Hope In Cripple Creek

by Sara R. Turnquist

  Katherine drew her attention from Timothy to her surroundings. Long had they left the grassy surroundings of the schoolhouse and entered the dusty streets of town as they approached the boarding house.

  “Here we are,” Timothy said, turning to face her, but not releasing her hand.

  “Yes, we are.” She glanced down at her captive hand. Why did he hold her hand so? Was it possible he maintained his interest in her?

  “What would you say to dinner tomorrow night?” His breath quickened and his voice shook, almost imperceptibly. As if he were that same young kid asking her to the fall dance so many years ago.

  Her stomach flipped. “I think that would be nice, Timothy.” Smiling up at him, she gave his arm a little squeeze.

  “Good.” He beamed. “If you need anything before then, don’t hesitate to stop by.”

  “Thanks.” She thrilled at the thought of spending more time with Timothy. He would also be an invaluable ally with Wyatt in town and on the council. Not to mention how relieved she was that their friendship was still intact despite her actions.

  With that, he released her hand and moved in the direction of the church.

  She watched him go, thankful again for her old friend’s presence and help during this transition. And perhaps the hope of something more.

  Katherine’s father would be by to collect her for dinner soon, so she’d best get out of her travel clothes and into something more comfortable. What a day it had been! The memories, the interrogation, the promise of an evening out. She stepped into the boarding house and moved toward the stairs at the back of the café.

  As Katherine passed the small mass of tables, she paused. Was that . . . ? She turned her head to get a better view of the café. It was – Wyatt and a blonde woman. But why should it stop her in her tracks? Why should Wyatt’s dining habits concern her? Still, she couldn’t help but chance another glance in his direction, letting her eyes drift over to his dinner companion. Her breath caught. His dining partner was none other than Betsy Calloway.

  Betsy hung on Wyatt’s every word, eyes glued to his face. But Katherine watched Betsy’s face, every bit as beautiful as Katherine remembered, a clear step above her peers. It irked Katherine, and she chided herself for feeling that way. She was no longer the preteen girl who felt lost among her peers. As a grown woman, Katherine had become well regarded and respected by those who knew her. Why should it matter to her what Betsy looked like? But Betsy’s presence here with Wyatt did strike Katherine.

  So, after all this time, she had finally gotten her man. Good for her.

  Katherine turned her attention to the stairs and made her way toward her room, trying, for the millionth time, to put Wyatt Sullivan out of her mind.

  Chapter 2

  Lauren Matthews sang as she worked in the kitchen, preparing her daughter’s favorite meal for her first night home. It was, after all, a momentous occasion. When Katherine moved away after finishing school, she had tried to understand. But that didn’t keep her from plotting how she might get her daughter to return home. She never dreamed such an opportunity would surface or that Katherine would be so easily convinced. Perhaps deep down, Katherine wanted to come back.

  Either way, Lauren would make everything of this opportunity to persuade Katherine this was where she belonged. It would take little effort for the town council to see that it would only be to their benefit to make Katherine’s placement at the schoolhouse permanent. She could see it all falling into place. What mother wouldn’t want her children close to home?

  Step one would be to make her homecoming as welcoming as possible. Her expert hands worked the oven, checking the pot roast to ensure the meat and vegetables were coming along. They were perfect. She closed the oven and wiped her hands on her apron. Nothing to do but wait for her husband to arrive with Katherine in tow.

  They would have their whole family gathered at the table once more this evening. David and his family would be joining them once he got off work. Now that was another issue altogether. While he had married a local girl and stayed close to home, he had also decided not to follow in his father’s footsteps as a rancher. Why he had chosen a different path as a miner was beyond her. The life of a rancher wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t all that bad either. But, oh, how she hated him working in those awful mines. Still, he earned a fair living and supported his family.

