Silver Creek (The Parker Family Saga)

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Silver Creek (The Parker Family Saga) Page 17

by G. L. Snodgrass


  He had taken care of Becky when Luke hadn’t been there to do it. Only to be cut down and robbed. No, he owed the man too much.

  “Jake,” he called when he stepped into the jail. “Saddle my horse and one for Felton.”

  “My Dun and my saddle are at the Livery,” Felton called from the back. “If’n I’m riding to jail. I want to do it on my own horse.”

  Jake’s eyebrows rose as he stepped out from the back cell. “Do not tell me you’re leaving without telling Becky goodbye. She’d skin me alive for letting you go that way.”

  Luke shook his head. “Brother, I might be an idiot at times but even I ain’t that stupid.”

  Jake laughed as he went to do what he’d been asked.

  Luke sighed as he thought about Becky. When he stepped into the restaurant he froze. She had her back to him. Her blond hair up, exposing a long, graceful neck and curvy hips that pulled at something inside of him.

  She glanced over her shoulder to find him there staring at her. She smiled, her eyes lighting up with pleasure.

  “Here,” she said as she hurried into the kitchen and returned with a burlap bag. “It should hold up until you get to Peabody and the stage.”

  Luke accepted the bag of food from her and stared into her eyes until he realized they were being observed by a dozen customers. Men fascinated by the couple in front of them.

  “Come here,” he said as he took her elbow and pulled her through the kitchen and out the back door to the alley behind the restaurant. Helen shot them a knowing smile then returned to her fry pan.

  “I should be gone about a week. Ten days at the most,” he told Becky.

  She bit her lip and nodded. “And then we can leave?”

  His gut tightened. God, how he hated disappointing her. “Maybe,” he said. “But I saw Red Hawk last night. He gave me some information I need to check in Carson City. If it pans out. It might lead me to your uncle’s killer.”

  Her shoulders slumped as she studied him. “You have to do what you have to do. But, while I want justice for Uncle Tom. Not if it means risking you. We are so close.” she sighed heavily. Then said, “you do what you have to do.”

  He pulled her into a kiss, a kiss to seal his love for her. A kiss to tell her and the world that she was the only woman he would ever love.

  “You will be all right,” he said after he pulled back and looked down into her eyes. “Jake is here.”

  She laid her head against his chest then said sarcastically, “This town? You know nothing bad ever happens here.”

  They both laughed and held onto each other as if they were the only thing worth having in this world.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Felton’s shackles rattled as Luke reached over to halt the prisoner’s horse at the top of the ridge. They’d followed Silver Creek down to Mary’s River, then to the Humboldt before they caught the stage out of Peabody. It’d been four long days since then.

  Now, after hiring horses in Reno, they pulled up on a ridge and stopped to see a rail laying crew below them.

  Felton said with a touch of awe, “Before you know it, they’ll hook up with the Union Pacific tracks. And then what will that do to this country?”

  Luke laughed, “If you’re lucky, you might be getting out just in time. Just think on it. What took me and mine six months of walking could be done in a few days.”

  Felton shook his head. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing. The place is going to fill up with more people than we want. You’ll see. We’ll get right crowded.”

  The two men sat their horses and looked down at the activity before them, neither of them able to fully take in the bustling activity below. Men were out ahead of the tracks, grading and leveling the ground. Men behind them were placing timbers. Another two sets of men followed them immediately, using cross carriers to haul a pair of twelve-foot sections of iron track. No sooner had they dropped them in place than a new set of men appeared in groups of four hammering in the huge spikes to hold the track in place.

  Then, once again, it was all repeated, a constant machine.

  “Come on,” Luke said as he pulled his horse to start down the ridge.

  Felton laughed, “I ain’t the one in a hurry. I wouldn’t mind taking a few extra days getting to prison. But then, I ain’t the one got a pretty woman waiting for me at home.”

