Silver Creek (The Parker Family Saga)

by G. L. Snodgrass

  “There was one girl I thought about a lot,” he said. Obviously referring to her previous question. It was as if he had been thinking about it during the entire walk and was now ready to tell her.

  Her heart fell, of course there was.

  “Golden hair and eyes the color of a summer sky. A button nose and sweeter than syrup.”

  Her heart started pounding.

  “Knew her for but a few months as a kid. Didn’t know what kind of woman she grew into. But I knew she’d be beautiful.”

  Rebecca swallowed, trying to force her voice to work. “I bet she was a brat. Always bothering you.”

  He laughed, that true Luke laugh that sent a thrill of happiness through her bones. “No, never,” he said. “Like I said, sweet. But tough, you know. A spine made of forged steel.”

  She stared up into his eyes, becoming lost in his eyes.

  “It’s always been you, Becky. You know that, right? You are the woman I judged all others by. And they always came up short.”

  Her heart stopped as she tried to right the world. But before she could understand he leaned in and took her lips with his.

  Home, she was where she belonged, she realized as she fell into his arms. Taking from him everything he could give. A thousand dreams. A thousand wishes all answered at once.

  His arms slipped around her waist, holding her close as his lips caressed her.

  She felt herself falling into a vast cavern of pure happiness. The world disappeared, everything was gone except for this man kissing her.

  “I’ve wanted to do that ever since I come to town,” he whispered.

  Rebecca laughed, “I’ve wanted you to do that since I turned twelve.”

  He suddenly frowned, “Listen, Becky, there are things about me. Things you don’t know.”

  She pulled back as she fought to steady herself. “You better not be married because if you are I will cut your heart out with Helen’s butcher knife.”

  Continued to frown as he shook his head. “No, just things. Things that ain’t all pretty. The war …”

  She let out a long breath as she laid her head on his chest. He wasn’t married, that was all that mattered. Everything else could be dealt with. Suddenly, a new terrifying thought jumped to the front of her mind.

  “Where you wounded?” she asked as she stepped back. He showed no indication. But what if he was deformed under his clothes. Nasty scars. It wouldn’t matter. But maybe that was it.

  “No, never,” he said. “Not so much as a scratch. A miracle if you ask me. Four years, a dozen major battles, and twice as many skirmishes, and I never got touched.”

  “What then?”

  He sighed, “Sometimes … During the war. Sometimes I … Lose control.”

  She felt her forehead crease in confusion.

  He let out a long breath. “Erikson, one of my buddies said his ancestors called it ‘Going Berserk,’ the world turns red and all I see is enemies to be killed. Even my own men were afraid of me in a fight. It’s one of the reasons I didn’t take this job when Reed asked me. There is no telling what I might do.”

  Luke pulled away from her, obviously ashamed as he stared down at the ground.

  Rebecca stared at him for a long moment then shook her head. “That is it? That is your big secret?”

  He sighed heavily. “Sometimes, at night. I go back to that place. In my dreams. I … I don’t know if it will ever stop. My gut tells me it won’t.”

  Her insides melted at the thought of the pain he carried every day.

  He shrugged. “Like I said, it ain’t pretty. Zion always used to say, a man who can’t control himself ain’t much of a man.”

  “So, do you think you’d ever do this to me?” she asked him hesitantly. “I mean go wild and not know it was me?”

  “No never.”

  She almost smiled. There was no way this man would ever harm her. She knew it to her very soul. But he was obviously upset about telling her his big worry. It was almost as if he was afraid she would think less of him.

  “Luke,” she said as she laid a hand on his chest and stared up into his eyes. “I am in love with you. I have always loved you. I refuse to let something like this come between us.”

  His eyebrows rose as he looked at her with doubt.

  “I tell you what,” she said as she wrapped her hands around the back of his neck. “The next time you feel this coming on. You kiss me instead.”

  “This isn’t funny Becky. You haven’t seen me when I get this way.”

