Silver Creek (The Parker Family Saga)

by G. L. Snodgrass

  Rebecca tried to take it all in. She thought back to the insane look in Felton’s eyes when he had held her wrist. The look of a man who didn’t believe in consequences. Going after him would be like going into a dark room to hunt a snake.

  Her heart ached when she thought of Luke, he’d rushed out of here, directly into danger. Why did he have to be so foolish? This wasn’t his fight. She had wanted to run after him but Helen insisted that she stay here and out of his way.

  Rebecca poured Chester a coffee then grumbled under her breath as each minute passed without Luke returning. Her heart hurt thinking of him. What if he died without knowing how she felt? Was that right? Then the thought of a world without Luke Parker crushed her soul.

  The tension continued to build until she could stand it no more. Gritting her teeth, she plopped the coffee pot on the brazier. Her fingers fumbled as she untied her apron. “I’ll be back in a minute,” she called to Helen as she dropped her apron next to the dirty dishes.

  Her friend pushed through the batwing doors and frowned at her as she shook her head. “Don’t you be getting in his way.”

  Rebecca paused. “This isn’t Luke’s fight.”

  Helen laughed, “Honey, I never known a man more drawn to a fight. You won’t be keeping him out of this one.”

  A sudden sickness filled her as she realized Helen was right. Time couldn’t be wasted. Maybe if he knew how she felt. Maybe then he would stop from rushing into something that was not his responsibility. Maybe if he understood that she should be his responsibility.

  She darted from the restaurant and hurried down the street. In the far distance, she saw Luke stepping into the sheriff’s office with several other men. Her heart hitched as she lifted the hem of her dress and rushed towards the jail. Without knocking, she threw the door open to find Luke with his right hand raised and a gold star on his chest.

  “No!” she gasped.

  Mayor Jamison finished, shook Luke’s hand, then turned and smiled at her. “Miss Johnson.”

  Rebecca ignored him as she glared at Luke. He had the good graces to look slightly chagrined. He obviously knew she didn’t approve. But had that stopped him? No. Nothing she thought ever seemed to have any impact on him.

  Jack Strumph slapped Luke on the back then led the other men out. Each of them acknowledging her as they passed.

  “Why?” she demanded when they were alone. “Why must you always rush to jump into other people’s problems? You were that way on the trail. After that twister, my uncle was hurt, and you stepped forward to take care of his stock. Leading his wagon down the trail. The country goes to war and you leave a good home in a state not involved to go fight for a union you didn’t even think on before it started. A little girl was alone on the Oregon trail and you took the time to make her feel welcome and safe. Not everything is your problem.”

  He looked back without comment.

  “Years later,” she continued as an anger built inside of her. “The girl asks for your help and you race across the continent. A knight in shiny armor. And now. A man you barely know is shot and you take on his load. Putting yourself in danger once more. Why?”

  He shrugged.

  “I never wanted this,” Rebecca continued. “I never wanted you to be in danger. You were the only person I could think of. But if I’d known …”

  “Becky,” Luke said with a shake of his head. “It is what it is.”

  “No,” she growled putting her hands on her hips. “Don’t dismiss me. What is it about you that says Luke Parker must get involved to solve the problem? What? Do you think only you can do it?”

  His eyes narrowed as his jaw clenched. Rebecca grimaced inside. Had she gone too far?

  “A man’s got to live his life so he can sleep at night,” he said as if that made any sense.

  She sighed with exasperation. “And a woman is left to pick up the pieces,” she mumbled as she turned and stormed out, making sure to slam the door behind her.

  Chapter Twelve

  Luke’s brow furrowed as he watched Becky storm out. What was that all about? The thought of her being upset at him didn’t sit right. It made the world feel tilted to the side. But he couldn’t think on it just then. He had a man to track down.

  But her words itched the inside of his brain as he stepped out of the office. Why was he doing this? Was she right? Did he think it was because he thought every problem in the world was his to solve?