  Luke ignored him as he led the way down off the ridge. The two men passed over the Truckee River at a ford and started following the trail for Carson City.

  “Don’t envy them laying track across that forty-mile gap,” Felton said with a shake of his head, referring to that part of the Nevada desert barren of any water.”

  “I hear that they’re going to end up following the Emigrant Trail along the Humboldt all the way to the Utah territory,” Luke said.

  Felton frowned as he turned to look back at the working men. “I guess it could be worse. They could be locked up each night and spend their days carving stones out of a quarry under a Nevada summer sun.”

  Luke didn’t respond. The closer they had gotten to the prison the more morose Felton had become before finally coming to accept his fate.

  It was late afternoon when they rode into Carson City, the state capital. The town was bigger than anything Luke had seen since leaving Virginia. Actual brick buildings mixed in with wooden shacks. Growing so fast they couldn’t keep up. The silver and gold from the mountains financing it all.

  “There it is,” Luke said pointing to a large wooden building.

  “Looks like a hotel,” Felton replied.

  “Used to be,” Luke said as he pulled his horse off to the left. “But don’t be thinking you can just walk away. They got a dozen Piute scouts to track down prisoners that wander off and they get paid for each body they bring back. No questions asked.”

  Felton swallowed hard then took a deep breath before sighing. “Well, let’s get this over with. You got a life to get back to.”

  Luke swung down and tied off his horse then waited for Felton to climb down. “You keep your head down and do what you’re told,” he said to the man next to him, “and you’ll come out fine the other end.”

  Felton scoffed, “That’s the problem, I ain’t never been smart when it comes to listening to other people.”

  A tightness in his gut surprised Luke, he hadn’t expected to regret taking the man to prison, but it was there. The knowledge that this man would be losing his freedom, his ability to control his own life. It didn’t sit well. But then without consequences, society itself would fall apart.

  After handing over the paperwork to the guard at the front gate, Luke turned and removed the shackles from Felton’s wrists then held out his hand. “Good Luck.”

  The man’s eyes opened in surprise at the offered hand then smiled as he shook it. “Thanks, Sheriff, if’n you’re still around, I’ll set you up for a drink in the Red House when I get out.”

  Luke nodded, “And I’ll get the second one.”

  Felton smiled then nodded to the guard that he was ready. The man took him by the elbow and led him away.

  Watching him go, Luke couldn’t stop from thinking about how a few reckless actions had led to so much death and mayhem. And now the man was going to pay with three horrible years being removed from his life.

  The anti-climatic feeling was a surprise. It was over. With a heavy sigh, Luke turned and retrieved the horses. A nervous anxiety filled him. Now for the next task.

  He was so close to finding out the answers he needed. Unfortunately, it was too late in the day. The offices were closed. Instead, he dropped off the horse at the livery, then got himself a hotel room. He’d have to get to the records office first thing in the morning, then return to the trail back to Reno and a stage.

  As he lay in bed with his hands crossed behind his head he thought about Becky. What was she doing? Was she smiling? God, how he loved it when she smiled. One of her smiles made the world feel right and proper.

  The next morning brok
e bright and clear. A high blue sky with a hint of the heat coming later in the day. Distant white clouds tickled the High Sierras. Luke’s stomach clenched with anticipation. Please let me find out what I need, he thought to himself as he crossed the street for the state’s building.

  An officious clerk with a brocade vest and a green visor looked up from his books when Luke stepped in.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Luke Parker, Sheriff out of Silver Creek,” Luke said as he pulled his jacket aside to expose his star. “Need to see your papers on land claims in the Silver Creek area.”

  The clerk shrugged. “It ain’t private information. Silver Creek? That up north of the Humboldt?”

  “Yes,” Luke said as he tried to hold down the anticipation.

  Turning to a large cabinet, the clerk riffled through several files until he found what he was looking for. “This might be a place to start.”