  Mining had taken this little town by storm. Since Ol’ Bob Womack discovered his lode of gold and it set off a gold rush, things had never been the same. Within the next year, Mr. Stratton made one of the largest strikes in history. In the midst of all of this, their little town had a population boom of prospectors, gamblers, and fortune seekers, all looking to make their own million-dollar claim. No, this wasn’t the same town Katherine left. Many, many things had changed.

  Cart wheels driving across the rock and dirt path outside drew Lauren from her thoughts. She set her kitchen towel down and rushed over to the window, watching as Tom helped his daughter out of the wagon before he moved toward the barn to put the horse away.

  Smoothing shaky hands over her dress, Lauren turned toward the door. How long had it been since she had seen her daughter? Too long.

  When the door opened, Lauren stood beaming, with bated breath and open arms.

  “Katie!” Lauren took those last two steps onto the porch, closing the gap between them.

  * * *

  “Ma!” Katherine walked into her mother’s arms. She needed her embrace. It must have been Christmas since she had last seen her family. As she enjoyed being caught firmly in her mother’s arms, Ma rubbed her back the way only she did.

  Katherine’s eyes watered. Why had she not made more of an effort to come home and visit? Why had she let her fears of Cripple Creek and the ghosts here keep her from her own mother’s embrace? Those thoughts dissipated as soon as they came; she was home now and all was well. Pulling back, Katherine saw that her mother’s eyes were glazed with the same tears she fought.

  “Come in, come in.” Ma pulled her into the house and closed the door. “How was your trip?”

  “It was fine. Long.” Katherine did not want to revisit her travels. First the train, then the stagecoach. She was certain her backside would be bruised tomorrow.

  “And how do you find Cripple Creek?” Ma indicated Katherine should sit at the table. She then moved toward the kitchen.

  “Quite different. But, still the same somehow.” Her mind wandered to the Cripple Creek of years past, but she forced herself to stay present.

  Ma nodded as she checked the meat.

  Katherine took a moment to close her eyes and drink in the smell of her mother’s pot roast as the aroma escaped the open oven door. But then, Ma had just asked her something. What was it? Oh, yes, Cripple Creek.

  “You wrote about this mining craze, but I hadn’t expected to see so many people camping on the main street.” It had disturbed Katherine, the number of miners fairly littering the main stretch. How was anyone to move about?

  Ma began cutting the bread on the counter. “I hope I don’t have to tell you it’s best to not find yourself walking alone at night out there anymore.”

  Katherine nodded, waving off her mother’s concern. But that’s the way mothers are. Always looking out for their little chicks, no matter how old. “Yes, mother.”

  Pa walked into the house just then, taking off his hat and hanging it by the door. “I heard another buggy coming. I think David will be by soon.”

  “Wait until you see how Jessie has grown.” Ma clapped her hands. “And Peter has started walking.”

  Katherine smiled, trying to ignore the heaviness of regret in her heart. She had missed so much of her family’s lives these last few years. Her parents visited her in San Francisco a few times, but she had only returned to Cripple Creek to see David and his family for a couple of holidays during her schooling and not at all since she completed her studies. Her mother’s comment lifted her spirits and touched her heart. Ma was such a proud gra
ndma.

  “Katie, would you mind setting the table? The good plates.” Ma glanced in the direction of the dish cabinet as she busied herself with the final stages of the meal.

  “Sure, Ma,” she said, standing.

  Katherine walked over to the same cabinet that had stood in the kitchen for as long as she could remember. She ran a hand along the front, enjoying the feel of the solid wood. Its surface smoothed even more so by additional years of wear. Once she opened the door, she pulled down enough of her mother’s good plates for each individual. These were the plates Ma reserved for special occasions. Her heart warmed that she, too, was special.

  No sooner had she carried the dishes over to the table then she heard a commotion outside, a sure sign her brother and his family had arrived. She hurried along with the silverware so her hands were free to get her hugs once the door was opened. Her hands were shaking and fumbling as she did so. Was she truly this excited to see her brother? Just as she finished placing the last piece of dinnerware down, the door was flung open. A brown-haired six-year-old girl bounded into the house.

