Love Finds You in Silver City, Idaho

by Janelle Mowery

  “You all right?”

  She nodded, then looked up at him. He was so handsome, so sweet. “Thank you.” She shrugged. “I don’t know why I let it get to me. It happened long ago.”

  “Actually, I think you’ve handled it quite well. Better than most people I know, myself included.”

  His voice and expression revealed his sincerity. She’d never wanted to kiss someone as much as she did—

  “Hey, you two.” Andrew had stopped on a hill looking down on them. “You coming?”

  Giving a nervous laugh, Rebekah continued their walk, picking up the pace. Nate easily kept up.

  “The necklace your father made you, it helped?”

  Drawn like a magnet, her hand went to the silver disk. “It did. When he made it, he engraved the reference to a verse on its front. Through all the pain, recovery, and difficulties, I held the ornament and recited the verse.”

  “What’s the reference?” he asked.

  “Isaiah 48:10.” She closed her eyes as she prepared to say the verse. “‘Behold, I have refined thee, but not with silver; I have—’”

  “‘Chosen thee in the furnace of affliction.’”

  Stunned, Rebekah stared up at Nate. “You memorize Scripture?”

  He grinned. “Why is that so shocking?” He didn’t wait for her response. “Mother used to help my brother and I memorize verses when we were growing up. That was one of her many favorites.”

  She smiled. “It’s one of mine now too.” She took a breath and nearly trembled. “If God chose to strengthen me by putting me through this affliction, then He must have a plan in mind, something important for me to do.”

  The thought both excited and frightened her. Would she be able to live up to the expectation? God wouldn’t have selected her if He wouldn’t help her make it through. The thought was suddenly overtaken by a new one. No matter what happened the rest of the day, nothing would dim the joy bubbling up inside. Nate was raised by a believer, and by all the evidence she’d witnessed, he was one too.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Full and refreshed, Nate took his leave from the Weaver family, still lounging next to the river, with a standing invitation to join their picnic every Sunday. Though the words hadn’t been said, he felt fairly certain he’d only be welcome if he also attended the church service.

  The idea didn’t bother him as much as it might have mere weeks earlier. Not only were the Weavers a great family, their faith, especially Rebekah’s, gave him hope that God wasn’t the wrathful, vengeful being that Nate once thought. She’d gone through an awful experience and still managed to praise God. He’d have to do a bit more thinking on the matter. But that would have to wait. For now, he had a job to do, and if he wanted to keep it, he’d better get some investigating done so he could send information to his bosses.

  As he walked toward town, he ran his list of suspects through his mind. He’d only considered Perry for a brief amount of time. Now that he knew him and his family well, there was no way Perry could be involved with fires and explosions. His partner, Reuben Buckley, still needed a bit more consideration. Though Reuben was an older fellow, Nate wasn’t quite ready to rule him out completely.

  First and foremost, he needed to find Grant Zimmer and learn what he meant by paying someone. Nate had a feeling the answer to that question would explain a great deal of what had been happening in and around the town. Since Mr. Zimmer was in the saloon the last time Nate sought him, that would be the best place to start looking.

  Finally arriving in town and wishing he’d thought to bring his horse, Nate cut through one alley and crossed Jordan Street. With the sun dipping low in the sky, the shadows in the next alley taking him to Washington Street were long and dark. Once on the boardwalk he turned to his right, and in a matter of minutes pushed through the swinging doors of the saloon. If the thick smoke clouding the room was any indication, Henry Gilmore was doing a booming business at his tobacco shop.

  Nate scanned the room. Many of the same men from the day before occupied the chairs around the tables. The boys he’d helped arrest his first day in town were involved in a poker game, a bottle of whiskey sitting between them. Two saloon girls nearby drew leering smiles from them as the ladies cheered them on.

  Nate gave them little attention as he spotted the man he sought. Sitting at the table against the far wall, Mr. Zimmer nursed a glass of whiskey. Nate wound his way around the tables, then motioned to the chair next to Mr. Zimmer. The man nodded his welcome, recognition filtering through his bloodshot eyes.