  Or, was it because of what he saw when Zion had saved his family all those years ago? A man standing alone against the wrongness of the world. He knew deep in his gut that moment on the trail had changed him as a person.

  It was also the first day he’d strapped on a gun. Determined to never be in that situation again. Alone, helpless.

  Again, when Zion jumped into a raging river to save Hanna from drowning. He’d done it without thinking it through. Because it was the right thing to do and a man like Zion could do nothing else. Luke sighed to himself, if he was half the man Zion was, he knew he could die proud.

  But the look in Becky’s eyes still ate at him. Why couldn’t she understand? If someone didn’t stand for right, then wrong became the normal. If it wasn’t cut off early, it became too hard. He’d seen it back east. The country had ended up in a civil war because the people in charge had turned a blind eye to the wrong for so long the only way to fix it was by getting half a million men killed.

  If they’d fixed the wrong earlier it wouldn’t have been near as bad. But too often, people kicked the problem down the line. Compromising, hoping it would go away.

  Like now. Mark Felton had been allowed to think he could get away with shooting a sheriff. People hadn’t told him no enough for the lesson to take. Now he was going to have to track him down and teach him right from wrong.

  When he got to the Red House, he paused outside to confirm Felton wasn’t inside waiting for him. Only when he saw the room was safe did he step inside pausing just the other side of the threshold. He shot Frost a quick glance. The bartender seemed nervous, but not overly so.

  “What happened?” he asked as he stepped up to the bar.

  Frost glanced at the star on his chest then over to a group of cowboys in the corner. Luke had already checked their horses before coming in, they weren’t Circle B men, but cowboys did like to share stories. Frost knew that anything he said would get back to Felton. And Mark Felton wasn’t the type of man you wanted mad at you.

  Scarlet was sitting on the lap of one of the cowboys. Jenna, the other girl, stood behind one, her hand on his shoulder.

  “Just so you know,” Luke said to the bartender but loud enough to be heard through the room. “Someone tried to kill a lawman. I ain’t going to take that easy. If’n they’ll do that then none of you are safe. Anyone not cooperating will be arrested for accessory to attempted murder. Full-on murder if the sheriff dies. They can rot in my cell for the next week until the judge can get here and sort it all out.”

  Frost swallowed hard.

  “Now, then,” Luke said. “What happened here?”

  Still, Frost hesitated.

  “The sheriff came in,” Scarlet said as she got up off the cowboy’s lap to start his way. “He said he was taking Felton in for beating that miner. He said it wasn’t a fair fight. He weren’t wrong. Felton hit that miner from behind for no reason, then laid into him with his boots. It weren’t right.”

  Luke nodded for her to continue.

  She shrugged, “Felton, he laughed at the sheriff, called him an old fool. Then pulled his gun and shot.”

  “The sheriff didn’t have a chance,” Frost interjected. “None of us saw it coming. The sheriff was all calm like. As if he didn’t think it were important. Felton would do a short stint in jail then it could all be forgotten. Like I said, none of us saw Felton going off like that.”

  “Sheriff Reed stumbled out and across the street,” Scarlet added with a shudder.

  “Was Troy Cooper with Felton?” Luke asked.

&n
bsp; “Yes,” Frost said. “But if you ask me, he was as surprised as the rest of us.”

  “Where did they go?”

  Frost shrugged, “They both went out the back. I imagine they’re halfway back to the Circle B by now.”

  Luke sighed, he’d feared that might be the case. Going in after Felton on his ranch all alone was going to be difficult. Especially up against a dozen men who rode for the brand. He turned to the group of cowboys in the corner.

  “You get word to Mark Felton. Tell him I said he’s a coward, liar, and no good coyote. I known mangy dogs worth more.”

  The men blanched. Those were killing words. A man could find himself dead in some ditch saying something like that. Especially about a man like Mark Felton. Out here, a man’s reputation was everything. Everyone knew everyone. A man couldn’t hide in a crowd. A coward or liar wouldn’t be trusted. He’d be ostracized, finished in this land.