  She sighed heavily. “Luke, I’ve seen a boy of thirteen do the work of two men to get his family over the Oregon Trail. I saw you swim a team of oxen across the Platte. When your world was destroyed you picked yourself up and kept going. I know you, Luke. Probably better than any person in this world. I know you are a good man. And that is all I ask.”

  Her butterflies took full flight when he stared down into her eyes with a lustful, wanting look. He had just started to lean down to take her lips with his again when the night was interrupted by someone calling, “Sheriff!” over and over.

  “What?” he yelled over his shoulder as he pulled away from her.

  Rebecca felt an emptiness wash over her as space opened between them.

  “Sheriff,” Pap Wilkins called as he half jogged closer, panting to catch his breath. “It’s Felton. He says he’s waiting for you at the Red House.”

  “No,” Rebecca cried as she reached to grab his shirt. Maybe she could stop him. This was what she had feared more than anything.

  Luke gently took her hands in his and stared into her eyes. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he said. “We have things to discuss and I ain’t finished kissing you.”

  Her heart sank, but she could see it in his eyes. They had turned as hard as granite. There would be no swaying him. Nodding, she bit her lip and stepped back.

  His eyes softened for just a moment, then instantly shifted hard again when he swung away and started up the street. He had gone but a few steps when he turned back to her. “I love you too, Becky. Words I thought the war had burned out of me.”

  Then he was gone into the night. Gone to face a man who wanted to kill him. Every instinct told her to follow. To stop him. Or if not, to help him. To face this at his side. But she knew it must be this way. Instead, she would have to spend her time waiting. Alone, wondering if the man she loved would live through the night.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Luke smiled to himself. He might be going to a fight to the death. But there was a woman back there who loved him. A woman worth the world.

  He hadn’t expected to kiss her. It hadn’t been in his plans. But something had grabbed ahold of him and refused to let go until he had kissed her.

  If he was honest with himself. Ever since getting her letter. It had been in the back of his mind. Over the years she had always been in the back of his mind. The woman he knew he was meant to be with.

  Of course, it would depend upon the next few minutes. Suddenly, he realized he had something to lose. A future worth living. The thought of Becky being left alone once again sent a shaft of fear straight through him. No. That couldn’t be allowed.

  He came to a halt and turned to examine his surrounding. He was walking into a trap. It was obvious. Where before, he might have ignored it and stormed in, started cutting down with his gun, and let the chips fall. Not now. No, it was too important that he come out the other end in one piece.

  Really, he should charge in there with a dozen men. Maybe a show of strength could get them to back down. But that weren’t the way things worked. No, the town had hired him to do its dirty work. This way they got to sleep at night with a clean conscience. And a family safe in their beds.

  “Pap,” he said as he called the man over.

  The old man hurried to him, his eyes big with expectation.

  “Troy Cooper in there with him?”

  “Yes,” Pap said. “But they’re the only ones from the Circle B.”

 
“You say that as if that’s enough.”

  Pap shrugged, “It won’t be no surprise this time. They done already know how fast you are. They know you’re coming. Yeah, I’d say it’s enough.”

  Luke nodded, he had to agree with the man. “You go in there and tell Felton I’m coming.”

  The man frowned, “You want to give him a heads up?”

  Luke nodded. “You just tell him I’m coming and if he doesn’t come out to the street then I’m going to come in there and drag him out by his ears.”

  Pap tilted his head then shrugged. “I’ll tell him. But I wouldn’t hold my breath he’ll come. He’s better situated where he’s at.”

  Nodding, Luke watched the man half run to the Red House, jumping up onto the boardwalk like a man half his age. He pulled up short just outside the door and called out. “It’s me, Pap, I’m coming in.” Pap hesitated for a moment until a faint voice said something from inside, only then did he step into the saloon.

  Once he had disappeared, Luke hurried around the back. He needed Felton and Cooper focused on the front. Frost had said that they’d escaped out the back when Felton had shot the sheriff, so there had to be a back door.

