Incident At Elder Creek

by Anna Furtado

  Chapter Four

  TUCKER FELT ANXIOUS to find herself back in the Elder Creek of the past. Her background and her livelihood should have made her excited to have this experience, but all she could think of was the menacing look on Nigel Dunbar’s face. Maybe she should avoid The St. Charles Saloon altogether. But that might prove impossible since Lily worked there. She found herself on a cart path behind Main Street and spent some time exploring it until her stomach rumbled, helping her decide her next destination. She’d go to Olivia’s, have some breakfast and see what information she might gather there.

  As Tucker sat in a quiet corner of Olivia’s place eating a plate of scrambled eggs and sourdough bread, she glanced through the newspaper someone left behind. The single printed sheet smelled of the ink running across the page to form words a little difficult to read at times because of the typeface used. The masthead clearly read The Elder Creek Weekly Star and the date at the top said October 15, 1873. If the date was correct, it certainly would clear up one mystery.

  The first article she read said a relief effort was under way to help the people of Kansas after what the piece called “the Locust Plague,” swarms of insects darkening the skies, wreaking havoc as they went. It proclaimed they ate everything in their path as they passed through an area, leaving crops—and people—devastated.

  An announcement caught her interest next. “Mister William Frederick Cody announces his show, Buffalo Bill's Wild West, coming to California in the spring of 1874, and the public is notified to prepare for the greatest entertainment ever to be witnessed in this land.” She furrowed her brow, trying to remember something slightly beyond her grasp. When nothing came to her, she stabbed another piece of her fluffy egg and brought it to her mouth as she continued to read.

  A sprinkling of local news listed a Mr. Jackson’s need for help on his ranch and indicated anyone looking for work should report to his foreman.

  The local volunteer brigade of the Elder Creek firemen would discuss whether or not to buy the new helmets available at a cost of ten dollars each at their next meeting. Each man would be responsible for the cost of his own headgear, it said.

  According to the paper, a certain Mrs. White searched for two of her prized laying hens known to escape their pen last week. If anyone sees them, the article stated, please capture them and bring them home. Their names, the article said, were Henrietta and Harriet, “...but neither one answers to her name. Mrs. White misses them and has suffered from the sale of her eggs since they went astray.”

  Tucker chuckled to herself as she shoveled in another mouthful of eggs and wondered if Olivia bought them from Mrs. White. Probably not the case, since the hens went missing a while ago.

  The final story began, “After a harrowing five months, the First Cavalry Regiment under Captain Jack has successfully returned a band of Modoc Indians to the Klamath Reservation in southern Oregon.” Some fifty Modoc warriors in northern California held off hundreds of soldiers until the military finally prevailed.

  She folded the paper and laid it at the edge of the table, feeling a wave of sorrow rush over her at the details of the last story she’d read. Like so many stories of the native peoples of the time, this Modoc tribe experienced brutality at the hands of the military. She pushed the sadness away and scraped up the bits of food remaining on her plate.

  Olivia wasn’t around when she finished her breakfast, so she left her dime on the table as she saw others do. Because she finished reading everything the Weekly Star offered, she decided to leave it for another patron. She spent the rest of the day going in and out of the shops and businesses, browsing, exchanging pleasantries with people, and finding it odd she never met another person she recognized from her own time. What was all this about, she wondered? What was her psyche trying to tell her?

  As soon as she thought it, she knew. It all contained a message and, if she could puzzle it out, it might contain the answer to what was going on. A little thrill ran through her chest. Hope, she recognized. Maybe she wasn’t losing her mind after all. Maybe her subconscious was trying to get her to listen, to hear the message, to figure it out.

  What’s the “it” I need to know? What’s the message? How can I decipher it when I don’t even know what the puzzle picture is, she wondered?

  More questions didn’t help her cause. Instead, they only added to her frustration.

  She’d be seeing Leah soon—no, not Leah, Lily. She reached into her pocket looking for her phone to check the time. She found nothing. Of course. It would be absurd to find a cell phone in her pocket in this time. She looked up at the sky to note the position of the sun.

