Romance in a Ghost Town

by Robert P McAuley

  Before she could answer there was a tap on the screen door and the couple entered full of smiles and carrying a bunch of red, white and yellow flowers.

  “Where did you get the fresh flowers?” asked Anne as she grabbed a vase.

  Jean winked and said, “These were brought in especially for the ceremony, dear, and kept in the coolest place in town, the ice house.” She felt the petals, “And it worked.”

  “They’re beautiful. Thank you both, so much,” Anne said pumping fresh water from the sink’s pump into the vase followed by the flowers.

  They sat and chatted over scrambled eggs, sausage and toast cooked over one of the round openings on the stove. Both Bob and Anne could feel the excitement they shared with the older couple and both were determined to keep them in Rattlesnake Haven where they belonged.

  Electing to sit on the porch as they sipped coffee, Bob asked, “Cal, why do you and the group have to leave Rattlesnake Haven?” Everything seems to have settled down.”

  Cal shook his head and said, “We don’t want any trouble, partner. People might ask questions that we can’t answer and it might go bad for you and everyone else. Nope! Best we move on.”

  “And return after it settles?” prodded Anne.

  “Well,” added Jean as she sat still in the rocking chair, “that’s the beauty and the ugliness of time travel. The beauty is that we can simply come back to Rattlesnake Haven years from now when nobody would even remember us, and the ugly part is that the friends we made here, meaning you two, will be long gone and we’ll miss seeing you.”

  The reality of what she said set in and Anne gasped, “You-you mean that you would leave 2013 and come back, maybe in 2030 or something?”

  “It is the place we love, dear,” Jean answered quietly as she looked away.

  Anne felt her fists tighten as she pressed on, “But wouldn’t you rather stay here now?”

  “Heck yes,” answered Cal. “But we don’t want ta get you in trouble and one of the rules of time travel is that nobody knows about it.”

  “But, you told us about it,” said Anne.

  “Sweetie,” said a smiling Jean, “do you really think that anyone would believe you?”

  “Then,” said Bob joining Anne in pressing the conversation, “you say that you love the staunchness and integrity of the men and women of the old west and yet you are ready to give up and leave the place you love. You leave easily because you know that you can return at a later date. But,” he asked with open hands and a shrug of his shoulders, “what about us? What about your loved ones in the cemetery? What’s to say that the government won’t come in and destroy or move it like they did the American Indian? I think that the original founders of Rattlesnake Haven would be ashamed of you for walking away without even knowing what you’re up against.”

  The silence on the porch was deafening as all sat quiet and more than slightly embarrassed.

  Samson was the one who broke the spell by jumping up onto Jean’s lap and settling down for a nap. With a pet to the dog and a firm look on her face, Jean put her cup on the railing, placed Samson on the porch floor, stood and took Cal by the hand. “Calvin Sullivan, we need ta have a town meeting, pronto! We should be ashamed of ourselves and we need ta thank this here City Slicker and his girlfriend fer pointin’ it out. Now, let’s get together and fight this as a town.” She turned and addressed the young couple. “See you in about an hour. There’s gonna be a wedding tonight and we don’t want ta miss it.”

  “Well,” said Anne with a shy smile, “according to the picture, you’ll all be there.”

  It was eleven-thirty when a dusty, slim cowboy rode over to the Dust Off Tavern and entered brushing sand and dust off his chaps as he did.

  “Tim Holden,” scolded Jean watching the cowboy as she cleaned glasses behind the bar, “Don’t you come in here puttin’ dust an’ dirt all over this floor. Why, that girl’s wedding dress will be tarnished.”

  “Got company comin’,” answered the cowboy without changing his casual expression.

  “How long?” asked Cal popping up from behind the bar, a clean beer tap in his hands.

  “Maybe fifteen minutes,” he answered, “Army jeep type vehicle raisin’ a storm cloud of sand an’ waving a red flag like a bullfighter.”

  “Well,” said Cal as he stepped from behind the bar wiping his hands, “we kinda knew they were comin’, but I figured they’d come in force.”

