Silver Creek (The Parker Family Saga)

by G. L. Snodgrass

  Surprisingly, the door was locked. Jake must be making his nightly round. She smiled to herself. He was so determined to do a good job. The town had been quiet the entire week. The circle B boys had stayed out at their ranch. The Feltons to embarrassed to show their faces.

  She glanced over to the restaurant to see Helen, the moonlight combining with the yellow lamplight from distant windows showed Helen’s hand wrapped through Chester’s arm, leaning in closely to whisper something to him. The man almost stumbled for a second, then smiled down at the woman next to him.

  Rebecca’s heart soared with hope and happiness. No, she’d wait for them to go on and get a bit ahead then go home unescorted. There shouldn’t be any problem. People knew Luke. No man was going to risk his wrath.

  Only when Helen and Chester turned down an alley - an alley that led to Chester’s shack - did she smile to herself. Pulling her shawl tight around her shoulders, she started for home.

  As it did whenever she was alone, her mind drifted to thinking about Luke. Where was he? What was he doing? Was he smiling? God, she hoped so. There was nothing in this world so special as Luke’s smile.

  She had just stepped off the boardwalk when the world went dark and a hand clamped over her mouth. The strong smell of Bay Rum biting the back of her throat.

  Her heart raced as she fought to understand what had happened. How? What? No, this was impossible she thought as she was lifted off the ground and drug away.

  Twisting she fought, bringing her elbow into a soft stomach hard enough to be rewarded with a heavy “umph” but the darkness stopped her from knowing where to strike next. A bag had been pulled over her head, she realized.

  A strong arm trapped her against a man’s body. The hand covered her mouth tight, refusing to budge no matter how she turned and twisted. Without thinking, she tried to bite through the bag and into the hand.

  “No,” a man grunted as he pulled his hand away, then hit her, knocking her to the ground. The punch coming from the darkness with no warning. A thousand stars erupted around her as Rebecca fought to retain awareness.

  Never had she been struck like that. The shock and shame washed through her as her mind was filled with a confusing fog.

  She struggled to understand when the man grabbed her hands and had them wrapped up immediately in a rough rope. So tight that she couldn’t even wiggle without the rope biting into her flesh.

  “No!” She screamed before once more a hand covered her mouth, followed almost immediately by a gag stopping her from calling for help. A rough cloth had pushed the sack into her mouth, filling it with a dry flour taste.

  The world spun as she tried to roll away, she must get free. She was to be married. This could not be allowed to happen. Her heart raced, her lungs strained for air and her mind whirled a thousand terrors.

  The man grabbed the ropes binding her wrists and pulled her up to her feet. She kicked out in the dark, hoping to connect but she missed and would have fallen but her attacker grabbed her arm in a vice and dragged her away.

  “Who? Why,” she gasped around the gag as she tried to catch her breath, her words sounded dull and confused, but the man simply grunted then picked her up and dumped her in the back of a wagon. The hard bed was another shock, causing her shoulder to scream with pain.

  This darkness, this unknowing was too much. Everything she thought she knew had been thrown in doubt. Her heart raced as her mind whirled. A terrifying fear filled her. She knew the stories. Women taken, used, and never seen again. They said the desert could hide a thousand graves and no one would ever know.

  But no, this was impossible. Twisting again, she scrambled to get away when her hands were pulled tight and she knew he was tying her to his wagon, stopping her from escaping.

  A sickening feeling of failure filled her. She was truly caught. A thousand thoughts flashed through her mind. The life she would not live with Luke. The shame of being taken like this. The anger inside of her with nowhere to go. All of this flashed through her mind as the wagon rocked when the man stepped up into the box.

  She must get away. How? Pulling at her hands she tugged and tugged but knew that was hopeless immediately. The man had tied her so tight. Luke, she needed Luke.

  Maybe at the end when the wagon stopped. Surely, he would free her to take advantage of her. A sudden gut-wrenching fear filled her. What if her naked, used body was discovered.

  “Please,” she begged, but the gag made it sound as if it were some foreign language.