  Now she knew there was something wrong with her mind. It was absurd that she try to tell time by the sun. She wasn’t capable of it any more than she could build a clock from scratch. As she walked along the boardwalk on Main Street, she noticed a man dressed in a suit hurrying toward her from the direction of the bank. As he drew closer, she spotted the chain of a watch looped from his waist to the pocket of his tailored trousers.

  She spoke when they met on the walk. “Excuse me.”

  He looked up at her. “Yes,” he said, wariness resonating through his voice.

  “Can you tell me the time?” she asked.

  He hesitated and she wondered whether or not he would provide the information, but he finally pulled out his gold pocket watch. He cradled it in his right palm, brought his left hand up to the case and pressed the tiny knob at the top. She heard the tick sound as the cover snapped open.

  He glanced at the face of the instrument. “Five minutes before five o’clock.” His mustache rose at the corners of his mouth as he gave her a tentative smile.

  She tipped her hat and thanked him. He stepped around her down the street, resuming his quick pace. Tucker headed back toward Olivia’s. She didn’t see any sign of Lily as she walked down the street. She hoped Lily remembered. Hoped she’d get away from the saloon. She also hoped she might give her some answers. As she headed toward the restaurant, uncertainty blossomed. How would she get answers if she didn’t know the right questions to ask?

  TUCKER STOOD UP as Lily approached her table. She held out Lily’s chair and when they were both seated, Olivia approached with glasses of lemonade and slammed them down in front of them. Some of the liquid in Lily’s glass sloshed over onto the table, but Olivia ignored it and walked off. Tucker raised an eyebrow at Lily in surprise. Lily leaned across the table and whispered, “I guess I should have told you. She doesn’t like me much.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I have no earthly idea. You’d think I was one of Madam T’s girls the way she treats me.”

  “Madam T?”

  Lily sighed. “You don’t know who Madam T is?”

  Tucker shook her head.

  “Her place is on the outskirts of town—her brothel.” She whispered the last word. “Soiled doves, women of ill repute, as some folks like to call them. Although I’ve always found them to have better morals than some other people in this town.” She glanced in Olivia’s direction, and saw Olivia’s back toward them. Lily folded her arms across her chest and snorted.

  Tucker thought this an opportune time to find out about Lily’s own job description at The St. Charles Saloon. “Then you don’t...”

  Lily’s expression changed. She looked annoyed, embarrassed, as she said, “Don’t what? Are you insinuating you think I’m—that sort of woman? I assure you I am not!”

  Tucker held up her hands. “I—I didn’t mean anything. I—I didn’t mean to insult you, Lily. I don’t know what your actual job is at the saloon. I’m sorry.”

  Lily spun her drink in her hand, letting the glass glide around in the puddle on the table.

  “Forgive me?” Tucker said, trying to catch her eye.

  Lily lifted her glass and took a sip, holding Tucker’s gaze. A drop of liquid fell into the pool of lemonade on the table. When she put the glass down, she said, “You’re forgiven.”

  Tucker
wondered whether she should let this conversation go. Change the subject. Forge ahead. Against her better judgment, she asked, “So—what is it you do at The Charlie?”

  Lily eyes went wide. “The Charlie? What a strange thing to call it. And for your information, my job is to be pleasant to the customers, give them their drinks, and encourage them to drink more. No extra benefits. Fellows want that sort of thing, most know exactly where Madam T’s is. They can go visit her for those. They will not get them from me and they know it.”

  Tucker held up her hands again, palms toward Lily. “Okay, Miss Lily, message received. I’m sorry if I offended you. I didn’t mean to.”

  They sat quietly as Olivia approached and banged their dinner plates on the table. Food rose off the dishes and fell back down into place.

  As Olivia walked away Lily said, “This is probably a mistake—coming here, I mean. Let’s eat and get out of here.”

  Tucker and Lily ate with haste. Tucker left three dimes on the table and they got up to leave. When Olivia heard their chairs scrape across the floor, she shouted to their backs, “You get dessert with dinner, you know. Don’t you want it? It’s apple pie. Fresh made.”

