by Jo Noelle
KC stood in the doorway, and Eliza was out of her chair headed toward him when her ma grabbed her by the wrist. Eliza looked at her, and her mother just shook her head. Eliza realized she didn’t have the right to embrace KC though all her heart wanted to pour out that she was thankful for his safety, that she was overjoyed to see him, that she needed his assurance. All that would have to wait.
KC removed his hat. “Evening, Mr. and Mrs. Turley.” His eyes lingered on Eliza’s as she gazed at him, as well. “I was wondering if I might have a private word with you, sir.”
Her father stepped out onto the front porch, waving KC to go before him. No one in the front room spoke. Her mother looked worried. Ellis looked concerned, and Kailin looked confused. Eliza didn’t know how she looked, but she told herself not to build up any expectations. They could just be talking about the problems in Creede.
Soon her father returned, but KC didn’t. “You can talk to Mr. Murray for a few minutes but no longer.”
As the door shut behind her, KC said, “I need to apologize and beg your forgiveness. I had hoped to protect you by not being around you.” She thought she saw pain in his confession.
“I figured that out.” She couldn’t help buy study his face. His sharp features and piercing eyes drew her attention, but relief softened them. He stared at her for several long moments. His lips broadened, and his smile took her breath away. She tried to look down. Maybe that would calm her heart, but her eyes went right back to his. He was standing close, within a foot. She could smell the familiar scent of his soap and the leather of his hat.
“Eliza, I want you in my life.” He leaned forward and brushed her hair behind her shoulder, his knuckles grazing across her skin, leaving a trail of goose flesh. “You’re beautiful and kind. You’re a strong woman but tender, too. You’re smart and brave and a sharp shooter.”
She laughed at that. A thousand dreams of what their life together could be like rushed through her mind. She felt her cheeks warm at a few of them. She’d never considered living with a man that way before but found she greatly looked forward to it. The possibility was thrilling. She felt an ache, small but growing, to be in his arms.
He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, his warm breath blowing across her neck. “Eliza, will you marry me?”
Her stomach tingled like a thousand butterflies taking flight at once. “Yes,” she said, barely recognizing her own voice. The world seemed to melt around her and swim in a whirl with them at its center.
He hugged her to him, then angled his head and lowered his lips to hers. A moan rose in the back of her throat. She gave herself up to the sensations she was felling—the strength of his arms and the taste of his lips. When he whispered her name, pleasure shot through her chest like lightning. Then much too soon, KC loosened his hold.
“Thank you for saying yes. I love you.”
Eliza shivered at the loss of his warmth and their closeness. She looked into his eyes again. “You were right. I believe I’ve been good and truly kissed now, and I had no idea it would be like that.” That was quite the understatement. When Eliza’s lips had parted, the kiss had stolen every rational thought from her head.
KC hugged her and quickly let go. “We’d better go inside.”
As they entered the doorway holding hands, Eliza’s pa said, “Come in. I suppose you have some news for us?”
“Yes, sir. Eliza has agreed to be my wife.” His smile was broad, and his voice verged on giddy.
It thrilled Eliza to know she so affected him. Her mother and sister jumped from their chair and hugged her. Her father didn’t seem surprised at all that she’d agreed and shook KC’s hand.
Ellis appeared stunned as she looked over her mother’s shoulder. His eyes seemed to say to her, So this is how you felt when I made it official.
She hoped hers said, Yes, but I’m happy for you, too.
With a nod, his expression replied, Yes, so happy for you. We’ll still be close.
Somehow.
When the excitement settled, Mr. Turley asked KC, “You came for two reasons. Am I right?”
“Yes. I stopped by Ted’s house. They’re coming over. Do you want me to wait until they get here?”
“Yeah, let’s wait. Eliza, could you get Mr. Murray some pie?”
Eliza nodded and went to the kitchen. When she returned, she found that KC had taken the only available chair—next to where Eliza had been, and he’d scooted it closer to hers.
Ellis went to the kitchen and hauled in more chairs when Uncle Ted’s family and Michael came in the back door.