  Outside of the lounge, throngs of townspeople were placing finishing touches on the big Christmas tree and their storefronts as two different sets of carolers strolled along the sidewalks singing and passing out treats to the children.

  “Darn!” quipped Jean as she walked with Cal, “What a time for the army ta visit.”

  On their walk they stopped in a few of the stores and houses and soon the town’s elders joined them as they arrived at their final destination: Bob’s house. Cal went up the steps and rapped on the door and Bob answered it.

  “Hey, come on in,” he said and called over his shoulder, “Anne we have company.”

  She stepped out of the kitchen and said as she wiped a strand of hair away from her eyes, “Hi. Coffee is hot and gingerbread cookies just came out off the stovetop. Perfect timing.”

  The small group entered and immediately the young couple saw a serious look on their faces.

  “Wha-Whats wrong?” asked Anne.

  “Army’s right outside o’ town,” Cal said as he twisted his hat in his hands.

  “Well,” said Bob with a grin, “let’s invite them in for a snack. They work for us, you know, and I do believe in treating our workers well. Right?”

  Anne picked up on his thread and joined in, “Right! They must be hungry. After all that’s a long drive out here. But I only made enough cookies for about thirty people. Can they wait until I bake some more before invading?”

  Cal shrugged, “Tim says there’s only one vehicle so that’s no more than four at the most.”

  Anne looked out the window. “Maybe there are more on the way? Like what happens in a movie: They’re just over the dune or something?”

  “Naw,” Cal said shaking his head, his white, droopy mustache flopping back and forth, “Ol’ Tim Holden would’ve seen them even if they was covered in sandy camo. Eyes like a hawk and he comes from a long line of trackers. Nope! There’s just one vehicle.”

  “Then,” added Anne as she took off her apron, “that’s all the cookies we need, right?”

  “Right you are, honey,” agreed Jean as she; Jane Barnes, Derma Jensen and Amy Hampton nodded in agreement. Seeing the women voting already, Cal shrugged as he looked at Tim Holden, Lew Thredsen, Aron Herkizen, Doctor Chuck Bain, Robert Owens and the final member of the town elders, George Hampton and all nodded in agreement.

  “Votes are in,” he said, “and it’s coffee, gingerbread and army. I say we beat them ta the punch an’ go out an’ greet them.” Once again all agreed and they left the house together as Samson grabbed a cookie that was set to close to the table’s edge. It was finished in a moment and he took off after them.

  Corporal Springer had stopped the Humvee at the old signpost and Sergeant Lang scanned the horizon in front of them with high-powered binoculars.

  “Town’s about ten klicks away. No activity that I can see, sir.”

  Remembering one of the technologies that the Humvee sported, Colonel Eklund responded, “Try the thermal imaging scope. I read that they can see a man hiding by his body heat.”

  Corporal Springer stifled a giggle and was rewarded with a nudge from Sergeant Lang as he responded to his Colonel, “Sir, in this heat the human body blends in with the background so the unit won’t be able to separate and indicate a target for us. I suggest we ask for a copter sweep.”

  Slightly embarrassed by his flub, Colonel Eklund said without missing a beat, “While I usually would agree with you on the copter sweep, sergeant, this is a suppressed recon mission we’re on, and I don’t wish to step it up unless othe
rwise needed. Advance slowly with caution.”

  “Roger that, sir,” he said as he looked at the corporal with raised eyebrows and both double-checked their side arms.

  The Humvee easily rode over the nooks and crevices as well as the smaller cacti and arrived at the edge of town shortly. Once again the corporal stopped as Lang used the binoculars.

  “Sir,” he said with a surprised voice, “Civilians ahead.”

  “Head count?”

  “Estimate one-five-oh plus, sir.”

  “Weapons?”

  He nodded and regretted doing so as he had to resettle the high-powered binoculars on them once again. “Yes sir, point forty-four caliber six-guns on a few of the males,” he answered as he gently unlocked the fifty-caliber machine gun on the Humvee’s top.

  Ekuland stood up and opened the top hatch as he put his binoculars up to his eyes, grinned and said, “Lock up the gun, sergeant, I don’t think we’re going to need it. They most probably carry them as protection against snakes. However do go in wearing your head protection, side-arms and flak vests.”