  Taking a deep breath, Luke opened the file and started going through the forms. He held his breath until he found the one for the 166 quarter section on Silver Creek.”

  “Damn,” he muttered under his breath as he looked down at the name registered as the owner of the property across from Tom Johnson’s.

  Ben Tuthill.

  Luke’s gut grumbled with confusion. Why? Why was a banker laying claim to worthless property in the middle of nowhere? And what did that have to do with the killing of Tom Johnson?

  Then, the memory of that look of confusion and open denial when asked about anyone laying claim to this piece of property. Perhaps the more important question was why had the banker lied about it and what else had he lied about?

  As Luke rode back to Reno his mind whirled with possibilities and many more questions than answers. None of it made sense. He was just passing the railroad camp when a new possibility occurred to him. Pulling his horse around, he rode into the camp. It only took a few questions before he found the man he wanted.

  Big Tim Newton sat behind a large desk covered in stacks of papers. Enough to wallpaper a good-sized barn. The man looked up with a deep frown.

  “Luke Parker, Sheriff out of Silver Creek,” Luke said as he held out his hand. “Was wondering if you could answer some questions. It’s about a murder.”

  The man’s eyes grew big for a second then he waved his hand indicating Luke should sit.

  Luke paused for a moment, wondering where to start and whether he was tracking rabbits down the wrong hole. “You’re the man to talk to about the railroad, I was told.”

  Newton nodded. “I suppose I am.”

  Luke took a deep breath. This man might have the answers he needed. Or it could be another dead end.

  “I was told you lot were following the old Emigrant trail up the Humboldt. Is that right? Or could it be possible you might take another path? Maybe out across Silver Creek?”

  The big man studied him for a long moment then shrugged his shoulders. “It ain’t been decided. Not yet. But yes, we were looking at cutting off at Peabody and heading away from the Humboldt. It would have knocked off a good fifty miles of track.”

  Luke let out a long breath. “You said, were looking at?”

  Newton scoffed. “It ain’t been decided. Not officially. But it won’t go that way. We’ll stay on the Humboldt.”

  “How can you be sure?” he asked.

  The big man smiled. “Because I’m the man who has to build it. Once the owners get my numbers, they’ll see that the cutoff doesn’t make sense. Not in either time nor money.” He got up from his desk and fished around in a pile of large maps until he found the one he wanted.

  “See,” he said as he pointed out the Humboldt River. “It’s an easy grade. If you think about it. That was why the settlers used it. We’ll put in a few bridges, but no tunnels. More twist and turns, and this long bend. But like I said, nothing more than a two percent grade. It’s the steepness that kills railroads. The wheels can’t get traction.”

  Luke studied the map for a moment. “The other course would go through here?” he asked. “If’n you were to go that way. And you’d be needing water along this track. Here maybe?” he asked as he laid his finger over where Tom Johnson’s property stood.

  The large foreman nodded. “Our beasts don’t go anywhere without water. They become a huge hunk of iron without it. That and fuel of course.”

  “The creek is the only water within a dozen miles. I imagine you’d have to put in a station. Water, fuel. And with a station comes a town?”

  Again, Newton nodded as he frowned. Obviously, trying to understand what this was all about.

  Luke paused for a long moment as he studied the map. “The papers were saying as how you lot get paid by the government giving you land along the tracks. What if someone already owns it?”

  “It ain’t an issue. They just give us some from somewhere else. It’s alternating on either side of the track. So, they just double up somewhere to make up for the shortage. The railroad is hoping to sell it to settlers.”

  Luke took a deep breath. “Just so I got this right. A man owning this land. He’d probably get wealthy.”

  Newton laughed. “Owning a town? I don’t know how he couldn’t. And it ain’t like them mining towns. They shrivel up and blow away when the ore runs dry. A railroad town. Especially out there. It’s going to be a going concern for fifty, a hundred years maybe.”

  Luke studied the map and sighed as things finally fell into place.

