[Firelands-The Beginning]

Linn Keller 8-27-07

 

"I am also given to understand that a new preacher is on his way here. I know absolutely nothing about him, not even his name, but I reckon we'll find out in due time."
Heads nodded in agreement, here and there.
"Now the good Reverend Sopris was a man for fine language. He had a way of speaking that seemed to address each individual heart." There were smiles at this, a softening of expressions. "I am not quite an orator, but I can make myself understood."
I drew the saber.
Gleaming steel whispered with thirst as it emerged from the scabbard, and I ran my thumb along its back edge. I looked down the length of the curved blade, catching light off its honed edge.
"I had this blade custom made, some years ago. Damascus steel, forged in Damascus and shipped to me. It takes quite an edge, just like a tongue." I tilted the blade back, rested it on my shoulder. "I'll need an assistant. Sarah, could you come up here, please?"
Sarah, with the happy abandon of a child, launched herself off the pew and charged the pulpit, all petticoats and smiles. She looked up at me with an expression of intentional innocence.
I drew my silk wild rag from my left hand coat pocket. "Sarah," I said, "unfold this and hold it out for everyone to see."
Bonnie looked decidedly uncomfortable and shifted in her seat. Esther laid a hand on her forearm, whispered a word.
Sarah held the light blue silk out. It wavered a little in the still air.
"Now, Sarah, ball it up for me."
She did, quickly, enthusiastically.
"Tell me, Sarah, what material is that?"
"It's silk!" she said with a firm nod of her head.
"Are you sure? Maybe it's just cotton."
She rubbed it against her cheek, closed her eyes in pleasure. "It's silk!"
"I see," I said, with a conspiratorial wink to the general congregation. "Is it soft?"
"Yes, it's very nice. Can I have it?"
"Well, I've got an idea," I said. "Stand over here." Sarah moved to the center of the raised dais. "Now, Sarah, I want you to toss that straight up in the air."
She looked puzzled, blinked, then bent her knees, lowered her arms, and with an abrupt toss and a thrust of her legs, tossed the silk in the air, and caught it as it fell.
"Very nice," I congratulated her. "Now again, a little higher."
Sarah smiled, balled the silk and again threw it upward. It gained a little more altitude before it spread out and fell.
"Now, Sarah, I want you to throw it just as high, but a little to the side, out toward everyone here. Ready?"
Sarah tossed the silk.
Just as it reached its zenith, and spread out, I rolled my wrist and drawcut, upwards, through the floating silk.
There was the general hiss of breath drawn through clenched teeth. Visually I had just dragged my fingernails across a chalk board. An admiring voice from among the cavalrymen murmured, "Yon's a blade!"
The silk fluttered earthward, now in two pieces.
Sarah caught them, dismayed, tragedy in her expression.
I turned to the pulpit, sheathed the blade.
"Oh!" she said, distress evident in her face. She held the two pieces up and, looking at Bonnie, called, "Mama, do you think you can fix Mr. Keller's kerchief?"
There was a sympathetic laugh and Bonnie looked at her, lips parted a little, unsure whether to laugh or offer some supportive word to the disappointed little girl on the dais.
"Here, Sarah, let's save your Mama some work," I said. "Ball those two pieces up. Just like that, nice and tight." I went to one knee, beckoned her closer. "Tighter. There, just like that." I took her little hands in my big hands.
"Now blow on it, like this." I puffed a quick breath at my hands.
Sarah took a deep breath and blew long and hard at them, cheeks puffing out with the effort.
"I think that just might work!" I exclaimed to the congregation: with a flourish, I removed one hand, reached in under and pinched up some material.
I whipped the silk out, popping it overhead, spinning it to open it up and letting it settle over Sarah's still outstretched hands. Her eyes were big and her mouth was open.
"Hold that up, Sarah."
Sarah held an unbroken square of light blue silk.
"Mama!" Sarah exclaimed. "He fixed it!" She clutched the wild rag and ran pelting off the dais and back to Bonnie, clutching the big square as if it were something precious.
I returned to the podium. "We read in Scripture about the tongue being like a blade. We all know how a careless or vicious word can cut like a knife. We've just seen the soft and yielding silk, so gentle and kind when rubbed against a child's face, cloven and destroyed on the obdurate edge of honed steel." I could hear my voice echo off the back wall. "This is the same thing that happens with a harsh word to a gentle soul. The voice can cut like a knife -- or a whip. A word is like a bell, when rung: the sound runs forever and can never be recalled. I believe it is a courtroom maxim that "A bell cannot be un-rung." So it is with a careless word." I cast my eyes to the heavens and raised my arms theatrically. "O Lord, let my words be soft and sweet, for I may have to eat them after all."
My tone had been exaggerated, a spoof of a self-righteous preacher, and was met with quiet laughter -- but with laughter comes acceptance.
"Lastly," I said, "not everything is quite as it seems." I drew the two halves of my sliced wild rag from my coat pocket and held one in each hand.
My lesson spoke for itself.
"Please stand for final prayer." I waited until all were on their feet again, then bowed my head. "O Lord, Thou who knowest our down-sittings and our up-risings, be with us here today and in all that we do. We thank You for Your many blessings, and ask Your watch-care over us all. Keep us from evil ways, and protect us from the evil that seeks to devour the righteous" -- I had raised my head, as is my habit, and looked back at Jacob, who stood with his cap in hand and head bowed -- "and we thank You for unexpected blessings. Amen!"

