Hope In Cripple Creek

by Sara R. Turnquist

  She closed her eyes as the lost memory came together in her mind’s eye. Betsy had refused and Katherine had been too sick with grief. But Wyatt, even with his injury, had stepped up. He hadn’t wanted to leave Ellie Mae in there any more than she had. And he didn’t. They got her out that same day.

  Katherine opened her eyes and looked across the kitchen at Wyatt. His eyes were on the floor. Was he caught in the memory too? What must it have been like to go back in after having barely escaped that horrid, dark place? To help pull out Ellie Mae’s lifeless body? With her grieving father?

  “Wyatt, I’m sorry, I . . . ”

  He raised his eyes, but looked away.

  “Wyatt, please. Let me just say how I . . . ”

  “Don’t worry yourself. It’s done.” Then he walked out of the kitchen and back to his bedroom.

  Katherine slid down to the floor. How could she have been so wrong?

  * * *

  Timothy finished the last bite of cornbread on his plate. He had been coming to the café more and more these last weeks. Perhaps for company. It became a dire need, it seemed, since . . . well, since Katherine’s return from Denver, husband in tow. How he ever survived that shock was beyond him. Was he truly over it now?

  Mrs. Abby came by and picked up his plate.

  “How was it, Reverend?”

  “Delicious as always.” He blotted his mouth with his napkin.

  Mrs. Abby put a hand on her hip and regarded him with her soft green eyes. “You know I don’t like to meddle, Reverend.”

  How was he supposed to answer that? The truth was she did stick her nose where it didn’t belong, often enough that she had a reputation for it. But instead of saying something that would upset her, he decided to remain quiet and wait for her to continue.

  “Well, I have been watching you these last few weeks and I must say you are rather dour.”

  “Dour?”

  “Yes. You aren’t yourself. And you mope about, eating here alone. Ever since that schoolteacher and Doc eloped. What a scandal that was! Here she was, courting you and then up and runs off with the doc. Shameful.”

  Timothy looked down at his hands. He did not want to have this conversation. Not because he disagreed, but because of the emotions it stirred in him.

  “But there are plenty of eligible ladies right here under your nose. Fine girls of good breeding. I’d be happy to introduce you to a few . . . ”

  That’s when Timothy stopped her. Holding up a hand, he interjected, “I thank you, Mrs. Abby. Truly, I do. But I think I need to focus on my flock right now.” He made sure his voice was firm enough that it did not invite further discussion.

  Mrs. Abby stared at him for a full ten seconds. Then she shrugged her shoulders. “If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.” Then she sauntered off.

  Even after she left, the sting of the wound she had hit on still hurt. Timothy put some money on the table and left the café. He had to get back to the one place he knew he could think things through—the church. Not only was that his place of vocation, it was where he felt the most free to be himself. To share his thoughts and feelings with the One he knew would listen. Except . . . he hadn’t been able to pray about his thoughts and feelings surrounding Katherine. Not yet. Maybe because they weren’t godly.

  When she had shown up that day, storming into the church, and it was revealed she had married Wyatt, it was the first time he had felt such an intense ache in his chest. Worse than when he thought she might die in the typhoid plague. It was as if he was bleeding out on the inside and nothing could be done to staunch the wound. He became bitter and angry. How could he come to God with such intense anger toward someone?

  She had betrayed him. He had opened his heart to her, and she had thrown it away. How he ever managed to preach those first couple of Sundays, he did not know.

  But as he wallowed in his misery over his broken heart, he began to seek answers for his questions. Why had she done this? And he knew. She had done it for the sake of the children. After all, she had even come to him and asked him to marry her. Katherine had been desperate. That must be the only reason she turned to Wyatt. Not because she loved him.

  She didn’t. She couldn’t.

  So he allowed his thoughts to dwell on her again. And he began to have thoughts he shouldn’t have about another man’s wife. But, her marriage was a sham. A front.

  And like any mistake, it could be remedied.

  Chapter 12

  A crisp, clear day settled upon Cripple Creek. Birds chirped, the flowers were in full bloom, spring was in the air. The world seemed alive and vibrant. This city, however, held its own secrets from the forward progress of nature. For within the boundaries of Colorado Springs, great tension was brewing. Men that cared not of the birds or flowers met to decide the fate of the miners and their strike.

  David and his cohorts gathered, waiting with bated breath to hear the outcome of the negotiations. For Calderwood and representatives from the Western Federation of Miners, including the former leader of the Free Coinage Union, all sat at a table with the mine bosses. What would come of it?

  The minutes ticked by into an hour, then two.

  At long last, one man hushed their chattering. And in the quiet, hoofbeats could be heard. David stood, eager to lay eyes on their leaders as they came forth. Mere minutes passed before Calderwood and his representatives stood before them.

  The miners were a roar of questions.

  Calderwood raised his hands to quiet them.

  “Men, I bring news that you may find unpalatable. They made an unacceptable offer to us.”

  A myriad of voices called out from around him.

  “An offer? What kind of offer?”

  “We want to hear the offer.”

  “Maybe we should have taken it.”

  “What a crock!”

