Silver Creek (The Parker Family Saga)

by G. L. Snodgrass

  Luke reacted without thinking. His gun appeared, the sights aligned, he fired. It was as he had done a thousand times before.

  Dawson lurched back, firing his gun into the ground at Luke’s feet, a red hole appearing at the top of his left shirt pocket.

  Luke held his fire. He knew where his shot had landed. There would be no need for another. As he watched, Dawson took another step back then twisted to fall face down in the dirt.

  Taking a deep breath, Luke let the rest of the world return to his awareness. The heat of the sun on the back of his neck. The smell of dust and horses, the thought of the pretty girl waiting for him. All of it rushed back in to replace the focused anger that had filled him.

  Ignoring the dead man in the street, Luke twisted and started for the Hotel.

  “Felton!” he yelled. This ended now. Too many men were dead. First Cooper, and now Dawson.

  “Where is he?” he barked at the hotel clerk.

  The man swallowed hard and pointed to the back door.

  Luke grumbled under his breath. The man had run. He’d known Luke would come after him and he’d run. He was finished. Turning tail like that would ruin him. The mighty Joshua Felton had run from a fight. People would laugh at him behind his back. His men would drift away, unwilling to work for a coward.

  Suddenly, Luke realized he was done. A shudder passed through his body as he realized it was over.

  “Luke?” Becky whispered from behind him.

  He turned to see the woman he loved standing there with the light behind her. Her face etched with concern. Worry for him. It was enough to make a man glad to be alive.

  “I’m done, Becky,” he said as his shoulders slumped. “I’ll take Mark Felton to the Penitentiary,” he added. “But when I get back. We’ll go to Oregon. I don’t think I will ever find out who killed your uncle.”

  She smiled as she rushed to him and wrapped her arms around him. “You. That is all that matters.”

  He held her, soaking in her strength as a thousand thoughts flashed through his mind. Things had changed, he realized. Now that he had something worth losing it made a man look at the world differently.

  “Come on,” he said as he slipped an arm around her waist to start back to the jail.

  “Can’t someone else take him?” Rebecca asked. “We could be married tomorrow and on the road the day after.”

  He laughed, “Let me finish this my way. But it’s over. Felton won't’ make another try. We’ll get married when I get back from Carson City, I promise.”

  She looked up at him with doubtful eyes. He wondered if she didn’t believe him or couldn’t dare think it might be behind them.

  When they got to the jail, his brother lifted an eyebrow. “You pushed things close, brother.”

  Luke shrugged his shoulders. “I need you to keep an eye on things for a week or so. I’m taking Felton tomorrow.”

  “You goin’ to catch the stage at Peabody? his brother asked.

  “They got one headed west, leaving in three days,” Luke replied. “It’ll cut off six days going straight through and changing horses. Besides,” he added as he glanced over at Becky, “I got a good reason to get back quick-like.”

  She blushed, but her smile made his world feel right.

  .o0o.

  Later that evening, Luke walked up the dark street. The town seemed quiet. As if it had been holding its breath and finally let the air out. People smiled and nodded to him as he passed. But they kept their distance.

  Sighing to himself, Luke stepped into the Red House and found a half dozen men leaning on the bar. None of them Circle B boys.

  “Frost,” he said with a nod of his head.

  The bartender swallowed hard then nodded back.

  Doc Weaver shuffled his deck of cards then nodded to him, a silent show of respect. The miners and cowboys were looking at him differently. Nervous like. As if they were worried he might explode at any minute.

  Weaver cut the cards then looked up. “I have to believe that was one of the fastest draws I have ever seen. And I saw Sam Bass down in Texas. McAdams was saying you shot that Dawson straight through the heart. He was dead before he hit the ground.”

  “McAdams talks too much,” Luke growled.

  Weaver laughed as he began to deal out the cards to the other players.

  Luke let it wash away as he studied the barroom for a moment. Things looked calm. Quiet.

  “I’m taking Felton to the Penitentiary tomorrow,” he said to Frost. “But my brother will be here keeping an eye on things. I don’t want to hear about no problems when I get back. Understand me?”