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Linn Keller 8-27-07

 

Most everyone was in church already.
Sam had sniffed curiously at my suit, but offered no other comment.
"If I am to deliver the sermon," I told him, "I must look the part."
Never one for lengthy conversations, Sam switched his tail and waited patiently for me to mount.
There was just enough room for me to tie Sam to the end of the hitch rail. As I loose-wrapped the reins about the rail, a lad came up to me and removed his cap. "Sheriff Keller?" he asked, and held out an envelope.
"Thank you, son," I said, and opened it. It was not sealed; the outside was not addressed.
I unfolded the half-sheet of foolscap.
It was Reverend Sopris's handwriting.
"Sheriff, this is Jacob," I read. "He is from back East but of good people. He is orphaned and needs a father. You need him. He will surprise you. RS." There was a rose, drawn at the bottom.
I folded the sheet, replaced it in the envelope, and placed the envelope in my coat pocket. I regarded the lad, tilted my head. "Your name, son?"
"Jacob, sir."
"Jacob, let's go to church."
"Yes, sir!" He grinned.
We entered, quietly; the house was full, there was a quiet buzz of conversation. Those who looked to see who'd entered puzzled at the sheathed saber in my hand and at the young fellow in a slightly worn but well fitted suit beside me.
"Jacob, do you find a seat here in back," I said. "I shall be with you after service."
"Yes, sir!" he said with a grin, and settled himself near WJ, in the next to last pew.
I strode to the front.
Conversation stopped, and all turned their attention to me as I stepped to the pulpit.
I leaned the sheathed blade against the back of the podium, and hung my hat from a peg on the wall behind me. Turning to the congregation, I looked them over, smiled.
Deep breath, shoulders back, speak from the diaphragm. Not quite like addressing the troops, but it was time to be heard. I pitched my voice so it would bounce off the back wall and be clearly heard by everyone.
"Friends, kindred and brethren," I said, "I am not the Reverend Sopris."
There was a quiet ripple of chuckles. I grinned.
"Our hymn this morning will be, "Shall We Gather By the River." Please stand." I made the grand stand-up gesture, and with the usual fuss and rustling, the roomful of people came to their feet. I smiled at Sarah and winked. Of course, Sarah was standing between Bonnie and Esther, so Esther got the benefit of it as well.
Both of them smiled.
I opened my mouth a little to take a good singing-breath, raised both hands, and we sang.
I'm told I have a fine tenor. It's kind of hard for me to tell. I sing well enough if I am soaking in a tub of steaming hot bath water, or on Sam's back alone on the prairie. Sam doesn't mind, anyway. I've heard some truly fine voices in my day, and as we gathered by the beautiful, beautiful river, my ear could almost pick out individual voices, weaving through the music like threads in a tapestry: the ladies had such lovely voices, but I could not tell one from another; Tillie, Bonnie, Esther and Sarah were all in a group; Daisy and a couple of the ladies from the hotel were not far from them; Mick and four of his troopers were near to the back, singing with vigor, if not with perfect pitch.
We sang the first verse, and I drew the last note out as if drawing taffy, and pinched it off. The final note hung on the air, shimmering.
"Thank you. Please be seated."