  “Gentlemen,” Calderwood called out again, trying to silence the men. “We have refused the offer. I will tell you what I told them. We are not prepared to compromise with the livelihood of so many. You have put everything on the line for their clients. And you agreed to work at a certain rate of pay. For them to now demand you accept anything less is a breach of that verbal contract.”

  The miners did not respond. Except for some whispered comments here and there.

  Not willing to compromise? They would fight for their full pay? Would that ever happen?

  “They would not meet us there, and so negotiations ended.”

  Grumbles and shouts went up from around him. A few men stomped off from the meeting. And David understood. They had put a lot of hope and faith in these negotiations. He had, too. Why were the union leaders not willing to compromise? The miners were at this point. Striking had begun to wear thin and some of them were just as eager for a peace to be found. But they had put their trust in Calderwood and they were bound to his decisions.

  David feared it would never end.

  * * *

  Katherine bolted awake. Where was she? As she glanced around her, she saw that she still sat at her desk in the classroom. But it was quite dim. The hour must be late. How could she have fallen asleep? She had been grading papers and laid her head down for just a minute. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she looked at the clock. It was past time to get Susie and Jack from her parents’ house. Wyatt would probably beat them home, she realized to her dismay. Not only did she prefer to be home first to get the kids settled, it gave her a chance to start dinner. For whatever that was worth.

  What was she thinking laying her head down even for a second? It must have been all of the interrupted sleep these last few nights with Susie. Wyatt had been faithful to take a feeding each night, but the children took so much of her energy night and day. And then she had to continue to give the school children everything she could. She sighed. No wonder she passed out on her desk.

  Still, the fact remained that she needed to get to the livery, collect her horse and cart, and get to her parents’ house. So, she g
athered her things and made her way out into town. She became a little uneasy as she moved through the streets of the town. The saloons were quite rowdy, but she would only have to pass one. For that, she was most grateful.

  As she walked by the saloon, she made sure to stay on the opposite side of the street, hoping to avoid notice. But two men stood outside the saloon. They glanced over at her.

  She picked up her pace. But she sensed more than heard them cross the street and take up step behind her. Were they just walking the same direction she was? Or were they following her?

  Katherine pushed her pace even faster.

  They matched her steps.

  Panic filled her. Where could she go? The livery was too far away. Her mind spun. Should she call for help? Who would hear her?

  Then a thought struck her. Maybe she could make it to the clinic. Perhaps Wyatt was still there. But it was on the other side of the main stretch. She would have to turn down the alley up ahead. And the idea of going down the dark alley with these men in tow did not appeal to her. Although, if they were after her, it was her only chance.

  Grabbing at her skirts, Katherine took off in a run. She heard the men behind her break into a run as well. Turning suddenly to the left toward the alley that would take her down her short cut to the clinic, the sound of the men drew closer. They were just behind her!

  “Help!” she screamed. “Help me!”

  Her cries were cut off as one of the men grabbed her. Then her back hit the wall of one of the buildings lining the alley. Hard. A firm hand clamped on her mouth.

  Katherine’s eyes sought the faces of her attackers, but much of their features were shadowed by the darkness of the hour and the alley.

  “I’m going to move my hand. Don’t scream,” the man’s gruff voice said.

  The hand was removed and she cried out. He backhanded her. Heat exploded across her face and the ground rushed to meet her. She just caught herself with her hands. They stung from the impact.

  Rough hands jerked her back to a standing position.

  She cried out in pain.

  The hand clamped on her mouth again. Only this time, with more force. She felt as if her teeth were cutting into the inside of her mouth.

  “Do we understand each other now?” the first man asked, giving her head a jerk. The back of her head hit the hard wood of the building behind her.

  She nodded, tasting blood in her mouth.

  He slowly removed his hand.

  She remained silent, her mind whirling, trying to come up with some sort of plan. How was she going to get out of this?

  The man in front of her started moving his hands over her. “Where is your coin purse?”

  “I . . . I don’t carry one.” She prayed that was all they were after.

  “What?” He sounded angry.

  She became afraid he would hit her again. “I’m the teacher. I don’t carry one.”

  He cursed, taking his hands off her and moving a step back.

  “Maybe it’s not all for nothing,” his friend said, stepping closer to her from his position off to the right. He trailed a finger down the side of Katherine’s face, leaning in closer to her. His breath was hot on her face.

  The first man turned toward his friend, but did not move or speak.

  “Please,” Katherine pled with the first man, hoping he would be reasonable. “Please don’t do this.”

  “Oh, believe me, the begging has just begun,” the second man said, pulling her tightly against himself.

  Katherine squirmed in his arms.

  A shot rang out, hitting the wall above their heads. The men put their hands up. Katherine almost fell, but caught herself, sagging against the wall for support. Her head jerked in the direction of where the shot had come from. A figure was silhouetted in the darkness, but stepped closer, coming into a strip of moonlight. It was Wyatt! She could have cried she was so relieved.

  Wyatt held his gun trained on the two men. Jerking it to the left, he indicated that the man still a breath from her should move farther away and closer to his partner. He then held out his free arm for Katherine to come to him. Bruised, battered, and weak-kneed, she threw herself at him, falling on him more than anything else.

