Gold Miner’s Daughter
Contemporary Western Fiction
Synopsis
Fresh from the Korean War and seeking refuge in the Alaskan goldfields near the Canadian border, Wyatt finds unexpected purpose working for the captivating Amy Crockett and her mining family. But when Amy’s brother is found murdered and Wyatt becomes the prime suspect, he must use his law enforcement background to clear his name and protect the woman who’s stolen his heart.
Excerpt
At the day’s end, I walked upstream on Poker Creek, following a road in the water almost as much as out. I spotted Ricky sitting at the campfire, roasting a hot dog. A can of pork and beans sat on a hot rock beside the fire.
One glance at their operation with several acres of bulldozed land made me aware of what it took to create a working claim. It required laborers and equipment like their big D8 Cat, which I can’t afford. I’m five or six years away from matching their operation. A guy could pick up most of that stuff from quitters, who outnumbered start-ups.
Ricky favored Amy’s looks, taller and without her shape, sporting a beard and a mustache. The wavy hair and color, an easy smile, and gleaming blue eyes marked them as siblings.
He jumped from the camp chair and grabbed a shotgun when I hollered, “Howdy.” He recognized me, leaned the gun against a barrel, and welcomed me to camp.
“Pull up a stump. Have you had a bite?”
“Nothing since breakfast.” I dropped on a stump stool.
Roughing It
Ricky dug into a canvas bag and came out with a blue-speckled enamel plate and a spoon. He handed them over. “Cut you a willow stick and toast yourself a dog. There’s bread in the sack and cold beer in the creek.”
“I’ll drink water, but thanks.” My host used a gloved hand to pick up the hot beans and poured some on a plate. I walked to the spring with a coffee cup, dipped some water, and cut a willow branch with my knife.
Ricky stared into the fire. After I took a seat, he said, “I guess you heard about Tim going missing.”
Build-wise, Tim looked a lot like Ricky, skinnier with dark hair, and his facial features chiseled with harder lines, taking after his father. Amy, Ricky, and Doug, I assumed, favored their Ma, someone not as slim, with a rounder face and freckles.
“Yes, sir. Gene brought the lawman up to my place, checking for him.”
“They came by here also, and Officer Robbie walked up to the road on the trail.”
On foot, the shortest distance to Chicken was to hike to the highway and take it back. A wide spot in the road made a place to park a car.
From my claim, I could take a shortcut trail southeast over a rise to Crocketts’. Most walking paths started as game trails, which tended to wander and not take the most direct route.
Stabbing a hotdog on a stick, I shoved it in the fire. Being hungry, I preferred charred some over slow roasted.
“You know of any trouble Tim had with anyone?”
Ricky sipped on his Oly and turned his head. “Wyatt, you’re sounding like a cop.”
“Sorry, an old habit.”
“How’s that?” Ricky put his empty plate on another stump serving as an end table. I scooped a spoonful of beans while keeping an eye on my wiener. I talked little about my past.
In the bush, people considered it impolite to inquire about a person’s history. Laboring in a mining camp, folks found how hard and smart you worked more important. Everyone expected peculiarities, and lord knows, I arrived in Alaska with my fair share.
“Before the war in Korea, my uncle hired me out of high school to serve and protect the good people of Parker County as a deputy sheriff. As the sheriff, it was his prerogative. I turned eighteen during my training. I quit a year later and joined the Army. They sent me to Fort Benning to learn how to jump out of airplanes. The wrong time for me to discover I didn’t like to fly. Then, the war broke out in Korea.
“After I mustered out, I hired on with the Fort Worth PD. Being a veteran, tall, born in Texas, and with a famous Texas Ranger relative or two, they took me on.
“I guess cop work is in my blood and background.”
Trust No One
Ricky watched me sort of sideways. “I didn’t know you were ever in that line of work. All you ever talk about is growing up on the ranch and working around mines. You went to war, too?”
“Back home, I had a name to live up to, a legend, and I didn’t measure up. While at Fort Worth, the war was still fresh on my mind. I had danged few memories worth hav’n from Korea. Drank too much whiskey trying to forget.”
It’s difficult for me to forget anything since I learned to walk. My siblings and I were taught to see details and remember them. Pa asked questions about our day and wanted details. A serious lesson, he made it sound like life or death. Seeing and remembering things helped keep me and my fellow Rangers alive. Details are important, and memorization, Dad ingrained into my soul.
Ricky stood, strolled to the water, and pulled out another cold beer. He walked as if asleep.
Dropping into his seat, he used a can opener on a string tied to a post. He glanced at me while I wrapped a slice of white bread around the cooked dog and took a bite.
He said, “Tell you the truth, when I got here, I was pissed thinking my brother ran off to Dawson or something, leaving me all the work to do on my own.”
I swallowed and said, “Then.”
He nodded. “Then, I realized he never made it to the camp. I searched the trail from Chicken along the creek with the Jeep Boyd lent me and alongside the road from his shop to the trail, but no sign of Tim. I sent word out with Gene by radio, and they pointed Robbie here from Tok to investigate. He flew into town yesterday.”
“So, Tim had no trouble with anyone?”
“Nothing I’m aware of until the cop said something about Tim wanting your claim, which is pure BS. Gold claims are hard work. My brother is okay, but he had plenty to do here. No way he went hunting for extra.”
“I thought it out of character for him, when Robbie asked me about it. Dottie told me someone wanted the bus mine. She would have told Tim before me if he wanted it.”
Ricky poked at the fire with his hot dog stick, and I finished eating. Hungry enough to eat way more, I refused when Ricky offered. My ma would have whipped me had I imposed. Not taking advantage was more than being polite. It was law at the Peoples’ Ranch.
We talked about Tim and things I needed to prioritize to get my claim running. An hour or so before pitch dark, in the long twilight of spring, I said goodbye and started for the cut-through trail.
Ricky said, “Where’s your gun?”
“I don’t like packing the shotgun, and I don’t own a pistol or a rifle.”
Ricky’s eyebrows raised. “Not worried about the bears?”
I smiled, hitched my foot on a boulder, and an elbow on my knee. “We’ve come to an agreement. I stay out of their way, and they won’t eat me.”
Turning, I walked to the trail. Darker among the trees, in less than a hundred yards tramping through the shadows, I wished for my shotgun.
The dark triggered memories of Chinese regulars who came screaming out of the night. The brutal, ruthless drive to survive left me alive, earned me a medal or two, and gave me dreams no one wanted.
The chaplain in Japan asked if I believed in God. Sitting in a hospital bed, I told him, “I’m not a good Christian by Bible Belt standards. However, I’m sure God exists because I served my time in hell and looked the devil in the eye. If hell is real, then God and heaven must be too.”
The trail merged with Davis Creek northeast of the claim. Out of the woods, I took a breath and turned downstream. Nearing total darkness, I splashed through a shallow channel and stepped onto a low cutbank. Gravel broke away underfoot, and I lunged forward, swearing a blue streak. The commotion startled a flock of roosting ravens and magpies.
I froze, wary of the birds. A winter kill, I suspected they found a dead caribou. Judging by the odor, Mister Grizzle E. Bear would be here soon. I could think of no reason to investigate without a gun and some light.
Birds give a bear room, so I thought it unlikely one hung out nearby. Still, the better plan was to leave it be.
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Thank you so much.
Rick PS: I am happy to send you a book.
No obligation. What I do for authors is what they do for me as well. I hope you sell a lot of this book. It sounds so interesting. Plus your wit is ever present.