Again the rustling and fuss of coat tails being drawn out, skirts being smoothed, of bottoms finding some comfortable purchase on polished wood. Upturned faces, and expectant silence.
"You will be pleased to learn," I began, "we are not going to pass the plate today. If you have brought tithes and offerings, drop them in the poor box in back as you go, otherwise use them for the Lord's work as you see fit." There were quiet, polite smiles. "Bear in mind this will not be a usual occurrence." Smiles were a little broader now.
"There has been some concern over the absence of our Reverend Sopris."
Dead silence.
I had their attention now.
"Rumor is a wonderful thing. By the power of rumor, I learned that, single handedly, I captured Jefferson Davis and his entire Cabinet."
There were a few chuckles.
"By the power of rumor, I learned I had run off and left a wife and a half dozen children back in Kansas City."
More chuckles.
Esther raised one eyebrow and pressed her lips together, not certain whether to smile or not.
"Had it not been for this wonderful power of rumor, I would have gone my entire life without knowing these important things about myself."
Knowing smiles, heads nodded.
Esther relaxed.
"My point is this. The information you get from rumor is generally worth the price you paid for it." I paused. "The Reverend Sopris is no longer with us. This much is true. He is not, however, dead."
I had their undivided attention now.
"I am not at liberty to say more than this: he has been called away on more urgent business."
A dog barked outside, lazily, and Sarah tilted her head in curiosity.
"There has also been a question of the good Reverend's bona fides." My words were carefully framed, almost over-pronounced. People expected oratory from the pulpit, they also expected to be able to understand the spoken word, and I wanted to make sure my every syllable was clearly and unmistakably uttered. "The Reverend Sopris is, indeed, a Reverend -- and he carries other credentials as well. Again, I am not at liberty to discuss all that I know. I can say this much: while he worked among us, he worked as an agent for our general good. He continues to do so, and I doubt me not he will be among us again. We might not see him, but be assured he will walk among us, in flesh and blood, very much alive."
I wished for a drink of water, and made a mental note to install a pitcher stand and pitcher of good cold well water for the next preacher's use.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Duzy Wales 8-27-07

 

Duzy finished reading the paper Dawg had brought, folded it, and put it in her reticule. At least he had thought of sending word, but her heart was still heavy that he had left. So, goes the way of life, people come into our lives and then they leave, sometimes leaving you with more questions than answers, she thought. Duzy supposed that with the line of work that Kid Sopris was in, that he never let himself get too close to anyone, making it easy to move on.

Aunt Esther went to see Sheriff Keller, and Duzy left for the new gambling hall, to see how it was progressing. Tom Landers was doing an amazing job, keeping everyone working together and in no time the ladies would be planning a grand opening for the new “Silver Jewel.” Duzy smiled thinking of the people she would love to have there for the opening week of activities and mentally made a note to send a wire back to the Carolina’s, among other places, to see if it were possible.