Just as they sat down with the family, there was another knock on the door. Ellis jumped up and opened it. He looked as surprised as Eliza felt to see Louise and Grant Fillan standing there.
“Come in.” Ellis stepped to the side, then looked out before shutting the door behind them.
Eliza could see tracks of tears down Louise’s face as Grant strangled a paper in his hand. Eliza threw her arms around her friend. “What happened? What’s the matter?”
Grant gave the paper to Mr. Turley. “This was tied to a rock and thrown through our window this evening.”
Louise whimpered and covered her mouth with her hands. “We’re next. I don’t know what to do.”
“We’ll tell Marshal Wheeler,” Ellis said.
“That hasn’t helped the others. It seems like someone is doing this because they know there isn’t anyone to stop it or catch them,” Grant said as he stood rigidly by the door, tight-fisted and shaking.
Eliza looked at KC. She thought he looked determined. Although she’d written for his help with this very thing, she wasn’t sure she wanted him to risk his life. But if he didn’t, she knew trouble would come to her family, as well.
“May I read it?” he asked. Mr. Turley passed him the paper. He read it once, maybe twice.
Eliza held out her hand. KC reluctantly put it in her palm.
“’Time for you to sell, or you’ll be buried. Sign the documents in Colorado Springs day after tomorrow at Colorado First Trust and Loan. Collect a hundred dollars and never come back.’”
Eliza watched their neighbors. Mr. Fillan’s arm circled his wife’s shoulders. She held a handkerchief to her face and sobbed quietly. The threats had to end.
13
KC Murray
“They’re buying land for pennies on the dollar, but they’re buying it.” KC paced around the Turleys’ living room, thinking through the latest piece to the mystery. He stopped pacing and looked at Grant. “That makes it legal. They offer a price. The homesteaders sell. No laws are broken.”
“What about Baldwin? He couldn’t have sold if they’d killed him. That’s what the letter implies. Someone died,” Eliza said.
He resumed his pacing. “Can we prove it? Where’s his body? They could be arrested for murder. They’d swing for that.” He stopped in front of Ellis as he pondered out loud. “They’ll swing for that only if there is also evidence that they were the ones who killed him, not just because he’s dead.”
Ellis interrupted. “There’s more to this. Why are they buying land, but not doing anything with it? Why the desperation? Why those pieces of land?”
KC sat back down in the chair next to Eliza and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “There’s more that I found out at the land office and when I went to see Arthur Jameson.” He told them about the telegram that was sent reporting the purchases. “I’d bet my donkey those were land purchases.” He heard MayBelle bellow at that from the backyard but continued. “That day in the land office, I looked at a map of the homesteads on the list you gave me, Eliza. They line up together like beads on a necklace. They share borders and take up the prime land on the road all the way from Creede to Lake City. Mr. Anders’ name is on nearly every parcel now.”
“If Baldwin was dead, how did Anders get his land?” Louise asked. “Isn’t that fraud?”
“Anders might get his hands slapped for fraud or buy his way out of that convict
ion,” KC answered.
“Our homestead is on that line,” Eliza’s ma said.
The room was completely silent. These were the people the angel had sent him to help. Who would be run off or die next? As much as it hurt to admit it, he said, “It is.”
“But none of the land we filed last week is on it,” Ellis added. “We’re back from that road quite a ways.”
KC was pacing again. “I kept asking myself, ‘Why does he want that route?’” He stopped in the middle of the rug. This group was too big to let out the secret of the last piece he’d gotten from Mr. Jameson. He would wait to tell that when the group was smaller. “I needed to know where the messages were being sent and when.”
“Mr. Jameson keeps a log,” Grant said. “I can try to get that information.”
“You need to be on a train. It’s the best way to keep you safe. Go to Springs,” KC said.
“They’ll think you’re doing what they demanded,” Ellis added. “And it gives us a day to figure out the rest.”
“You think they’ll believe that?” Louise asked. She wrung her hands in front of her.