  Frost smiled. “I done told you, Sheriff, we are a right friendly group. You won’t be having problems with this lot.”

  Luke laughed as he turned his back on them and stepped out into the night. As he started back to the jail, he felt a sense of guilt fill him as he thought of Tom Johnson buried out on his ranch. His murder would not be avenged.

  He was passing the gap between the General Store and the Bull’s Head when a sound off down the alley caught his intention.

  He spun, his hand dropping to his gun when Kwe’ Nal, Red Hawk stepped out of the shadows. Rebecca’s Shoshone friend, Luke remembered.

  “Park-er, we talk,” the tall Indian said as he nodded for him to join him in the darkness of the alley.

  Luke’s insides fought with themselves as he tried to calm his racing heart. He’d almost drawn and killed the man before he knew who it was. He needed to get a hold of himself. Obviously, this afternoon’s battle had him on edge.

  Taking a deep breath, he joined the man in the deep shadows where they couldn’t be seen from the street. Lifting an eyebrow, he waited.

  The tall Indian studied him for a long moment. “I am told of you killing a man today. A hard man.”

  “He was paid to kill me. He was not paid enough.”

  The Indian grunted then looked off into the night. “I have come from Tom Johnson’s grave. To say my goodbyes to him. I take my son with me so he can hear the story of how a white man saved an Indian.”

  Luke nodded. There weren’t enough stories like that.

  Red Hawk paused for a moment as he studied him. “I would have Johnson’s killer found.”

  A deep guilt filled Luke when he realized he was going to be leaving without justice.

  “I would do so also,” Luke said. “But I don’t know if I can. There are no more trails to follow.”

  “As we leave Johnson’s grave,” Red Hawk said, “we cross the creek and begin north…”

  Luke held his breath wondering where this was going. The man hadn’t snuck into town for no reason.

  “… A stone’s throw. I find a … pile? A straight mound.”

  Luke nodded.

  “A pile of stones,” Red hawk continued. “Each put on top of the other. Not like the ancient medicine stones of my people. These are fresh, dug from the ground.”

  Luke frowned as he tried to understand.

  “I have seen these before,” Red Hawk continued. “It is your people’s way of claiming your land. A marker you put upon the earth.”

  “Was there more than one?” Luke asked. “A square, far apart. Maybe Johnson would have built them.”

  The Indian nodded. “Four piles, I find. Each marking a corner. The same as Johnson’s land on the sunset side of the creek. These are not there when I am saved by Johnson. But they are not new. Since last winter, new grass grows, where the stones were taken from the ground.”

  A worried frown creased Luke’s brow as he tried to understand the significance. Someone had claimed that land around the same time Tom Johnson had been killed. Why? Who? The Feltons already ran cows on that range. There was no need to claim it. Not unless they were wanting to stop someone else from getting it.

  But again. Why there?

  Red Hawk shook his head. “It is not Johnson who puts them there.”

  “No, guess not,” Luke said. Then looked up. “Thank you, Red Hawk.
You have given me a new trail to follow.”

  The Big Indian studied him for a long moment. “I am told that Rebbec-ca is to be your woman.”

  Luke couldn’t stop from smiling. “She has honored me by agreeing to be my wife.”

  Red Hawk’s eyes narrowed as he studied Luke for a long moment then he seemed to relax. “You do not deserve her. But, then no man does.”

  Laughing, Luke nodded. The man saw the truth of things.

  “Come see her. She will be angry at me if I let you go without seeing her.”

  The Indian shook his head. “It is already unwise for me to be here. Too many of your people do not want me here.”

  “I am hoping it will not always be such,” Luke said as he held out his hand.

  The big Indian looked down at the outstretched hand then up into Luke’s eyes. He grabbed Luke’s forearm and held him tight as he said, “You will care for Rebecca-ca of the golden hair. If not, I will learn of this and we will fight. And I will not be so easy as the man today.”

