

  Do something, she thought to herself. Anything. Don’t just stand there staring like a lost fawn. “Sit. I’ll have your dinner in just a moment. Coffee?”

  He sat and sighed as he nodded. “I could use some, it’s been a bit of a chore getting here.”

  She quickly poured him a cup, then got the broom and pan to sweep up the busted sugar bowl. Once that was done, she looked around for something else to keep her busy. But there was nothing left, no one needed coffee. There were no dishes to clear nor orders to be filled.

  The other men in the room slowly left as they finished. The blacksmith, Jack Strumph, studied Luke for a moment then tipped his hat to her. He turned to leave then turned back.

  “I’d be careful,” the man said to Luke. “That Felton don’t like being told no. And that Troy Cooper is faster than a sidewinder. Didn’t think there was anyone faster. Not until today.”

  Luke shrugged. “I ain’t even the fastest in the family. My brother Jacob could beat me nine out of ten times. And Zion. He’d of just banged their head together and le
ft them to rot.”

  The huge blacksmith shrugged his shoulders. “It don’t matter. Knowing that lot. They won’t give you a chance. I’d watch my back trail if’n I was you.”

  Luke pursed his lips as he nodded his understanding, his eyes silently thanking the man for his warning.

  Rebecca’s insides clenched tight. This was all her fault. Luke shouldn’t have to deal with this. It was unfair and undeserved. What had she done? She should have just gone away. Left this town and all of its problems. Luke wouldn’t be here risking his life for her and her silly dreams.

  But then, Luke wouldn’t be here. Sitting across from her and her world wouldn’t feel so wonderful.

  Chapter Five

  Luke slowly chewed his steak as he listened to Becky tell her story. The sheriff arriving to inform her that the ranch had been sold. About finding her uncle shot in the back and all the money stolen. About Helen saving her, giving her a job.

  He frowned as he studied her for a long moment. “The sheriff look into it?”

  “He said he did and that the sale was square.”

  “But?” he asked.

  He watched as her shoulders slumped. “It’s obvious. They paid for the ranch thinking they could get the money back on the trail.”

  “Where is this man?” he asked. “Out at the ranch?”

  Becky shook her head. “He sold out and disappeared. The Feltons bought it.”

  “Convenient,” Luke said as he tried to work it out. “The Feltons. Any relation to that idiot from before?”

  She nodded. “The younger brother, Joshua Felton, is the power behind the family. They own half the valley and two of the mines up in the hills.”

  “If they own so much, why did they want your uncle’s ranch? I mean, land ain’t exactly scarce in these parts.”

  She frowned as she slowly shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense I know. They aren’t even using it, the ranch, except as a line cabin for cowboys working the range.”

  He shook his head, he hated mysteries. They gnawed at his gut until he got them worked out and this here sounded more convoluted than the Snake River at flood.

  “How is Jacob,” Becky asked as she leaned forward. “And Hanna?”

  He hesitated a moment. Was she sweet on his little brother? They were about the same age.

  “They are fine, at least the last time Hanna wrote. “She and Zion married …”

  Becky smiled. “I’m not surprised. She loved him from the first.”

  Luke nodded, “Yes, well, he took a bit of convincing that a settled life would be good for him. But I got to tell you. I ain’t never seen a man more content in my life. A sweet horse ranch, a good wife, and a half dozen young’ens. Yes, I’d say Zion came out just fine.”

  Once again, an awkward silence fell around them. He’d never been good at talking to women. Especially pretty ones. But Becky was different. It seemed like they should be able to talk about anything. Like when they were kids. They’d shared a dozen secrets. Now, here, it was as if a giant wall stood between them.

  “I heard them call you Rebecca,” he said. “Do you prefer that to Becky?”

  She smiled at him. “I thought I did. But now … with you. Maybe not.”

  “In my mind, you will always be Becky. The strong-willed girl who made the sunrise fade in comparison.”

  Her cheeks grew very red as she continued to stare into his eyes. Then, as if remembering something, shook her head and asked, “You haven’t been home?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “It’ll be there when I finish here.”

  She frowned as she looked off into the distance. He was struck once again by how beautiful the woman was. Corn silk hair the color of the sun. Blue eyes that sparkled with intelligence. A heart-shaped face with a pert little nose and high cheekbones. All of that combined with a form, perfectly curved. The kind of woman that could make a man glad to be a man.

  Yes, Becky had grown up.

  She turned back to him. “I don’t want you to get involved. I was wrong to ask for you to come.”

  His gut clenched. “You ain’t happy to see me?”

  Her cheeks blushed as she looked down and shook her head. “No. You know that’s not it. I just don’t want you getting hurt. The ranch isn’t worth it.”

  Luke hesitated for a moment then sighed heavily. “It ain’t just about your ranch. Your uncle was murdered. I don’t know if you remember, but when he got hurt that time and let me lead his stock. He put a lot of trust in a young boy and never made me feel like I couldn’t do it. That meant a lot at that time in my life. He deserves justice. At least in my book.”