  “Buy me another drink, and I’ll let you have a seat, especially if you’ve got good news for me.”

  His words slurred, letting Nate know he’d been there a good while and didn’t need any more alcohol. Hopefully he was lucid enough to answer questions. Then again, drunken men rarely could hold their tongues. Nate hesitated. He wasn’t sure he wanted to add to the man’s inebriated state, but he also knew he’d do just that if it meant keeping the townspeople and their businesses safe. Nate motioned for the barkeeper to bring another drink as he took a seat.

  “You ain’t drinking?” Mr. Zimmer wagged his head. “Don’t know that I can abide your company if you don’t join me.”

  Hiding a shudder, Nate signaled for a second, knowing full well the liquid would never enter his mouth. He waited for the drinks to be delivered and slid a couple coins across the table.

  Once they were alone, Nate leaned back in his chair until only the hind legs touched the floor, giving the casual appearance he desired. “Not sure what good news you were hoping for. Nothing’s changed since we talked yesterday.”

  Nodding, Mr. Zimmer took a large gulp from his glass. Wincing from the burn as he swallowed, he set his drink down, yet grasped the glass like it might try to escape. “I figured. So that brings the next question.”

  “What’s that?”

  Mr. Zimmer turned his head just enough to look Nate in the eyes. “What can you do to help me?”

  What did Mr. Zimmer think he could do? Nate plunged ahead, hoping to somehow comfort him in his loss. “Other than mending or replacing the metal like I mentioned yesterday, I’m not sure what else I can do.” An idea struck. “Have you thought about contacting other mill owners? Maybe they’ve shut down or know of someone who’d sell you the parts you need.”

  Eyes flashing at the notion of a possible quick and simple solution, Mr. Zimmer’s face brightened. He shook his finger at Nate. “You’re a bright young man. How’d you like to come work for me?”

  Grinning, Nate shook his head. “I already have a job. You know that.”

  “Can’t blame a man for trying.” Mr. Zimmer took another drink. “I’ll start checking around first thing in the morning for mills that have gone out of business. Something tells me your idea will work out in a big way for me.”

  “Why’s that?”

  Pulling out a pouch of tobacco, Mr. Zimmer began rolling a smoke. “I’ve heard word that some of the stamp mills have shut down for lack of enough metal to keep them going.” He shrugged. “Surely one of them would be willing to sell to me.”

  Nate remained silent, allowing Mr. Zimmer to enjoy his smoke and drink. When he saw his companion had relaxed, he started his investigation, reminding himself to be nonchalant, if that were possible, while he pried at the truth. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Young man,” Mr. Zimmer said and clapped him on the back, his good spirits evident, “right now you can ask me anything. Go ahead.”

  With that kind of positive reception, Nate thumped the front legs of his chair onto the floor and rested his forearms on the table. “What did you mean yesterday,” he whispered, “when you said you should have paid?” He glanced around. “Paid what to whom?”

  So much for being nonchalant. That was as straightforward as it got. The urge to pray hit Nate again. That seemed to happen often since he’d arrived. This time, he gave in.

  Lord, grant me favor. Simple, but it was the best he could do in this s
ituation, especially since Mr. Zimmer sat staring at him.

  The man scratched at his unshaven face. “I actually said that?”

  Nate’s pounding heart calmed. “Yes, sir.”

  Shaking his head, Mr. Zimmer put his face in his hands. “If he finds out I said something to someone, I could lose even more.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Mr. Zimmer looked him in the eyes. “That’s what his note said. I was to pay five hundred dollars, and he’d leave me alone if I kept my mouth shut. If I went to the authorities or told anyone about the note, I’d lose everything.”

  Several thoughts tumbled over each other, all wanting answers. Nate made himself land on one. The rest would have to wait.

  “Who wrote the note? Who were you supposed to pay?”