  “He’s got one chance,” Luke continued. “He turns himself in and I won’t kill him. For a coward like him, it’s probably his best bet.”

  One of the older men nodded, “We’ll get him your words. We pass by that way on our way home. But he ain’t going to like it.”

  Luke scoffed as he turned his back on them and started to leave. He was almost out the door when he turned back in and addressed Frost.

  “You can stay open as long as you run a clean house. No girls against their will, no rigged games,” here he glanced over at Doc Weaver. Then turning back to Frost, he added, “and no more half-dead miners.”

  “I can’t control everything,” Frost growled.

  “You better start or I’ll shut you down. The town’s got enough saloons. No one is going to go thirsty.”

  Frost swallowed hard then nodded.

  Luke stared into his eyes to make sure the point was driven home then turned and left. As he stepped into the street, he took a deep breath. He could only hope calling out Felton worked. It would be so much better if Felton came into town after him instead of him having to go out there and carve his way through the ranch hands to get at him.

  He started across the street then thought better of it and turned for McAdam’s.

  “How’s he doing?” he whispered when he stepped into the shop. The sheriff was laid out on a table, his eyes closed, his head wrapped in bandages. Luke was relieved to see his chest rise when the man took a breath.

  John McAdams was a tall, well-built man, in his early thirties, clean-shaven, with intelligent eyes. He shook his head. “I don’t know. I ain’t a real doctor. But even if I was, I don’t know what more I could do. The bullet gouged out a good chunk of his skull but didn’t go through.”

  Luke nodded, silently encouraging him to continue.

  McAdams shrugged, “He lost a lot of blood and he hasn’t woken yet.” The man frowned with sad eyes. “Even if he does, I can’t promise he will be who he was. It’s a nasty head wound. I saw too many of them in the war. Sometimes men don’t come back from a wound like that. Not the man they were. You know what I mean.”

  A sick feeling filled Luke. That would be worse than dying. Being left alive to be a burden on others. A simpleton unable to care for himself. The thought sent a shudder down his back.

  “You was in the war?” Luke asked him.

  He nodded as he held up his right hand, missing two fingers. “Tennessee. Lost these at Vicksburg. Couldn’t pull a trigger so I got transferred over to being an orderly in the hospitals. After my enlistment ended, I got out of there and as far away as I could.”

  Luke saw a thousand miles of despair in his look. This was a man who had seen too much pain and suffering.

  “Well let me know if there is anything he needs. Anything I can do to help.”

  McAdams shrugged. “It’s up to him at this point.”

  Luke started to open the door when McAdams held out his hand to hold him back. “Are you the one who was looking into the killing of Rebecca’s uncle?”

  “Yes,” Luke said as a surge of hope filled him. “Do you know anything about what happened when he left town? Anyone following him?”

  McAdams shook his head. “No, I don’t know anything about that. But, I think you should know. He wasn’t well.”

  “What do you mean? Tom?” Luke remembered the bar girl, Scarlet, mentioning that Tom had said he was feeling poorly and holed up in a room for two days until he felt better.

  “I guess it don’t matter,” McAdams said. “Not now, me talking about him, but something was eating him from the inside.”

  “You mean for real, or he was upset about something.”

  The man shrugged. “I mean actually devouring him from the inside. I don’t know what it was but it came on him fast. The man was losing weight, losing strength and it wasn’t just old age. He had a right tender part just below the ribs. Said it had been getting worse. I can tell you, he knew he was dying. I gave him two bottles of laudanum and a couple of months to live.

  Luke rocked back on his heels. Was that why Tom had sold out? He hoped to give Becky the money for a new start.

  “Thanks, doc.”

  “I’m not a real doctor, sheriff,” McAdams reminded him.

  Luke laughed. “My father was a doctor. A right good one. But my sister knows more medicine and she’s the one I would go to if’n I needed fixing. I ain’t a real sheriff. You do the job. You get the title that goes with it.”