  “Aunt Katherine! Aunt Katherine!” the wiry bundle screamed as she ran straight for Katherine.

  “Jessie!” Katherine squatted and caught the child in a fierce embrace. Her eyes closed. She wanted to etch this moment into her memory. Soon enough, the clomp of boots alerted her to the presence of her big brother. Opening her eyes, she watched over the small girl’s shoulder as David and his lovely wife, Mary, walked in.

  Mary held a squirming ball of limbs, Peter. But as soon as the door was closed, Mary turned him loose. He wasn’t free for long before Pa swooped him up for a quick hug.

  Jessie pulled back from Katherine’s embrace only to start chattering on about anything and everything. Her words spilled out so fast, Katherine wasn’t able to catch many of them.

  “Whoa,” Mary admonished. “Slow down. Let Aunt Katherine say ‘hello’ to everyone first.”

  Katherine nodded her thanks. Her mind whirled enough as it was without attempting to interpret child speak. “How are you, Mary?” She stood and gave her sister-in-law a warm hug.

  “Never better,” she said, beaming. “Glad you’re here for a while. And hoping we can convince you to stay forever.”

  Forever? She had only just arrived here. Katherine wasn’t sure if she wanted to stay . . .

  David stepped forward and embraced his younger sister. “I’ll second that.”

  Katherine smiled at her brother. He seemed tired. Not just from lack of sleep, but from continuous overworking. Was he taking on too much? She would need to remember to talk with him about that later.

  “Here’s someone else who needs a Katherine hug.” Pa came up behind her, still carrying Peter.

  “And I’m so happy to oblige.” Katherine beamed, taking her still squirming nephew from her father and hugging him to herself.

  His little arms pushed against her in protest. But Katherine knew better than to take it personally.

  The little man had some fight in him! For one so small, he was strong. “I know, I know, you want to get down. But you have to give me a hug first.” Once she had adequately tortured him with a hug, she set him on the floor and he was off.

  “Dinner’s ready,” Ma called from the kitchen. “Let’s all get in our seats.” She carried the pot roast over to the table.

  “Ma, you’ve outdone yourself,” Katherine said as she looked over the main course, her stomach grumbling. “And I’m glad you did.” She loved that her mother had made her favorite meal. Not at all surprised, but grateful all the same.

  Ma winked at her. “Now, sit down so we can say grace and get started.”

  Katherine took her seat and let her gaze wander around the table at her sweet family, all getting seated and ready to eat. This is what it meant to be home. And it was good.

  * * *

  A bright morning touched the town streets of Cripple Creek, a typical late summer day in which the sun beat down on anyone who dared venture out and about. But workmen, farmers, ranchers, and even doctors had to brave the blazing sun for the sake of their livelihood.

  On this day, Wyatt Sullivan found himself out in the heat working on his homestead. He’d recently acquired the property and had grand visions of what it could be. So, he spent every spare afternoon and Saturday here, working with his hands to reform the already sizable home into something he could be proud of.

  This property bore little resemblance to the one room cabin he grew up in. Wyatt couldn’t help the memories trickling into his consciousness as he nailed away at the doorframe. His childhood home had been small, claustrophobic. All the more so with his father’s frequent outbursts. He hammered into the boards with all his strength as an image of his father’s face filled his mind, making him bend the nail he worked on.

  He was tempted to throw the tool but restrained himself. Only then did he realize he was heaving. Sweat trickled down his face and back, soaking his shirt. But he had not been over-exerting himself. Could it be the memories?

  Closing his eyes, he leaned against the interior wall, out of the sun, and took a few deep breaths. He did his best to focus on his plans for the new homestead rather than his childhood home or his father. After some moments, his heartbeat slowed and his body calmed.

  With fresh determination, he moved back toward the doorframe and pulled out the bent nail, now useless. He reached for the box of nails only to discover it was empty. Sighing, he hunched his shoulders. No more work could be done until he made a much-needed trip to the General Store.