  Taking a deep breath, she fought to calm her racing heart. She must out think her captor. It was her only hope. No one knew she was gone. Helen wouldn’t be coming home tonight. No one would know she was missing. No. this was up to her and her alone.

  What would Luke do? she wondered. No, Luke would never have allowed himself to be caught like this. A sadness fought with her anger. It was so unfair. Her attacker was too strong. Too big. God, she wished she had a gun. She’d shoot him in the back and never think on it again.

  The wagon shifted as it took a turn. Think, she told herself. Remember the turns. Remember the time. Maybe it would help her.

  Settling, she closed her eyes against the darkness so that she could remember every aspect. As the wagon bounced along the rough road, she tried to figure out who had abducted her. Was it the Feltons? Were they seeking revenge? Their brother was in prison by now. Nothing could get him out. So, it must be revenge.

  Or, was she to be used as bait? A way to pull Luke into a trap? He would be returning soon. What would he do when he discovered her missing? She knew Luke. The man would rain down destruction and doom on anyone he had thought threatened her harm.

  Who? That was all she could think about. And how could she stop them before Luke fell into their trap?

  The night grew cooler as they made their way to their destination. The wind whipped against the side of the wagon. A distant coyote yipped and was answered by another further down the trail. Her spine tingled with fear at the thought of being dumped out here, alone, bound, in the dark.

  Once again, she pulled at her bindings. But as before, she was held too tight. A hopeless feeling engulfed her as she tried to remain calm. Only a clear mind would get her out of this.

  She felt the wagon slow as the man grunted at the horses before pulling them to a stop. Were they here?

  Her mind searched for any clue. Any hint. But she came up empty of information. She jumped when the man climbed down then grabbed her wrists, untying her from the wagon.

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked into the dark.

  He ignored her as he guided her down from the wagon. Rebecca froze as she twisted her head. Roses? The distant sound of water running over rocks. A cool west wind. She was home, she realized. Her uncle’s farm. Her very soul knew it.

  He pulled at her hands, towards the cabin she would wager. Her thoughts were confirmed when she heard the door creak as it swung on its hinges. Her uncle had been talking about fixing that for a year before his death.

  Yes, she thought as she instinctively ducked her head before allowing herself to be led into the cabin. That feeling of home washed over her. Then the strike of a match and a faint yellow light through the bag over her head let her know he had lit a lamp.

  “Sit,” he grunted as he pushed her down onto a chair.

  Rebecca felt her hands being unbound only to have them tied behind the chair.

  “No, please,” she begged. “Why are doing this?”

  She had given up any hope of ever discovering her attacker when she felt him untie the gag then grab the bag and pull it from her head. The sharp yellow light burned her eyes for a moment until she could adjust. Looking up, she gasped.

  Ben Tuthill, the banker, with a gun pointed at her.

  “Why?” she asked as her brow furrowed with confusion.

  “Simple,” he said as he shrugged. “After I kill your man. I will bury you both out in the desert and no one will ever know.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight<
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  Luke’s back ached and his stomach rumbled, but he hadn’t stopped for the night. And now, finally, he was home. Stretching, he rolled his shoulders as he rode into town. People smiled and nodded as he passed. Both Scarlet and Carver stepped out of the General store and lifted a hand in greeting.

  He nodded but continued on. Becky. That was all that mattered. Once he knew she was safe and held her in his arms once more. Then, and only then would he relax.

  They could make a home here, he realized. He was accepted. A man of standing in the town. Would Becky be happier in Oregon? Or, was he taking her away from what was best for her?

  Laughing at himself he shook his head, there was only one way to know. Ask her.

  Glancing at the bank as he passed, he shook his head. Tuthill had to know that he would be discovered. That the records in Carson City would expose him. If he had any sense, he would be halfway to Texas by now.

  The knowledge that he’d warned Tom’s killer sat like a stone in his gut. Should he go after him? But that might take a lifetime and he’d promised Becky. Besides, the man could have taken off in any direction and had a good week's head start.