  Blowing out a long, slow breath, Mr. Zimmer slumped. “I don’t know. The note wasn’t signed. It just told me where to take the money.” He flopped his hands on the table in a helpless gesture. “As you know, I didn’t pay. Look where it got me.”

  “Where?”

  “Huh?”

  Nate tried to slow down. His mind was darting all over the place and he had to keep his questions from doing the same. “Where were you to take the money?” He said the words slow and quiet, hoping to keep the appearance of indifference.

  Mr. Zimmer waved one hand in the air. “Someplace east of town.” He snatched up his glass and gulped down the remainder of his drink. “I didn’t pay a whole lot of attention since I didn’t plan to give the man any money.”

  “Did you keep the note?”

  “Nope.” He motioned for another drink, his hand trembling, then peeked at Nate from the corner of his eye. “You won’t tell anyone what I said, right?” He let out a shaky breath. “I can’t lose anything else.”

  Nate patted the man’s back. “You’ve got my word. Look, Mr. Zimmer—”

  “Call me Grant.”

  Nate nodded. “Grant, did the note say why they wanted money from you?”

  Mr. Zimmer rubbed his hand along his whiskered cheek. “Protection.”

  What? Nate ran the answer through his mind several times. It made no sense. “Protection from what?”

  The response he received was a shrug. Then Zimmer shook his head. “To keep from what just happened from happening, I suppose.”

  Everything started falling into place. If he’d guessed right, all the mishaps occurred when someone refused to pay. The only way to know for certain was to contact some of the others who’d endured fires and explosions. Doing so would be risky, but it was a chance he had to take.

  He reached to shake Mr. Zimmer’s hand. “I’ve got to go, but if you get another note, will you let me know? I’d like to help you if I can.”

  Grant held his hand an extra moment. “Thank you, Nate.”

  “You’re welcome.” He slid his untouched drink in front of the man. “Be careful.”

  Grant raised his glass to Nate. “I will.”

  Nate strode out of the saloon, his mind already miles ahead of him. He needed to find the owner of the sawmill that burned down the night he’d arrived. If he’d been thinking, he’d have asked Mr. Zimmer for the name of the owner. Then again, the poor man might have panicked at the thought of Nate talking to someone, anyone, about receiving notes. Much as he hated wasting time, he’d have to wait and ask Perry in the morning. Until then, he’d have to try to learn as much as he could about any of the others who’d gone through loss. Maybe the hotel owner would be open to some evening company and conversation.

  Deciding to again take the shortest route, Nate cut through the same alley as earlier. Halfway, shuffling sounds met his ears. Nate stopped and turned. Something hard slammed into the side of his left temple. Sharp pain sent flashes of light through his eyes.

  Swinging his fists in defense, Nate dropped to his knees. A kick to his side threw him to the ground. Gasping for air, he rose to his elbow and peered up to get a look at his attacker. A fist caught him on the chin, sending him backward. More fists than he could count slammed into him. His face and torso took the brunt of the blows, which came faster than he could ward off.

  As quick as the attack began, it ended. Much as he struggled to see who assaulted him, he couldn’t get his eyes to open. While one set of hands grasped his coat front, another seized fistfuls of hair, lifting his shoulders from the ground.

  “Leave.” Whiskey-laden breath blasted in his face. “Get out of town if you don’t want this to happen again.”

  “Next time, you might not get to walk away.”

  Through the painful haze, Nate made note of the two different voices. There was no doubt in his mind they belonged to the men he’d helped arrest. Then one last smash to his face sent him into blackness.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Glad she talked her mother into exchanging days, Rebekah donned her apron, unlocked the safe, and pulled out the cashbox. The look on Mama’s face told her she hadn’t fooled anyone about her excuse. Since when had she ever enjoyed or even wanted to organize the shelves in the store? But it didn’t matter she’d been found out. She was here now and might get the chance to visit with Nate again. She didn’t get much time to quiz him about his beliefs. Today she would succeed, even if it meant working late.

  The cashbox safely behind the counter, Rebekah unlocked the front door, ready for customers. She stepped away just in time to keep it from smacking her on the face. Cora rushed in and grabbed her by the arms.