As Duzy turned to go to Sheriff Keller’s office to find Aunt Esther, she saw Jake Thomas standing at the train depot. Her heart skipped a beat as she looked at him and the memories came rushing back of how it had felt to be in his arms. Jake must have felt her watching him as he turned and looked directly at her. Was he leaving, Duzy wondered? Now that Luke was dead, would he be returning to North Carolina? Aunt Esther, along with Sheriff Keller, walked up to Jake at that moment and Duzy could see her Aunt introducing the two men. They shook hands and then Jake looked from Aunt Esther to Duzy and then back and she saw him nod his head. Duzy could feel her face blush and could only wonder what was happening. Would he have left without a word? Damn Luke, damn Kid, damn Jake, she thought and moved in the opposite direction. She knew she wasn’t thinking rationally, but damn it that was the way she felt!

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Linn Keller 8-26-07

 

I closed the door, quietly, as if not to disturb a sleeper.
The mannequin was gone.
I'd used the morning sun to back light the ground, hoping to pick up some trace of tracks ... nothing, other than what Charlie and I disturbed the night before.
I took off my Stetson, ran my hand through thinning hair, and considered.
I've been told we entertain angels unknowingly, but it seemed the good Reverend Sopris was not quite an angel ... no, more like one of the ranking officers of S.C.O.L.D. ... probably on the Federal level. That would explain the skill and resources necessary to construct such a lifelike mannequin ... it would also explain the training and discipline necessary to appear dead to two experienced lawmen.
I frowned. He'd known just how we would react.
I don't like it when I'm predictable.
If a fellow lawman can figure out how I will react, a criminal can too.
No help for it.
I'd left the preacher's quarters undisturbed. There was nothing to disturb, to be honest: the bunk was made, the fireplace had been cleaned out, fresh kindling was in the bucket and fire wood stacked outside, the oil lamp cleaned and refilled.
I'd like to know how he did that.
I stepped into the sanctuary, my boots loud in the morning stillness. I looked at the empty pulpit.
Tomorrow was Sunday.
Tomorrow folks would expect a church service.
I sighed. Reckon I would have to tend that detail too.
Details ... let's see. I'd asked Doc to have the undertaker box up both bodies and have them ready for burial. I'd checked the boxes myself; the lids were screwed in place, and I used sealing wax in three places on each lid, with strict instructions to the sallow-faced undertaker that no one was to open them. He assured me with a professionally mournful expression the bodies would not be viewed, disturbed nor moved. Fact is, he looked so mournful I couldn't but wonder if he told jokes with a solemn expression.
Now to think of a subject for Sunday's sermon.
I laughed out loud, startling myself with the abruptness of the sound.
Sunday's sermon was the least of my worries.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Lady Leigh 8-26-07

 

Bonnie and Sarah had just left Micheal Moulton's office when Bonnie overheard some folks talking on the boardwalk. "Surely that can't be!"

"What Bo ... Mama?"

"I'm not sure I heard correctly, Sarah ... but if I am not mistaken, I think that is Auntie Esther over there, and I would imagin Auntie Duzy is there, too. Let's walk over that way, OK?"

Bonnie, talking to herself, "No, Lord! Please ... no!" With hurried steps they reached Esther, Duzy and Tilly, and when Bonnie saw the three, she knew what she heard was true, Duzy looked upset, confused and angry all at the same time ... Reverend Sopris was missing ... possibly dead.

Tenatively, Bonnie approached Duzy, "So it's true?"

"Yes ..."

Dawg came running up to Duzy and put his head under her hand. Bonnie noticed a piece of paper, "Duzy? I think you need to take a look at what Dawg has."

Duzy took the note, looked at it, smelled it, she muttered roses, and read, "Not all is what it appears; have faith..A REAL pastor is on his way and will arrive any day...Do not lose sight of the dream..I will see you again some day". "God Bless".

"Well," Esther said sympathetically, "It doesn't totally give us an answer, but perhaps this means it was not the Reverands blood that saw in your vision, dear."

Meanwhile ...