  She continued to frown. “Yes, but it has been so long. Six months. What can you do?”

  He glared off into the distance as he took a sip of coffee. “I can stir things up and see what happens. One thing I’ve learned, secrets have a way of spilling out where you least expect it.”

  Her look of doubt didn’t fill him with confidence. But one thing he knew deep in his heart. The killers of Tom Johnson would pay. Preferably by a long drop on a short rope.

  Later in the early evening, just before sundown, as he checked himself into the hotel, he thought back to Becky. His heart ached thinking of what she had gone through. Her life seemed so unfair. A protectiveness just naturally filled him every time he thought about her.

  After tossing his saddlebags onto the bed he looked at them and winced. All he owned in this world. Three Army shirts issued to him ten months ago when he received his commission. A heavy blue coat and the gun on his hip. Four years of war and that was it. An anger began to build inside of him. Not at any one person or thing. But at the way of the world. The war had taken him from his family and hardened his heart. The world had taken Becky’s family and home.

  Then his mind drifted back to the Army and the things he’d done and seen. Becky might be the only purely good thing in this world and he should be careful to make sure none of his darkness washed over onto her.

  No. it wasn’t right and it was time he started making things better for her. But where? How?

  He pulled the lace curtain back and stared down the dusty street. Silver Creek, Nevada. Tucked in at the lower end of the open-ended valley. Not much different than most of the towns he’d passed through on the way. Three saloons, two churches, the smithy sitting between Becky’s restaurant and the Livery stables. On the other side of the stables, the stage station, and the assay office.

  Across the street, a general store, the sheriff's office and jail made out of adobe. One of the churches and two of the saloons. On the corner, a sign announcing John McAdam, Barber, Dentist, and Undertaker. An enterprising man, Luke thought with a shudder as he remembered the field hospitals after every battle.

  Taking a deep breath, he continued to examine the town. Mostly men. But more than a few women. That was different he thought to himself. The country was getting more women than when he left. Maybe it was the stage lines. Either that or things had settled down enough. Regardless of why. It seemed strange seeing almost a dozen honorable women in town. Especially in a hard place like this.

  Pulling his gaze away from the people in the street he looked out further. Shacks and cabins were sprinkled at the outskirts and up on the valley walls. At the far end of the town, beside the creek, a large stamp mill for the mines sat next to a wobbly bunkhouse for the miners.

  A hint of dust hung in the air. Trees, mostly cedar and scrub pine along the creek that meandered down the valley. From a map in the stage office, he’d learned the creek traveled another dozen miles southeast before spilling into the Humboldt. Her uncle’s ranch was about ten miles northwest straddling the creek.

  From what Becky told him, the valley spread out at that point and was one of the few flat areas for miles around with good bottomland. Good for corn, her uncle had claimed.

  Luke grimaced at the thought of the man being shot in the back. Robbed of everything. If he was the same man he remembered, he’d done it all for Beck
y. Built something worth leaving to her. To have it stolen was so wrong.

  Once again that burning anger boiled inside of him. It had taken everything within him to contain it when he confronted that Felton fellow. It was only Becky’s look of shock that stopped him from shooting both men where they stood.

  Taking a deep breath, he tried to refocus on what he already knew.

  The stagecoach guard, Chester Polk, had told him that there were six mines in the area, mostly up in the hills outside of town. Nothing major. Silver with a touch of gold occasionally. Some with only a dozen men working them.

  Was that it? Had someone discovered mineral on the Johnson’s place? Concocted this massive deceit, killed a good man. It wouldn’t be the first. But something told him that wasn’t the case. It’d been six months and no one was proving out the area.

  One thing he knew. Men didn’t leave valuable silver laying in the ground when they could get to it.

  What then? Why buy a ranch just to use it as a line shack? The creek ran year-round, so a half-mile north, and they could have put up their own shack. And it wasn’t as if Johnson was running a huge heard on the range. A one-man operation probably didn’t have more than a dozen head. So, this wasn’t a range war.

  He needed to know the truth. He knew he would never be able to rest until he did and heaven knew he had more than a few terrors keeping him up at night. He didn’t need to add to the list.

  New territory he thought and that meant scouting things and learning the lay of the land. What? Maybe three, four hundred people here in town. And another couple of hundred in the surrounding countryside. Plus, the Piute, Bannock, and Shoshone villages north and west. Someone must know something. It was just a matter of finding that person.

  As he continued to watch the street, he noticed a big man walking down the far boardwalk. The afternoon light glinted off the star on his chest just before he opened the door to the jailhouse.

  Grabbing his hat, Luke started down the stairs only to remember the Smithy’s warning about Felton and Cooper. He paused at the front door and slowly examined the street before stepping out. A thousand lessons from Zion flashed through his mind. They had saved him so many times. Reb snipers had sharpened their skill to a fine edge.