KC nodded and noticed that Mr. Turley and Ellis did as well. “I think they’re very confident that their scheme will work,” KC said. “It has so far.”
The group continued to talk and formulate a plan, but KC just listened. All of that would be revised in a few minutes.
The Fillans went home. Mrs. Turley helped the cousins and Kailin get settled into bed. Michael went to stand guard. Then KC broached the subject of the missing piece. The smaller group sitting at the kitchen table included Mr. Turley and his brother Ted, Ellis, Eliza, and KC.
“I already know who offered to purchase the land and why they want it—Silver County & Denver Railroad,” KC said.
Ted whistled low, and Ellis asked, “How did you find out?”
“That’s not for me to say, but Marshal Wheeler was there when I got it, so we’re fine on that account.”
“They’re buying up ground to put a line in from the mines in Creede to Lake City,” Mr. Turley said.
“I think that’s exactly what they’re doing. Mr. Anders is behind this. Little Archie is along for anything that will make his inheritance grow, and the Holman boys are the hired guns.” KC saw the angel wink into sight by the back door. He looked around the table, but no one else seemed to notice, not even Eliza.
The old miner threw his thumb over his shoulder. “Got something to show you in the morning, and you ain’t gonna like it. It’ll help this investigation along a mite, though. Maybe you could continue this meetin’ later tomorrow. You’ll have some big news to tell.”
“What are you suggesting we do about them?” Mr. Turley asked.
“Let’s set our guards tonight and talk again after breakfast. I have one more lead to check out, and I’ll know more by then.”
The next day—well, he wouldn’t exactly call it day—the horizon had only started turning gray when he and the angel left. He rode Merlin out to his new property, following the old miner. He had plenty of time to think about this investigation. There’d been many times when some type of intervention had preserved his life. KC hadn’t made it to Kirt Alpin’s place the other night, having stopped when he heard Eliza shooting. He’d probably be dead now if he’d gone there alone. Or he might have been shot if Mr. Fillan hadn’t stopped at the Alpins’ on Sunday to see if they needed a ride. He should even count the first night he met MayBelle and the miner. He was spared that night, too.
The moon was waning, but it was still plenty light to see by with the angel’s wings glowing around him. MayBelle looked to be walking as close to the rocks as she could. There was a good six feet between her and the edge of the cliff.
“Don’t be so nervous, MayBelle. What is it you think is gonna happen, anyways?” the miner asked.
MayBelle snorted and shook her head.
“Yeah, I remember that one man who fell off the cliff. It weren’t this cliff.”
MayBelle trotted forward and made a trumpeting noise.
“I knowed he fell into a river, and his head got cut up a mite.” The old prospector filled in the rest of the story for KC. “He slept about a week, but then he woke up.”
MayBelle whinnied and kicked her feet.
“Well, I know he never could talk again, but he weren’t dead.”
KC couldn’t help thinking that maybe, just maybe, he’d drawn the short stick in the guardian angel lottery. He hoped he’d make it through this intact.
“Ha! You and me both.” The angel laughed, and MayBelle nickered.
They finally reached the opening into the abandoned mine KC had seen the other day. The old prospector pushed his finger into several round holes drilled near the opening and looked around.
“What are those?” KC asked as he watched the angel.
“Holes for blasting powder,” the old miner said. He shook his head. “And there’s a lot of them scattered here abouts.”
“You gonna tell me what their for?”
“Nope. It ain’t part of the choices you have to make.” Then without another word, he led KC down into the mine. MayBelle followed behind them. In the middle of a passageway not far from the opening, the angel stopped. “This here’s their final resting place.”
KC saw two bodies thrown in the pathway. “Baldwin and Alpin?” he asked.
“For certain sure.”
“I still don’t know who killed them. I would need witnesses.” KC took his hat off and held it on his heart for a silent moment. “Least now they can get a decent burial. I’ll bring the undertaker out to get them tomorrow.”
“Oh, tomorrow won’t be a good day for him to come.” The angel folded his arms. “The day after that would be much better.”