  “But, like I was saying,” Newton said. “We aren’t going that way. I don’t care what the bosses think. Not if they want me to stay on this job.”

  Luke nodded. “Yes, but the killer doesn’t know that. Does he?”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Rebecca finished wiping down the last table, then joined Helen in the kitchen to see if she needed any help before they closed up for the night. She wrang her hands as she looked around for something to clean.

  Helen smiled at her over her shoulder. “You are skitier than a goose on Christmas eve. He’ll get here when he gets here.”

  Sighing heavily, Rebecca nodded. Her friend was right. Worrying would not bring him home any earlier. It had been seven days of nothing, but heart aching fear mixed with hope and anticipation. They would be able to start their lives together when her Luke returned. ‘Please,’ she silently begged.

  How many things could go wrong? The Feltons could try to free their brother. Armed bandits could attack a stage hoping to take a gold shipment. A horse could trip and fall sending its rider over a cliff. There were so many things that could kill him.

  She just knew that she wouldn’t be able to settle her insides until she could hold Luke in her arms and know he was safe.

  “That’s it for the night,” Helen said as she folded her washrag and hung it over the side of the washtub. “Chester should be here any minute. He’s going to walk us home?”

  Rebecca smiled at her friend. “When are you two going to get married?”

  Helen blushed then gently swiped at Rebecca dismissively. “Don’t be silly. At my age?”

  Smiling, Rebecca shook her head. “The man is besotted with you.”

  Again, Helen scoffed, “he’s in love with my peach cobbler.”

  “A man doesn’t look at peach cobbler the way he looks at you. It’s a different kind of hunger.”

  A deep red flushed across Helen’s cheeks as she turned away.

  “I’m telling you,” Rebecca said, “he’s a good man …”

  “None better,” Helen interjected.

  “Then why not marry him?”

  Helen paused for a moment before sighing heavily. “Because he ain’t asked.”

  Rebecca smiled as she remembered how she had forced Luke into asking her to marry him. “Maybe he doesn’t know you want to be asked.”

  Smiling weakly, Helen looked over at her with fear in her eyes. “I don’t know how,” she whispered. “I never learned how to get a man. And I’m too old to start now.”

  “Helen,” R
ebecca said as she smiled gently. “You might have to risk your heart a little. But I’m telling you. The man is looking for a sign. Something to push him into taking action.”

  Her friend continued to look doubtfully but before she could answer, the front door opened and Chester Polk stepped in, dipping his hat at Rebecca before smiling broadly at Helen. “You ladies ready?”

  “I’m going over to the Jail for a moment. Jake will walk me back,” Rebecca said as she shot Helen a knowing look. The last thing her friend needed was a chaperone.

  Helen bit her lip as she nodded. Rebecca took off her apron and started for the door when Helen grabbed her arm so she could whisper into her ear, “Don’t wait up. I might be a bit late.”

  Rebecca hugged her quickly and whispered back, “Or, don’t come home at all.”

  Helen’s eyes grew big with surprise, but Rebecca could see that the thought was not a complete shock to her friend. In fact, if she would guess, it had been at the forefront of Helen’s mind for months. And it wasn’t as if the woman was a young girl. She was a woman grown and almost anything was acceptable if it led to a wedding.

  The thought of marriage filled Rebecca’s mind with thoughts of her own wedding. She had worked out the details with Reverend Prescott and his wife. it wouldn’t be large. A dozen friends or so. Helen had agreed to stand next to her.

  She wondered if the roses at home were in bloom. Those down by the creek should be. Maybe if she asked Luke, he would ride out there with her the day before the wedding so she could cut some. It would be nice if the church had some of the flowers she had planted as a young girl.

  Besides, it would be her last chance to say goodbye to the place. And goodbye to Uncle Tom. A wave of sadness filled her for a moment. Shaking her head, she forced it away as she stepped across the street to the jail.

 

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