  The entire trip back, all he could do was beat himself for exposing his hand to the one person who should never have known of his plans. His foolishness had allowed a murder to get away.

  Looking from the bank to the jail, he saw how Tuthill had probably climbed up on the bank’s roof and taken that pot shot at him. He’d hoped that by killing Luke he could stop the inquiries and the killing would have been blamed on the Feltons.

  “Luke,” Jake called as he stepped out of the jail.

  “Hey, Brother,” he replied. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Jake smiled as he glanced across the street at Helen’s restaurant. “I understand. A man has to have his priorities.”

  With a nervous stomach, Luke swung down from the big roan and tied him off before he stopped and took a deep breath. A mixture of anxiety and hope flashed through him. Would she be mad if he said he wanted to go after the banker? The thought of Tom’s killer getting away with it ate at his craw.

  “Becky,” he called as he stepped inside. His brow furrowed in confusion when he found Helen pouring coffee to a pair of miners.

  “Luke! You’re back.”

  “Yes,” he replied. “It went smooth. Um? Where’s Becky?”

  Helen froze as she frowned. “She hasn’t come in yet. I sent Pap down to check on her at home, but she was gone. I thought you might have come home and found her. The two of you might of needed time to yourselves.”

  Now it was Luke’s turn to frown. “Not here? Didn’t you come in together?”

  Helen’s cheeks suddenly flushed red as she backed away and into the kitchen. Luke followed her, his gut tightening with each passing second. Where was Becky?

  “I didn’t go home last night,” Helen said as she looked down at the floor. “Don’t you be telling anyone, but … Chester. We’re getting married.”

  Luke sighed. He was happy for her, but that didn’t help him know where Becky was.

  “She was going to have Jake walk her home,” Helen continued. “I haven’t seen her since I closed up last night.”

  A cold shiver ran down his spine. “Tuthill?” he asked. “Has he left town?”

  Helen frowned. “What does …”

  “Helen,” Luke interrupted as he took a hold of her shoulders to make her focus. “Tell me. Has Tuthill left town?”

  She continued to frown as she shook her head. “Not as of yesterday. I saw him close up his bank at four like he does. Then he turned and headed home. Why?”

  Luke ignored her as he rushed out of the restaurant. No, this was impossible. The man couldn’t have been foolish enough to stay around. Why? He had to know that he would be arrested as soon as Luke returned to town.

  A gut gnawing fear began to grow inside of him. Slamming the bank’s door open he took two steps inside and froze.

  “Where’s Tuthill,” he demanded of the teller.

  The man shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. “Don’t know. And I got to tell you. We ain’t got no cash if you’re wanting to make a withdrawal. He ain’t been in to open the safe.”

  Spinning on his heels, Luke hurried out of the bank and around the corner towards Tuthill’s home. A small well-made house a hundred yards behind the bank. Pounding on the door, Luke yelled for the banker, but there was nothing but silence.

  Grumbling under his breath he turned and marched to the jail.

  “Becky’s missing,” he said to his brother as he stepped into the jail.

  Jake frowned for a moment then shook his head.

  “I’m serious, Brother. Becky is missing. No one has seen her since last night.”

  The color drained from Jake’s face as he jumped from behind the desk. “You take the north end,” he told Luke. “I’ll take the south.”

  “I don’t care who, you check every room,” Luke told him “And keep an eye out for Tuthill. He killed Tom Johnson,” he told him before he rushed from the jail to begin the search.

  It took them a good hour going through every room in every building. The entire time, his fear grew. With each passing minute, each empty room, he had to fight to stop from erupting in fury. Becky was gone. His Becky. No!

  After finishing the hotel, Luke stepped out to find Jake approaching, shaking his head. A hopeless fear filled Luke.

  “She ain’t here,” Jake said, “But Gomez, down at the livery, said someone stole a horse and one of his wagons last night.”

  “Wagon?”

  Jake shrugged.

  Luke’s mind spun as he tried to work it out. “They didn’t go south. I rode through the night. I would have passed them.”