  He shook his head and thought, Mildred you should see this sight! Besides the horses, wagons and carriages are men, women, children, cowboys and cowgirls, all dressed up in period clothing. Boots, jeans, chaps, long dresses and sunbonnets…you would fall in love with it. He shifted his glasses to the homes behind the stores and continued his train of thought, The homes are small, colorful and quaint with outhouses and all have smoke coming out of their chimneys meaning that they burn wood to cook.

  He put down the glasses and said, “Advance slowly.”

  The entire population of Rattlesnake Haven stood in the middle of Main Street with Bob, Anne, Cal and Jean and the town elders up front. As the Humvee rolled to a stop about twenty-five feet away, a roar went up as the crowd waved American flags and surged forward with children in the lead.

  “Sir,” asked, Sergeant Lang perplexed, “what should we do?”

  “What should we do?” answered Colonel Eklund as he became Governor Eklund. “My lord, man, open the doors. These are Americans greeting us. Let’s go and join them.”

  The armored doors opened and Eklund exited first wearing his field cap rather than his helmet. He took off his dark glasses as Bob and Cal approached and watched as recognition came across their faces.

  “Governor Eklund?” said Cal offering his hand.

  “Yes,” answered the governor as he grasped his hand and they shook, “and you are who?”

  “Cal Sullivan and this is Bob McKillop.”

  They shook hands and the governor asked, “The same McKillop who purchased Rattlesnake Haven?”

  Bob grinned, “Correct, sir.”

  “Pleased to meet the man who decided to invest in a portion of our great state, sir.” He looked at the crowd and asked, “Is there some kind of an reenactment going on? I mean, with the clothing and wagons and stuff?”

  “No,” said Bob. Outside of me and my gal getting married today, that is.”

  “And it being Christmas Eve,” added Jean as she offered her hand and introduced herself as they shook, “Jean Sullivan, this ol’ cusses wife,” she said grinning at Cal.

  “And where is the future, Mrs. McKillop?” the governor asked.

  Anne stepped forward and offered her hand as she said, “Anne Dallas. Pleased to meet you again, Governor.”

  The governor squinted at her and said, “Anne Dallas? Sounds familiar. When did we meet, Anne?”

  “I interviewed you right after you were elected governor.”

  He raised his eyebrows, “Yes! I remember. You were nervous, as it was one of your first interviews. Right?”

  “Great memory, sir” she said smiling.

  They shook hands as he thought; now I know why her name sounded familiar to me when Terry named her as a conspirator. That title somehow doesn’t seem to fit her though.

  “And,” asked Bob breaking the governor’s train of thought, “to what do we owe the honor of your visit, governor?”

  “Well, to say that I was in the area and decided to drop in would be a bit of a lie. Actually, I was with the 106 th Army National Guard unit on maneuvers and heard more than a little about your town, so I decided to see it for myself.”

  Bob seized the opportunity, “Then, lets give you the grand tour.”

  “Lead the way,” answered the governor as he turned to the two army men and said, “Sergeant, Corporal, the town’s mayor is going to show me the town. You can wait by the vehicle or stroll around and get yourselves some lunch. If you are in contact with HQ, assure them that all is well.” He turned to Bob and with a nod they stepped off. Noting that Bob and Cal carried sidearm’s, he felt better to be wearing his Glock and made sure that it was visible as he thought with an inner grin, Wish I had spent some more time at the shooting range.

  Escorted by Bob, Anne, Cal and Jean, Governor Eklund was taken into almost every store, and each of the store owners were only too happy to show him their store and goods. At the stables he stopped by a gray and white pony and petting it said, “Boy, I’d love to give my daughters a ride on a pony.”

  “Then why don’t ya?” asked Tim as he brushed it down. “We got some small saddles fer little ones.”

  “Well, ah, well, it’s because we’re always so busy and there just aren’t too many stables around Carson City these days.”

  “So,” quipped Anne, “your daughters will never have the chance to experience the thrill that hundreds of thousands of other young ladies have experienced growing up in Nevada?”