  Luke studied the man across from him then nodded. It wasn’t a threat. More a promise. But then, he had to agree with the man. Anyone who hurt Becky deserved to die.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Luke stood before the jail and watched the sun come up over the distant mountains. Stretching, he glanced over at the hotel. He’d sent Jake to spend the night there, deciding he’d come to like the jailhouse bunk.

  The town looked quiet, he thought. As quiet as it’d looked since he’d gotten there. The tension in the air was gone. Disappeared like smoke in a strong wind.

  “Come on Jake,” he mumbled to himself. The sooner his brother showed up. The sooner he could investigate what Red Hawk had told him last night. Thinking of the Indian made him smile. The man had given him a clue. The only problem was that Becky was going to be furious when she found out he hadn’t given up the search for Tom’s killer.

  When Jake stepped out of the hotel, Luke had to smile to himself. The boy had grown up tall and straight. A man to be proud of. He’d pulled his weight, done what he’d been told without a ton of back-talk. Zion and Hanna had done a good job. They’d taken an angry boy and turned him around.

  “I think I like that bunk better,” Luke’s brother said as he approached, cricking his neck. “Them hotel beds is too soft. It’s like sleeping on a cloud. Makes a man bend in the middle.”

  Luke nodded. “I need you to watch things for a bit.”

  Jake frowned. “I thought you was headed out?”

  “In a bit. I got a few things to do first. Got some new information about Tom Johnson’s murder.”

  “Becky know you back to digging into that? She ain’t going to be right pleased.”

  Luke laughed. “That’s why you’re not going to tell her.”

  “Not wise,” Jake said as he pushed past Luke and into the Jail. “Every time Zion tried to keep something from Hanna. It’d always come back to bite him.”

  A cold feeling of dread washed over Luke. He hated deceiving Becky. But he needed to do this. And if he was lucky, it would be finished before she knew he was up to anything.

  “Felton’s still asleep,” Luke told his brother. “Get him a meal. I don’t know how long this is going to take.”

  Jake shook his head. “Your funeral, Brother. But if’n I had a woman like Becky Johnson wanting to get married. I wouldn’t be making her upset. She might change her mind.”

  Luke laughed. “There ain’t a woman this side of Abilene that would have you.”

  Jake joined his brother in laughing. “Guess I’ll have to go further then. You set the bar high.”

  Slapping his brother, on the shoulder, Luke left him and made his way across the street to the stage office. Charley Crawford looked up from behind his teller window, his eyebrows rising to the top of his brow when the sheriff stepped in.

  “Stage ain’t due back for two days,” Crawford said.

  Luke nodded. “I’m told you keep the books for the land claims in this area.”

  Crawford frowned as he nodded. “Ain’t books. More papers like.”

  “I need to see what you got out by Tom Johnson’s place.”

  “Ain’t got nothing for out there.”

  “What do you mean?” Luke asked. “What do you have?”

  “Ain’t got nothing,” Crawford answered. “I just get to take down the information and send it to Carson City every month or so. Them state fellows like keeping the books. They get right upset if them forms ain’t all correct and proper, I can tell you.”

  Luke let out a long breath as he pushed down the anger building up inside of him. Why was it always this way? Nothing was ever easy.

  “Well, do you remember anyone submitting a claim on a section of land across the creek from Tom Johnson’s? Must have been about six months ago.”

  Crawford shook his head. “I wasn’t working here then. Got hurt in the mines. Half a ton of rock can make a mishmash of a man’s back. Chester got me this job. About two months ago. Got to tell you it is easier than swinging a double-jack. Never did think I’d use that reading and writing my Ma crammed into me. But I got to admit. It has come in right handy.”

  “Who was working then?” Luke asked as his mind tried to work out the trail.

  “Jimmy Carson,” Crawford said. “But it won’t do you no good tracking him down. He was killed about three or four weeks ago. He’d gone back to working the mines. Was walking home one night when someone shot him. Never did find out who. What makes it worse. It was the day before payday. The man didn’t have two nickels to rub together.”

  Luke’s gut tightened. The murdered miner Jamison had mentioned. One more path blocked. “You got a map that lays out the quarter sections?” Luke asked as he frantically tried to find another way down the trail.