  He began to back out of the alley, keeping the gun on the two men. Katherine tried her best to walk along with him, but found it hard to get her footing. Together, they moved out of the alley.

  Once they were clear, Wyatt’s voice was in her ear. “Run!” he said in a harsh whisper.

  He pulled her along with him as he made his way to the clinic. Once they were safely inside, he locked and barred the door. Then Wyatt stood vigil with his weapon at the ready.

  Katherine watched him, wide-eyed, trembling from her place next to the exam table. Were they safe yet?

  * * *

  David sat on the porch next to Mary. The children had been tucked in and all seemed at peace with the world. Only it wasn’t. Not truly. For tomorrow would be another day of striking. It would go on and on with no clear end in sight.

  Wrapping an arm around Mary, he cleared his mind and drew her closer. She leaned into him, resting a hand on his chest. He kissed the top of her head.

  Here, at his home, there was no strike; there was no contention. But that wasn’t quite true either. For he carried it inside him, wearing his troubles wherever he went. How could Mary not be affected by it? Or his children not sense it?

  He sighed. “Mary, I think we need to talk.”

  Hoof beats and a horse whinnying cut him off. Someone approached the homestead. And fast. Should he get his gun? He hated being on alert and on the lookout for every intrusion to be unfriendly. Would he rather his conscience be clear or his family unharmed?

  He stood and went for his gun.

  When he emerged from the house, the rider was near. As he approached, David saw that it was his friend, Jonas.

  As Jonas slowed, David came off the porch to greet him.

  “Good evening, Jonas, what has you out and about so late? And in such a hurry?”

  “My sister.” Jonas breathed heavily, well exerted from his ride.

  “Your sister? Is she well?” Why would he not seek out Wyatt?

  “My sister works as a maid at a hotel in Colorado Springs.” Jonas managed to get out.

  David furrowed his brow, hopeful there would be more forthcoming.

  “She overheard the mine bosses meeting with the sheriff.”

  “Our mine bosses? In Colorado Springs?”

  Jonas nodded. “Yeah. Hagerman, Smith, and Moffat.”

  “Why would they meet in Colorado Springs?”

  Jonas raised an eyebrow. “Why else?”

  The hotel in Colorado Springs might have better accommodations, but it was a short trip over there. And the sheriff would need to trouble himself to sneak away. Why would they do so? Unless . . . unless they didn’t want anyone to find out.

  “What did she hear?” David’s eyes were glued to Jonas.

  “The mine bosses are intent on bringing in hundreds of nonunion workers and they told the sheriff they would fund a hundred deputies to protect their men.”

  “They’re raising a small army.” David felt the color draining from his face. What could they do against such a force?

  Jonas nodded.

  “We must tell Calderwood at once.” He turned to Mary.

  She nodded. “Go.”

  He pressed a kiss to the side of her face, handed his weapon to her, and raced off after his horse. Who knew what would come of it, but they would do what they could. Perhaps this would bring an end to the strike once and for all.

  * * *

  Several minutes later, Wyatt set his gun down and turned toward Katherine. “I guess those miscreants decided they were done for the evening.”

  He then found his way to Katherine, who leaned against the exam table in the middle of the room. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded, sniffling.

  “Can you manage to get on the exam tab
le?”

  Shifting, she worked her way up, but a whimper escaped her as she did so.

  It gave him pause and filled him with concern. Were there internal injuries? He turned on a lantern so he could examine her. He brought the light near her face.

  “Katie!” He grabbed a cloth to wipe away some of the blood that had trailed out of her mouth. One side of her face was swollen and would be bruised the next day. What else had they done to her? Anger boiled inside him as he continued his examination.

  His eyes and hands moved swiftly over her body. Nothing seemed out of place. She grimaced as his fingers touched the back of her head and her arms. His hands shook as the ferocity of his ire filled him, and he imagined confronting the men once more. As his hands moved down her arms and he began to study her hands for cuts or abrasions, he realized that she trembled.

  Setting the cloth down, he drew her into his arms. “It’s all right. You’re safe.”

  She slid off the table, clinging to him as the tears came.

  The urge to hold her tighter was almost irresistible. But he forced himself to be gentle. As she cried, he stroked her hair, pressing kisses to the top of her head. “I’m here, Katie. I won’t let you go.” How he was able to be so tender with the intense anger inside him, he did not understand.

  After some time, she pulled back, wiping the tears from her eyes. “How…how did you know?”

  His arms ached to hold her just a little bit longer, but he relented, leaning against the exam table next to her. “When I went to the livery to pick up my horse, I saw that your horse and cart were still there. So, I went looking for you. I was walking down Main Street when I heard your screams.”

  She nodded, her tears now dried. “What are we going to do?”

  Wyatt picked up his pistol. “Head home . . . carefully.”

  Katherine sniffled.

  Wyatt feared she would start crying again, but it seemed to be the last bits of her gathering herself.

  “I am ready.” She turned to face him. Her green eyes wide, alert.

  He offered her a smile. “Stay close.”