  Tucker halted and said, “Thanks, Olivia, but we found your dinner so filling—so delicious, too, by the way—I don’t think we have room. Maybe next time.”

  As they walked out the door, Tucker heard Olivia mutter, “Suit yourself.”

  Tucker ran to catch up with Lily to escort her back to the saloon. As they headed to The St. Charles, Lily asked Tucker how she spent her day.

  “I explored the town up by the school and followed the cart path behind the hotel. When the town grows and that cart path becomes a real street—”

  She realized her error as soon as the words slipped past her lips. Lily stopped in her tracks.

  “What do you mean?”

  Tucker felt the panic rise in her chest. “Well, er, I just meant you can’t stop progress, Miss Lily. And with the gold mine going at full tilt the town should prosper. It looks as if it already has. Who knows, in a few years that old cart path behind the main street could become an official road. Hey, maybe they’ll even call it Gold Street.” She felt pretty smug at her save. She wondered if Lily would accept her explanation and change the subject.

  “Those are pretty wild ideas.” She smacked Tucker lightly on the forearm. “I can’t imagine us needing more streets in Elder Creek. Why, we’re doing just fine the way we are.”

  Tucker said, “I saw what looked like an old jail up on the cart path opposite the school. Is that just some old abandoned building?”

  Lily laughed. “No. That’s what we refer to as our no-frills hotel. The sheriff runs the place with an iron fist. Best to stay out of trouble while you’re with us, Mr. Tucker. You don’t want to become one of the patrons of that place.”

  Lily’s remark made Tucker shiver, though she couldn’t say why. Needing a change of subject, Tucker decided to risk another question. “Lily, why do you think Dunbar is so hostile toward me? I’ve never met him before, yet he dislikes me a great deal. Do you know why?”

  “Haven’t a clue. Why does Olivia hate me, do you think? I’ve never done anything to her. This is the worst it’s been, though, I have to say.”

  Tucker registered her surprise when Lily added, “Maybe she’s taken a liking toward you, Mr. Tucker.”

  Tucker pondered it as they strolled on. “Why would Olivia be jealous?”

  “Maybe because you’ve taken up with me and she doesn’t care for you doing that, although I don’t understand why she would care.”

  “Well, you are pretty, Miss Lily,” Tucker said. She felt her neck redden and the heat worked its way around to her cheeks.

  Lily looked away from Tucker as if she were casually glancing into the shops, but they were no longer open. Finally, she said, “You flatter me, Tucker, but Olivia is a beautiful woman in her own right. Those green eyes would make anyone’s heart go all a-flutter.”

  Would they? Tucker never thought of Olivia, or Jackie, that way. She and Jackie were friends—close friends—but she never felt a physical attraction to her, certainly not the way she felt attracted to Lily—or Leah. Especially Leah. The thought gave her pause, sending her back to thoughts of her previous relationship.

  She met her last girlfriend in Phoenix. They quickly settled into companionship once the initial hot sex attraction cooled. Of course, Tucker realized afterward, her girlfriend already found someone else and pushed ahead with a new relationship. The only problem was, she did it without bothering to tell her, hastening the cooling even more. Still, that relationship felt different, a little off from the start, and they never developed a real friendship. No wonder it didn’t last.

  At least she could boast some kind of growing friendship with Leah, even if she wouldn’t allow it to blossom into something more right now. She couldn’t put someone like Leah in a position of having to decide to end a relationship because of her mental instability. She cared too much for Leah to subject her to that possibility.

  Lily and Tucker walked on in silence. When they reached the saloon door, Tucker held it open for Lily, who asked, “Don’t you want to come in and have a drink?”

  Tucker glanced at the bar and saw Dunbar behind the counter with his back toward them. “Maybe I’d better not.”

  “Oh, don’t let him keep you from coming in. Come on. Have one drink. It’s still early.”

  She tried to decipher whether the invitation stemmed from not wanting them to part company, or because her job to encourage people to come in and have a drink motivated her.