KC gave the miner a sideways look, and MayBelle began to nicker.
“She says that you should just trust me on that one.” The miner reached down and picked up a rock. “This here mine has a fair amount of silver still for the taking.” He handed KC the rock. “Put that in your pocket.” Then he began to lead him back out. “There’s some nice turquoise down the back, too. I reckon the people native to this place started this cave first. That stone’s right pretty.”
KC looked at the walls without noticing anything special. “Was this your mine?” he asked, walking beside him.
“It was in 1859. I had a little cabin over yonder.” The miner took on a sad expression and shook his head. “The silver I mined is still mostly here. I toiled many a day, stockpiling my findings. Never got to cash ’em in. You know how that goes—you can’t take it with you.” The prospector’s voice took on a reverent quality on the last words, then he added, “Silver rocks or golden wings? I got the better of that deal.”
Mr. Anders showed up at the Turleys’ home early the next morning to see KC. He wasn’t given a warm welcome unless the man liked looking into the business end of several gun barrels. “I have a private matter to talk over with Mr. Murray,” he told Mr. Turley, but none of the rifles lowered. Mr. Turley did ask the women to go upstairs.
“Go ahead and talk,” Ellis said as soon as they’d left.
Mr. Anders surveyed the room. KC thought if Mr. Anders had an inkling of what this particular group of homesteaders knew, he might have brought bodyguards with him that morning or not come at all. “I received a message that you’d like to sell me your newly acquired homestead. Is that right?”
KC knew the message he’d sent to the railroad had gone through, and Mr. Anders had taken the bait. The angel stood in the corner of the kitchen behind Mr. Anders and pointed to KC’s pocket, then he mimed pulling the rock out of it several times.
KC’s hand fisted around the rock. He’d put it back in his pocket this morning when he got dressed. He pulled his hand out and opened his palm wide. The egg-sized rock of pure silver sitting on it as if it had been plucked right from the middle of a fat vein.
Ellis blew a low whistle, and Mr. Turley leaned closer to get a good look. Mr. An
ders’ eyes widened momentarily, and KC could nearly smell the reek of greed on the man. When Anders reached toward it, KC pulled his hand away.
“That’s a good bit of convincing you have there,” he said. “I’m a mining man, and you have my undivided attention.”
“I’d be willing to sell if the price is right. What are you willing to offer?”
“Not one thing.”
KC’s stomach dropped. He’d hoped he had a worthwhile bargaining chip.
“You don’t expect me to buy it sight unseen. I’d need to verify that there is silver on your land. If that rock came from it, then we’ll talk.”
The angel spoke to KC. “Take him to the mine. You’ll need lanterns, but there’s plenty of silver to see. The man might be willing to turn over evidence about his partners and the murders to get that mine.”
Mr. Anders looked smug. “I’ll come by tomorrow, and you can take me to see it.”
MayBelle was bugling out back, and the angel shook his head emphatically.
“I’m not giving you a chance to tell folks in town about this before we make a deal. We go now or not at all. I’ve got plenty of witnesses here, and if we talk business, I’ll require plenty more. I don’t trust you, Mr. Anders.”
“And yet I’m the one with guns trained on me.”
“That’s right, but you came to my house,” Mr. Turley said. “We’ll be following you and provide those witnesses KC talked about. Ellis, remove Mr. Anders’ guns before we go.”
“Well, I don’t believe I’ll go under those circumstances,” Mr. Anders said. “Mr. Murray, we’re at an impasse.”
KC addressed the rest of the room. “Mr. Anders and I will go alone.” Then he turned to the man. “You can have your guns back when we return.”
“I’ll have my guns at my side if you will,” Anders said.
“No. I’m taking all the risk in this business proposition. Take it or leave it.”
“KC, you could always talk to Mitch Barkley. He’d be interested in another silver mine,” Ellis said from across the room.
“I’ll see it first.” Mr. Anders stared into KC’s face. “I accept your terms, but none of your men follow us.”