  “Another note. We got another note, Rebekah. But this one sounds threatening.” She released Rebekah and started pacing, her hand on her forehead. “You don’t think we were mistaken about the first note, do you? I really thought it was telling me of an admirer. Especially when Will showed me so much attention Saturday and yesterday and told me he’d liked me for a long time.” She stopped in front of Rebekah. “What do we do?”

  All the while Cora talked and paced, Rebekah’s heart rate increased, hammering almost as fast as Cora’s words were spoken. “Where’s the note?” She had to see it. Maybe then she could help.

  “Daddy has it. He’s a mess. Panicked. We don’t have that kind of money.”

  “What?” This time it was Rebekah’s mind that raced. “What money?”

  Cora slapped both her hands over her mouth.

  What was wrong with this girl? Rebekah wondered. She grasped Cora’s wrists and pulled her hands down. “What money, Cora?”

  “I wasn’t supposed to say anything about that. Both the note and Daddy told me not to tell a soul.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. It just said not to tell anyone.” She pulled Rebekah into a hug. “I’m so scared.” She pulled an arm’s length away. “What are we going to do, Rebekah? You helped with the other note. You’ve got to help with this one.”

  What did she expect her to do? “Who wrote the note?”

  “It’s unsigned, just like the other one.”

  That’s what she figured. “What did the note say?”

  “Oh, no.” Cora glanced around. “How long have I been here?” She pulled a scrap of paper from her dress pocket. “Daddy told me to get all the food on this list and hurry back.”

  Rebekah held out her hand. “Give me the list. I’ll fill it while you tell me what that note said.”

  Cora trailed her around like they were roped together, her hands flapping in the air like she was trying to fly. “The note said we needed to pay if we wanted protection for our business. That if we didn’t pay, something bad could happen.”

  Pausing only long enough to look in Cora’s eyes and see terror, Rebekah scrambled for the last items on the list. “Bad like what? Did it say?”

  “No, and I don’t want to find out.” She grabbed Rebekah’s hand. “I’m so scared. When I read my note again after seeing this new one, the first one sounded like a warning—just a nicer one is all.”

  Rebekah had been thinking the same but held her tongue so as not to add to Cora’s fear. “What else did it say
?”

  “That we weren’t to tell anyone, or the bad things could still happen.”

  Placing the last of the items in a basket, Rebekah wondered if anyone else had received such a note, especially those who’d suffered the loss of their businesses. “How much did they want?”

  “Two hundred dollars.” Cora gulped back a sob. “We don’t have that kind of money, Rebekah.”

  She raised her brows. “No one does.” Handing the basket to Cora, she held on to make sure she had her attention. “Write what the note says on another piece of paper and get it to me as soon as you can. I’d like to see how it’s worded.”

  Cora nodded faster than a bird eyeing a scrambling bug. “I will.” She pulled the basket from the counter and raced out of the store.

  Rebekah stared at the empty doorway. Cora’s parents were well-liked in town. If someone could threaten them, then no one in town was safe, not even her own parents. Alarm raced through her. From what Cora said, no one should know about the note in order to keep them safe, yet Rebekah felt the need to warn her parents. What should she do?

  “Rebekah!”

  Daddy’s shout scared her so much, her heart nearly lurched through her chest. “Yes, Daddy.”

  “I need you in the livery.”

  “But no one’s here to watch the store.”

  “Then lock up.” Daddy’s voice almost sounded angry. “I’ve got water. Bring some bandages.”

  Bandages? She flipped the lock on the door and ran to the storage room. Oh, Lord, please let Daddy not be hurt.

  Grabbing everything she thought she might need, Rebekah raced across the alley and into the livery. Expecting to find her father on the ground, or at the very least standing in his own blood, she almost tripped when she stopped cold at the sight of her father leaning over someone lying in the bed of a wagon. Taking cautious steps forward, she recognized Nate’s shirt. Gasping, she hurried to his side.