  Bending forward, he let the air rush out of him and drew in a deep, refreshing breath. Only then did he gather his hat and move to saddle his horse, Rusty. As much as he loathed pausing in his work, if he wanted to get anything else done today, he’d need to make the trip as quickly as possible. And so, he pulled himself up into the saddle and urged the horse onward toward town.

  He didn’t often venture out to the main streets of the small town on the weekends. As long as there were no emergencies. That was his time. And he wasn’t much of a social creature.

  Pulling Rusty up to the General Store, he slid off the saddle and tethered the reins to the post there. Nodding politely, he tipped his hat to a few passersby before heading into the store.

  Phillip Yerby stood behind the counter checking his ledger when Wyatt walked in. Looking up from his work, he waved at his most recent customer. “Good day to ya’, Doc.”

  “Hello, Phillip. How’s the store?” Wyatt liked Phillip Yerby. He was a pleasant sort of fellow. Kind, genial, only enough in your business to be neighborly.

  “Good, good. Can’t remember the last time I saw you in town on a Saturday though. Maybe when Mrs. Parsons had her baby.”

  Wyatt nodded. Now that had been a long day. “Doctoring sure keeps one busy.”

  “I imagine so.” He turned his attention back to his ledger. “I’ve heard talk you’re working out at Ol’ Bob Womack’s homestead.”

  “That I am.” Wyatt moved among the shelves, gathering the few supplies he needed. On second thought, maybe the man did listen to too much gossip. Although Wyatt’s purchase of the Womack homestead was hardly a secret.

  “I’d heard Ol’ Bob ended up moving to Colorado Springs and opening a boarding house. I guess after his father passed, they just didn’t want to try to keep up the ranch.” Yerby moved from behind the counter and appeared to be counting sacks.

  Wyatt decided he was checking his inventory. “Is that so?” Wyatt could not be less interested in what happened to Bob Womack. What had happened to the man was a shame, but his decisions were not Wyatt’s concern.

  “He sure did put this town on the map.” Yerby folded his papers and set his hands on the counter, giving up on his tallying and turning his full attention to Wyatt.

  “I’ll say he did.” Though Wyatt wasn’t sure it was a good thing the man had struck gold in the first place, bringing in the lot of fortune seekers and, eventually, the gold miners.


  “Wish I’d believed him, to tell you the truth.” Yerby gazed out the front window of the store.

  Wyatt grunted and moved toward the counter with his items in hand. He had only been a child when Ol’ Bob ranted and raved like a lunatic to anyone who would listen, proclaiming there was gold in the valley. No one believed him. Then, against all odds, he had done it. Had found gold. But then he lost it all. It was a sad tale.

  “Will that be all for ya’?” Yerby reached over and grabbed the few things Wyatt set in front of him.

  Wyatt nodded. He was all too ready to have this trip into town over with before someone decided they needed doctoring. The homestead called.

  Yerby started calculating Wyatt’s total, but stopped after the second item, looking up at him. “It just occurred to me that you and the reverend must have been schoolmates with the new interim teacher.”

  Wyatt’s face flushed at the mention of Katherine. “That’s right.”

  “Well, I don’t know what the rest of the town council is thinking, but I was right impressed with her.” Yerby went back to his tallying.

  Wyatt nodded. “I’m sure she’ll do right by this town.” He wished they weren’t talking about this. When her name came up as a prospect for the interim position, Wyatt had done everything he could to search out a better choice. But, as it turned out, she had been the only qualified teacher willing to take an interim position. That had perturbed him—to know he would have to face her again, fearing nothing had changed since the last time he saw her. Was she still angry with him? Was she still as feisty as ever? Would that still be every bit as enticing to him as it had been when they were young?

  “As far as I’m concerned, I don’t see any reason why the position couldn’t be permanent.”

  Katherine here, permanently? How would that work out? Wyatt wasn’t sure. “I guess we’ll just have to see how this interim period goes.”

  Yerby finished with the items and met Wyatt’s gaze. “You want this on your account?”