  When he reached the door, he held his breath as he pulled his gun. As always, that oh so familiar red haze threatened to descend over him. But he pushed it back. Not now. This called for finesse, not a wild melee.

  He slowly pulled the hammer back until he got that satisfying click, then gently opened the door and peeked inside.

  The place was almost empty. Frost stood behind the bar, rubbing a glass to within an inch of its life as he stared towards the front door. Felton and Cooper must be off to the side, in the corner, Luke realized. But everyone else had left, obviously not wanting to get caught in the crossfire.

  Hopefully, Pap wasn’t fool enough to stick around. This wasn’t one of them novels where a dozen people stood by as men shot at each other. No, they were too smart and had seen too many men die from stray lead.

  He held back until a cloud passed in front of the moon casting him in darkness. Only then did he open the door wide enough to slide in.

  Following his gun, he held his breath until he was sure Frost hadn’t noticed him. Only when the bartender didn’t react did he let himself relax just the slightest. Taking a deep breath, he prepared himself then slowly move forward, each step placed slowly to stop any creaks or groans.

  He was five feet in when the room opened up. And there they were, in the corner like he’d thought, facing forward, both of them with guns in their hands, ready to kill as soon as he stepped inside.

  “Don’t twitch,” he said, “or you're dead.”

  Both of them hunched as if they’d been stabbed in the back. They knew he had them dead to rights. The slightest movement and they’d be dead before they hit the floor.

  Both froze, not even breathing.

  That was the thing, he realized. These two had never really gone up against anyone who knew what they were doing. It was what he had banked on.

  “Now,” he continued, “my finger is getting itchy. I got to tell you, I don’t enjoy men waiting to kill me. I want you to slowly un-cock your guns and keep them pointed that away. I see the littlest swing and I’m opening up.”

  There was a slight hesitation. “I’m telling you, gentlemen,” he growled, “it ain’t going to take much to get me to shoot. You first Cooper, put the gun on the table and step back away from it.”

  “Parker …” Felton cursed under his breath.

  “That is Sheriff Parker,” Luke said as he watched Cooper gently set his weapon on the table and back away from it.

  Luke, twisted slightly to watch Felton when Cooper suddenly spun, a gun in his hand. Luke froze as he realized the man had one tucked into his belt.

  Instinctively, Luke fired just as the other man’s gun exploded. A sharp searing pain flashed across his left arm.

  That oh so familiar smell of burnt gunpowder bit at the back of his nose as a gray cloud of smoke filled the room.

  Felton grabbed at his moment and twisted to fire. Luke reacted without thinking and swung his gun to catch the man across the face and knock him to the ground then quickly swung back to find Troy Cooper sitting on the floor looking down at the blood bubble out of his chest.

  The cowboy looked up at Luke with a confused expression then fell back dead.

  Luke ground his teeth as he twisted back to find Felton face down, out, a nasty welt across his forehead. Cursing under his breath, he kicked the gun out of the unconscious man’s hand. Only when it was safe did he holster his own weapon.

  It didn’t have to be this way, he thought as a burning rage built inside of him. Another man dead. One more mark against his soul.

  Spitting into the sawdust-covered floor, he twisted to inspect the wound on his upper left arm. Four years of war and these idiots got him. Over what? A miner getting roughed up. How had things escalated to this level?

  “God, protect us from idiots,” he cursed as he bent down and used his good hand to grab Felton by the collar and begin to drag him out of the Saloon.

  He reached the door then turned back to Frost. “You ain’t doing a good job keeping things quiet. Dead cowboys is as bad as dead miners. Shut her down for two days.”

  “What? No …” Frost stammered.

  Luke stopped dragging Felton and glared at Frost as he felt the blood from his arm dripping onto the floor. “This ain’t the time to be pushing me. Two days. You can open sundown, day after tomorrow.”

  Luke didn’t wait to see if the man would comply. Instead, he dragged Felton out of the saloon, across the boardwalk, and into the street, not caring if the man bounced a time or two.