  As Luke crossed back towards the office, he glanced over to the restaurant. Did Becky know about Tom’s illness? No, she would have told him. The knowledge was going to hurt. She would realize the man had done everything for her, only to have it snatched away.

  An anger built inside of him. When he found the man who did this he, was going to make him pay. A man’s life should mean something. To have everything he had built and worked for taken away. It just wasn’t right.

  He stormed into the office and pulled up short as the reality finally sank in. He was the sheriff. This town was now his responsibility. And what about Becky? She was furious at him. A cold shiver passed down his spine. Had he taken on a job too big?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Rebecca took in a deep breath of night air as Helen locked up behind them. The two of them fell into a stressful silence as they started down the boardwalk. It had been like that all day. Ever since her confrontation with Luke. She couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that the man she loved was repeatedly putting himself in danger. Risking himself and any chance she had at future happiness.

  He doesn’t know, she reminded herself. And if he did, he’d probably laugh in her face. Her, little Becky Johnson sweet on Luke Parker. He’d find it amusing. The thought made her shoulders shudder as if someone had walked across her grave.

  “I thought Chester was meeting us?” she asked Helen.

  “At the stage station. He didn’t know when I’d be getting out of there.”

  Rebecca nodded as she glanced over at the Sheriff's Office. A dull yellow lamplight shone from beneath the door. Her heart stopped for a moment but she had no choice, not really. She had to tell him the truth. “I’ll meet you at home,” she told her friend then stepped off the boardwalk and started across the street.

  Her heart pounded in her chest. A dozen times she almost stopped but she forced herself on. When she opened the door, she smiled to herself. Luke sat behind his desk with a dozen wanted posters spread out in front of him. He looked up, his brow furrowing for a brief second then relaxed. Almost as if he was pleased to see her.

  “You didn’t come to dinner,” she said as she closed the door behind her.

  He shrugged, “Didn’t know if I was welcome.”

  She bit her tongue to stop from snapping at him, instead, she took a calming breath. “You know very well you are always welcome. Just because I’m mad at you doesn’t mean you can skip meals.”

  He laughed, “You sound like Hanna. She’d chew me out for some stupid mistake then plop a plate of food down in front of me.”

  Rebecca sm
iled. “That is high praise. Thank you.” A new numbness washed over her. That proved it, he thought of her like a sister.

  He studied her for a moment then said, “As for me taking this job …”

  “I don’t want to talk about that,” Rebecca interrupted. “You aren’t my husband or anything. I have no say in what you do.”

  An awkward silence filled the room. His brow narrowed for a second then he nodded and stood up to come around the front of the desk.

  “I’ll walk you home.”

  Her heart fell at the coldness of his tone. Forcing the nervous butterflies to settle down, she let him lead her out of the office and start for her and Helen’s shack.

  Why couldn’t they stay and talk? she wondered. There was so much she wanted to know. Things about his family. About the war. Had there been someone special along the way. Was he even now wishing he was there with her?

  “So, is there someone waiting for you in Oregon?” she asked before she could stop herself. No sooner had the words been uttered than she wanted to crawl into a deep dark cave and disappear. Could she be more obvious?

  “No,” he said without giving her one of his knowing glances.

  Her heart jumped with joy. At least she wouldn’t have to dread that anymore.

  “And no one in Virginia. A southern bell perhaps.”

  He scoffed. “We weren’t real welcome in Virginia. Their brothers and papas were trying to kill us, remember.”

  Her insides cringed. Of course, could she sound any more like an idiot?

  That oh so familiar awkwardness surrounded them again. Would it always be like this? Tell him that you love him, she thought. That would end this. Either that, or replace it with a new awkwardness. The kind that would drive him away.

  They continued on, silently until he stopped in front of her house. She turned to him as the moon peaked out from behind the clouds to let her see him studying her with a strange look. Her heart melted. “I’m not really mad at you,” she whispered. “I could never be mad at you. You know that.”

  He smiled just enough for her to know he was pleased.