  “North?” Jake asked, “There ain’t nothing up there but the Feltons and …”

  “Tom’s Farm.”

  “But why there?”

  A sudden coldness filled Luke as he realized what this was all about. The man had taken her to set a trap. It was obvious. What is more. He knew that Luke wouldn’t call in help. It would put Becky at too much risk. No, he’d known that her man would come after her alone.

  “Stay here,” he said to his brother. “If she shows up. Send word to me out at Tom’s.”

  His brother frowned. “This ain’t smart, Luke. Zion always said that the best way to avoid a trap was to walk away from it. The man will know you’re coming.”

  Luke untied his horse and swung up into the saddle. “He’s got Becky.”

  “Well, let me come along. The two …”

  “No,” Luke growled. “I don’t want her getting caught in a crossfire.”

  “Brother,” Jake pleaded.

  “Just do it my way,” Luke snapped at him as he spurred his horse into a gallop. Yes, he was riding into a trap. But what choice did he have? The woman he loved was in danger. He’d walk into hell itself if it meant getting her to safety.

  .o0o.

  Becky worked her jaw against the gag. Her mouth felt as dry as the salt flats and her throat cried for water. But the man refused to move from his perch off to the side. He’d kept the house boarded up. All the shutters closed. Even fixing the broken hinge on the southside shutter to make sure no one could see into the house.

  She could see how Tuthill had it all planned out. He had gagged her so she couldn’t call out a warning. Then placed her in a chair directly in front of the door, He had set the lamp on the table next to her. Close enough to bathe her in light when Luke rushed in. It would focus his attention. The first and only thing he would see.

  And while Luke stared at her, Tuthill would shoot him dead.

  Twisting her head, she studied him. The man displayed every indication of being afraid. Flat out terrified if she had to pick. White face. A bead of sweat forming at his hairline and running down the side of his chin. Eyes that danced, searching for danger. His fingers gripping and un-gripping his gun.

  “What?” he barked at her when he discove
red her watching him.

  She simply stared, desperate to think of some way to stop him from killing Luke.

  “It would have worked,” Tuthill said as he stared off into the distance. “I had it all worked out. Only Travers. He …” The banker shook his head. “The railroad is coming through here. Can you believe that. Right here, this farm? Your uncle was sitting on a gold mine and he didn’t even know it. Better. This gold would never run out. But he didn’t have any idea how to make it pay. Me. With my experience, I could make a fortune. Hotel, store, homes. All for rent, or selling at a huge profit.”

  Rebecca grumbled through her gag as she demanded to know more. Maybe if he told her enough she could use it against him.

  He scoffed. “Surveyors had it all mapped out. I seen it. That’s when I found Travers. Gave him the money to buy the place from your uncle. It was all … honest. We just didn’t tell your uncle what was happening. Nothing wrong with that. A man has to use information if he has it.”

  Rebecca nodded as if she agreed with him. Tuthill seemed to take her affirmation as justification for his rightness and therefore, as a reason to continue.

  “But then,” Tuthill continued, “Reed was saying how your uncle could go back on the sale if he didn’t want it.” Here the man paused for a moment as he stared at the ground. “He … your uncle … I couldn’t have that. If he found out the truth, I’d never get the land.”

  “You killed him,” Rebecca said through her gag.

  Tuthill nodded slightly. “Then Travers. He goes and sells it to the Feltons. He was supposed to bring the bill of sale to me. I paid for it. He must have told them about the railroad. Joshua Felton isn’t a fool. But Travers got twice what we paid your uncle. He thought he’d get away with it.”

  Here Tuthill laughed to himself with an evil chuckle. “The fool thought I wasn’t nothing but a banker. A civilized man.” Tuthill smiled as he lifted his gun. “He never saw it coming.”

  “Killed Travers,” she mumbled.

  Again, Tuthill grumbled under his breath. “I won’t be cheated.”

  A long silence fell over the room. “I put in a claim on the other side of the creek. And I’ll get the land from the Feltons. Just you wait and see. Felton won’t want to run a town. Oh, it’ll cost me, but I’ll get it.”