  “Sure do,” Charley said as he turned back to a stack of rolled canvases atop a desk. He searched through them then pulled one out and unrolled it before him.

  “This is the one for that area,” he said. “See. This is Johnson’s place. And over here is the Feltons.

  Luke looked down at the map to the section across the creek from Johnson. Thick black X’s had been used to fill it in. The number 166 identified the piece of property. Tom’s was listed as 165. Luke could see where Tom’s had been claimed long before any survey work. They’d had to lay out the follow on sections to conform to his farm’s plot lines.

  “That just tells me it’s already been claimed but not who,” Charley said. “I only know the Thompson and Felton places because they’re the only ones out there.”

  Nodding. Luke sighed. He wasn’t going to find what he needed here.

  “Thank you,” he told the man as his mind searched for any other sources. Only one, he thought, and it was unlikely but it wouldn’t hurt to check.

  Ben Tuthill was behind his desk when Luke stepped into the bank.

  “Sheriff,” the banker said as he stood up from behind his desk to come around and shake Luke’s hand. “Yesterday. Most remarkable.”

  Luke ignored his statement, the last thing he wanted was to be thanked for killing a man.

  “Mr. Tuthill,” he began, “I know this is unlikely, but do you know of anyone claiming the land across the creek from Tom Johnson’s.”

  The man frowned.

  “I thought,” Luke continued, “maybe someone got a mortgage or a loan to build a home. Or if someone was looking to buy Johnson’s place. Maybe they claimed the land on the other side of the creek.”

  Tuthill continued to frown then shook his head. “If it was a homesteader. They can’t sell for five years. And I would never give a mortgage under those circumstances. If they don’t prove out, the place reverts to the government. I’d be out of business in no time.”

  Luke sighed, he had feared as much.

  Tuthill studied him for a minute then said, “I heard you were taking Felton to the penitentiary today and that when you got back, you and Miss Johnson were leaving for Oregon.”

&n
bsp; Rocking back in surprise, Luke raised an eyebrow. “I know some Army intelligence officers who would have wished access to sources like yours.”

  The banker smiled weakly and shrugged, “I am a businessman. A banker, but at heart a businessman. And wealth is created in two ways. Doing something new, valuable. Or knowing something new, and valuable. I make it a point to learn what I can.”

  Luke nodded. He could see it, this man would have his tentacles in a dozen different holes. “I suppose it’s convenient that I am headed to Carson City anyway. I’ll just have to track it down there. I had hoped to clear this up before I left. But …”

  Tuthill frowned. “You know, Sheriff. You have done more than enough for this town. You will never be repaid what we owe you…”

  Luke glanced down at the floor. He hated compliments, it made him feel like he owed people even more.

  The banker frowned, “Why don’t you let someone else take Felton to Jail. You and Miss Johnson should put this behind you. Start your life. Somewhere fresh, new. I can tell you if Miss Johnson was to be my bride, I wouldn’t be wasting a moment worrying about Mark Felton.”

  Shrugging his shoulders, Luke said, “I ain’t ever been able to leave a job half done. My brother-in-law, Zion would frown at me. And ain’t nothing worse than disappointing Zion Campbell. I guess the habit just took.”

  The banker shook his head. “You young people. You will never know what is important until it is too late.”

  Luke laughed. “Thank you, Mr. Tuthill. I’ll leave you for now.”

  The banker nodded. Luke was struck by the obvious concern in the man’s eyes. He really thought it would be better to walk away from this search and leave it behind them. Was he right? If the town hired someone else to take Felton to Carson City, he and Rebecca could be married immediately and on the road by tomorrow.

  The thought of his wedding night jumped to the front of his mind and refused to be pushed aside. He was making a mistake, his gut told him. Leaving Becky behind to search for something that would probably lead nowhere.

  No. He couldn’t walk away. He owed Tom Johnson too much. The man had raised Becky all by his lonesome. Many men would have shipped her off to some distant relative. How many would have drowned themselves in drink after losing his wife? But he hadn’t. He’d fought against the land and carved out a home. A home valuable enough to be sold and set Becky up with safety and security.