  The governor looked down at the ground and in a muffled voice admitted, “Ah, I guess not.”

  “Shucks, governor,” said Jean, “it ain’t but one hundred miles from here ta Carson City. I know; I did it many times.”

  Getting interested in it, Eklund asked as he petted the small horse, “But, whose pony is it anyway?”

  “Heck,” answered Tim, “it belongs to Rattlesnake Haven and anyone can just come in and ride her.”

  “Well,” answered the smiling governor, “maybe we will. Maybe we will at that.”

  Close to their house, Anne looked at her watch and said, “My gingerbread cookies are probably cool enough to eat now and I propose we stop and have a cup of coffee with them.”

  “I’m on,” said the governor as he removed his hat and wiped his neck with his handkerchief, “The Guard makes good coffee but it’s not easy to drink one in a bouncing Humvee.”

  Laughing, they walked off Main Street and behind the businesses to the well-groomed, sandy path that led them to the row of houses. Eklund was surprised at how well kept they all were with small whitewashed stones marking walkways. Now I wish I had brought Mildred along, he thought as he knocked the sand off his boots on the porch of Bob’s house.

  Once inside, they sat in the living room as Anne served coffee, tea and gingerbread cookies. As usual there was a low fire in the fireplace but with the windows open the house was still on the cool side.

  “This is beautiful!” said the impressed governor, “It’s like an old west picture-book come alive.”

  “I know,” said Bob as he took the easy chair facing his visitor and Anne passed around a plate of cookies. “That’s the same feeling I got when I first saw the place.”

  The governor took a mug of coffee and asked; “I understand that you purchased it from Mister Bensen, the real estate developer.”

  “Yep!” quipped Bob, “Nice guy.”

  “Never met him myself,” said Eklund, “How long have you two known each other?”

  “The first time I met Jim was when I came to Nevada about a half a year ago. I saw an advertisement for his Real Estate place and contacted him asking if he knew of any ghost towns for sale. He told me about this place and I came, I bought and I fixed.”

  Looking around, the governor said, “Well, from pictures I’ve seen of old ghost towns, you fixed it up real good.” He sat back in the easy chair and scratched his head then sat forward and said, �
�Bob, am I right in saying that Rattlesnake Haven is nothing more than a small town that invites tours to come in and stay a bit?”

  Bob answered with a shrug, “Of course. What more could it be?”

  Eklund held up his hand and went on, “And am I right in saying that you reopened the silver mine and are working it?”

  “No,” said Bob with a big grin. “Governor that mine has been closed for years and is dangerous. Nobody is allowed to go in it.” His brow became furrowed as he asked, “Where did you ever get that idea?”

  The governor blew through pursed lips as he went on, “Let me just get a few things straight first. If the mine is closed, where do you get the silver to create the jewelry from?”

  “One of the cowboys followed some wild horses into a box canyon on my property and discovered silver there. No big mystery.”

  “And you brought in some laborers to mine it for you?”

  “Laborers? My gosh, governor, these are retired folks who love the old west and asked if they could live here. They go out to the canyon and pick it up, bring it back and we give it to the small art group that creates the jewelry to sell over in Bransville.”

  Feeling that he was barking up the wrong tree, Eklund asked, “And do what with the money?”

  “Do what with it?” asked Bob sitting back in his chair, “Governor, we use it to buy supplies so the town is self-sufficient.” Bob sat forward with a serious look on his face and said, “Governor, there is nothing illegal going on here in Rattlesnake Haven. Every one of the townspeople are god-fearing, peace-loving citizens of the United States. All of us are hard working and enjoy living as our forefathers did. That’s all.”

  Sitting forward as well, he asked Bob pointedly, “Then tell me about the sequential numbers on the fresh bills that they use when they’re in town buying supplies. I mean, it’s legal, but rare and some could picture that as a form of money laundering.”

  Bob shrugged and looked around for Cal. Jean took this moment to put her teacup down and say, “Cal will be right back with them answers.” She looked at the governor and said with a smile, “Would you like another cookie, dear?”