  A dozen people had rushed to watch. Luke noticed that Strumph and Tuthill stood outside of the General Store with Seaver. Strumph lifted his lamp and nodded to him, obviously pleased with the results.

  Pain shot up his arm with each step, He could have called for help. Now that the worst was done. But no, he needed people to see him handling this himself. If they thought he was too tough to tackle, then maybe they wouldn’t try and he wouldn’t have to kill any more.

  His head was pounding as he fought to stay focused. Felton felt like a lead weight and seemed to be getting heavier with each step. He was almost to the jail when Becky rushed to him.

  “Luke?” she gasped, her eyes instantly going to the blood dripping off the tip of his hand.

  “Get McAdams,” he grunted as he used his good arm to lift Felton up onto the boardwalk and into the jail.

  Becky stared at him, her eyes as big as dinner plates before she turned and lifted her hem to rush down the street.

  Luke dragged Felton across the wooden floor and into the cell. The man groaned when he let him drop before he turned and locked the cell door. Only then did he relax. He’d had to use his gun hand to drag the man. If he’d been confronted, he didn’t know if he’d have been able to drop the man and grab his gun in time.

  Now, it felt good to once again have the ability to answer a challenge.

  He had just plopped down in his chair when Becky burst through the door with McAdams on her heels. Her face was white with worry, but she turned and grabbed the bag from McAdams's hand then told him, “Check on Felton.”

  Luke snorted then held out the keys for McAdams.

  “You’re getting blood everywhere,” Becky said as she shook her head, shooting him a look as if she blamed him for getting shot. Turning, she poured water into a bowl then set it on the desk before dipping a cloth and getting it wet.

  He was tempted to explain himself when she ripped his shirt sleeve away at the shoulder and started to poke at his arm, making him wince.

  “I swear Luke, you make me so furious sometimes.” But she didn’t look like she wanted an excuse so he kept his mouth shut and waited for her to finish up. “They say that Cooper is dead.”

  “Looked that way to me,” he replied as he watched her tie a bandage around his arm. The wound did
n’t appear too bad. If he could keep it from getting infected, he would be fine. A sick dread filled him as he thought about the army hospitals. He’d seen more than one man lose an arm or leg after a minor wound

  “Do you think they were the ones to kill my uncle?” Becky asked as she knotted the bandage, pulling it tight. “Can we let this go now?”

  He laughed and shook his head. “I don’t know. I ain’t worked it out. And until I do. No, it ain’t at rest.”

  She sighed heavily then set her jaw and stepped back. She studied him for a moment then let out a long breath. “Why do I think it is always going to be this way? You rushing into danger?”

  He shrugged, “I can’t change who I am Becky.”

  She stared at him for a long moment then sighed. “No, I don’t suppose I would love you if’n you could. But I swear, you make it hard.

  He laughed as he felt the world return to normal. He was alive, and this woman loved him.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Rebecca bit the inside of her mouth as she and Helen walked to the restaurant the next morning. What could she do to make things better? was her only thought. How could she stop Luke from risking himself like he had last night?

  It seemed impossible.

  “Chester is riding out on the stage this morning,” Helen said, obviously wanting to lessen the tension in the air. “He won’t be back for almost a week.”

  Rebecca grunted acknowledgment but continued to focus on finding a solution.

  Helen shook her head then pointed across the street to the jail. “Go on,” she said. “I won’t need you for an hour.”

  Rebecca stopped for a second then smiled as she gave her friend a quick hug and hurried across the street. She found Luke behind his desk. The man looked as handsome as ever. He’d changed into a new army shirt. His eyes looked clear and focused as he smiled at her.

  He would have to remove his shirt she realized for her to check his wound. She felt a thousand butterflies erupt in flight. Would it always be like this? she wondered. God, she hoped so. Please let it be a long life together, she prayed. Then realized he hadn’t said anything about forever. Once again, nervous fears blossomed deep inside of her. Perhaps last night's kiss had been but a stolen moment.