  Tucker probed Lily’s face, looking for an answer she knew she wouldn’t find.

  “All right,” Tucker said. “Maybe one drink.”

  Lily smiled and Tucker felt her stomach flutter a little at the gesture. She stepped in front of Tucker and entered the saloon. As she approached the bar, she said to Dunbar’s back, “Nigel, my friend here will have a whiskey.”

  Dunbar whirled around and leered at Tucker. For the second time in an hour, Tucker experienced a glass slammed down on a wooden surface. This time, though, she saw an empty glass. Dunbar only poured the liquor after he smashed the glass down. Good. If I have to pay for that, I don’t want him to spill any of it—even if it is the most god-awful stuff I’ve ever drunk.

  Chapter Five

  EACH MORNING WHEN Tucker opened her eyes, she never knew where she would find herself. This particular morning, she realized she’d awoken in her own time. She picked up her phone to check the date. She and Leah last spoke two days ago. Tonight they would be going to dinner together. She tried to quell her excitement. After all, she didn’t think she should be involving herself with Leah right now. Not the way Leah apparently wanted, anyway. Then the voice in her head asked the question. Why not?

  She gave the same answer since her first encounter with the beautiful and charming Leah Hudson—because she questioned her own mental state. “Well, it’s only dinner.”

  Leah said she wanted to spend the time getting acquainted. She didn’t want to talk about the revitalization project. She wanted to talk about them. She wanted to know who Tucker was. And there was the problem, looping back around on itself. Well, she’d have to see how the evening went to know whether or not Leah would ever want anything else to do with her, other than when the plumbing broke.

  Tucker pushed the thoughts away as she drank hotel room coffee and ate instant oatmeal out of a disposable cup. She booted up her laptop, opened her manuscript file and focused on her story. The present day soon faded around her and she tapped out chapter after chapter of her tale of the Colorado territory.

  When the alarm on her phone sounded, it astounded her to find she spent the whole day engrossed in her story. She saved the file, pleased with her accomplishment, and shut down her laptop to get ready for her date with Leah.

  When Tucker arrived at Leah’s house to pick her up for dinner in Portero, Leah announced a change of plans.


  “Why’s that?” Tucker asked as she helped Leah put on her coat.

  “Portero is a madhouse. I think we want to stay as far away from there as we can. Reporters have overrun the place, making getting a reservation impossible, anyway.”

  “Still nothing on the missing girl, then?”

  “The police are baffled. They’ve questioned the boyfriend again. You know, he’s actually kind of a strange character. He doesn’t have any sensible answers, but he can certainly lead those reporters in circles until even the most tenacious of them gives up.”

  “Hmm. Kind of a snake oil salesman, would you say?” Flashes of Dunbar darted through her mind but she quickly blocked out the image. Tonight, she wanted to enjoy Leah’s company and not think about her experiences somewhere in the past, whether real or imagined.

  “Yes, an apt description I’d say. Have you seen him? He’s been all over the news.”

  “No. I’ve been so busy with the town project and my manuscript, I haven’t watched much TV.” In reality, Tucker couldn’t account for some of her time, but she wasn’t about to tell Leah she spent it somewhere other than in the here-and-now.

  They continued down the walkway from Leah’s house to Tucker’s truck. Tucker opened the passenger door for Leah, and before climbing in, Leah said, “Apparently, he tried to keep under the radar, but since they’ve got him talking, he can’t shut up. Says he’s devastated at the loss of the love of his life, making pleas for her return. Funny, though. When they asked the girl’s parents about him, they merely said they kept no contact with him and preferred not to comment on any of his statements.”

  “Sounds like they don’t care for him too much.”

  “No, I don’t think they do.”

  When Tucker settled herself behind the wheel, she said, “So, if not Portero, where are we headed for dinner tonight?”

  “I made us a reservation in Pine Grove. I know it’s a longer drive, but I didn’t want to try to find a place to eat with the crowds I’m sure we’ll find in Portero. I hope you don’t mind the longer trek.”