"Please stack the crates where you need to inorder to keep them out of your way. It may take me sometime to locate where they go." The man in the dark gray Sack Suit turned away from the gentleman at the railway station, and then quickly turned back to face him, "If I may ask a question of you, sir ... could you, by chance, direct me to where I might find Miss Bonnie McKenna?"

"Actually, Mister, if you look right over there, you can see a group of women and a child. The taller of the women is Bonnie McKenna."

"Thank you, sir! Thank you ...."

He walked quickly at first, and then slowly ... especially when the little girl looked at him. "Could that be the child she referred to in the letter? My God, could THAT be Bonnie?" His thoughts were coming quickly, and he almost but stopped, his steps were coming so slowly.

"Mama? Mama??"

"Yes, Sarah?" Bonnie looked down at her, and saw that Sarah was looking at someone. Sarah was asking if Bonnie knew who it was when Bonnie noticed him, too.

Bonnie looked at the figure standing probably 25 feet away from the women. Probably 6 foot or so tall, looked to have fairly wide shoulders under the jacket of his suit, dark wavy hair ... no, nearly black hair ... his eyes. "What is it about his eyes?" Bonnie was thinking. The man began to move toward them again, and Sarah siddled closer to Bonnie's side with her arm around her legs, her eyes were slightly widened, "Mama?" Bonnie could not take her eyes off of him, "What is it about this man?"

The man was now standing in front of Bonnie, and there was silence among the women. "Bonnie? Bonnie McKenna? ..."

"Yes .... um ...." She knew this man! She knew it deep inside her soul!

"Bonnie? It's me, Bonnie ... Caleb ..."

"Dear God in Heaven! It IS you! Oh my God!! Caleb!" SHe approached him and Caleb embraced her ... carefully, gently, but as someone who knew her.

"Caleb?! What are you doing here?

"Mama! Who is this?" Sarah was all but panicking at this point. "Sarah, this is a VERY good friend of mine that I had when I was a child in Chicago ... in fact, all of you ... Duzy, Esther, Tilly ... this is Caleb Rosenthal! Oh my God ... Caleb! I can't believe it ..."

Caleb, with his hat in hand, nodded to the women, and looked down at Sarah, "So you must be the little girl, Bonnie wrote about in her letter ... I'm pleased to meet you Sarah", and returning his eyes to the other women, "I am pleased to meet all of you, as well."

"Well, Mr. Rosen, I am not just a little girl," Sarah announced, "I am Bonnie's daughter now! And she is my Mama!"

"Sarah, honey, it is Mr. Rosenthal" Bonnie corrected. "Caleb? ...."

"I brought your supplies for your business. Father, Mother, Levi and I thought it would be best if one of us accompanied your stores stock, and I thought it should be me that came ..." Caleb paused, then pointed back to the station, and continued a bit nervously, as all of the women were staring at him rather oddly, "It's being unloaded onto the dock there by the station ... see?'

Finally Esther said, "Mr. Rosenthal, forgive us, please! I am afraid you caught us off gaurd, sir. It is a pleasure to meet you. I am officially Miss Esther Wales. This is my niece, Miss Duzy Wales. Here is Miss Tilly Ashcroft, and of course, Sarah McKenna, who just recently ..."

Bonnie interupted, "my daughter ... Caleb, I am so sorry to have not made the proper introductions! Esther," Bonnie looked toward the women who had an amused face expression, "thank you."

"Of course, my dear! Now shall we exit to someplace else? The resturant at the hotel perhaps? I am sure Daisy has a fine array of things to eat. Then we can discuss where to have the supplies taken, and let you tell us all about yourself, Mr Rosenthal. I take it you and Bonnie have not seen each other for sometime?"

"No, Miss Wales ... not for a very long time."

"We were 9 years old when last we saw each other, but we corresponded by letter until a few years ago, Esther." Bonnie responded, still not taking her eyes away from him for very long, took the offered arm, and in her other hand Sarah was squuezing tightly. They walked toward he hotel's resturant. "You must further forgive us Caleb, for we have also suffered another shock this morning as a friend of ours is missing, and we are not sure if he still among us."

Across the street, Micheal Moulton saw the exchange between Bonnie, the others, and the man. With some saddness in his movements, he turned toward the Sheriffs office. He needed to find out if the rumors he was hearing were true concerning Rev. Sopris, Carsey and the newly arrived Mr. Hawkins. It wasn't his imagination ... he knew by the way Bonnie and the gentleman with them, were familiar with one another. Perhaps he is the reason Bonnie seemed hesitant with him. Micheal scolded himself for not getting better background information concerning Bonnie. The last thing he would ever want was to be guilty of interferring where he didn't need to.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Kid Sopris 8-26-07

 

DAWG had it..Only he knew where he got it...But he delivered the unsigned Rose pictured, and scented note to Duzy Wales......She was upset, angry and confused...BUT if she believed in anything, she would have to trust something or someone.

Confidentiality is a funny compromise between reality and fantasy..Integrity of a mission or operation means, some just can't be told...it read it part...."Not all is what it appears; have faith..A REAL pastor is on his way and will arrive any day...Do not lose sight of the dream..I will see you again some day". "God Bless"

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Duzy Wales 8-26-07

 

Duzy heard the buzz around town, long before they reached Sheriff Keller, the Reverend was missing. She felt a loss, one that she couldn’t understand, but one that ran deep inside her. She knew there was more to this than him leaving in the middle of the night, without a word, expecting no one to find him. She had seen the blood, she had seen the hooded man, the coins, the images, and she was a journalist, and she planned to find out what had happened to Kid Sopris. And then she realized she had not called him Reverend! She hoped she would find him someday. She would use all her connections, through her family, her friends, anyone, but she planned to find him and face him and ask him why?

In comparison, the death of Carsey was a deserved one, as far as Duzy felt. And surprisingly, the death of Luke Hawkins didn’t hurt like she thought it would, with her having known him all her life.

What surprised her was how hurt she was by Kid Sopris! She realized she was not only hurt, she was angry, as what kind of example had Sopris left to his congregation? Was it alright to walk off and leave those who believed in you? Was it alright to leave Firelands without a preacher, with the church just being built? Was it alright to walk off, making people feel empty inside? And why did she feel so empty? She had hardly known him after all! Was it because he had been the first "Reverend" whom she had met that made her believe that it was possible that there was something real behind the words? Was it because he was beginning to make her believe that there could be a God that cared about all people, who was compassionate and understanding, and was not there to make you feel like you were sitting in the judgment seat between heaven and hell, that people do make mistakes, and they live and learn, and make their lives better, that He doesn’t create innocent children to bring into an unjust world, young and confused, just to throw in a burning fire for not understanding the many beliefs of the world, and how contradictory they are, and for not understanding the wars that had been fought in the name of religions, and the lives that had been sacrificed in the name of God! Why had she ever started to believe? And then she felt her heart harden once again.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Lady Leigh 8-26-07

 

"Good morning. Mr. Moulton." Bonnie and Sarah entered Michaels office, Bonnie holding Sarah's hand, and Sarah holding onto Dolly's, "Is now a good time to visit?"

"Cetainly, Miss McKenna!" Michael Moulton was always a stong, confident man, and he took pride, that as an Attourney, he always represented himself above reproach, but whenever he was around Bonnie, he always felt like he skipped a step or two toward childhood. To Michael, Bonnie was intrigueing ... special. He knew he wanted to get to know her better, but always felt like he was stumbling around when he was with her. "Why don't you take this chair here, Miss Sarah, you can sit next to your Mother here." He extended the two chairs in front of his desk to Bonnie and Sarah.

"You can call me just Sarah, if you like, Mr, Moulton, and this is Dolly! Is it true that Bonnie is my Mama? Because if it is, I like that very much!" Bonnie chuckled as silently as she could, thinking the girls was sometimes far beyond her 6 years of age. Her understanding was sometimes a blend of 6 and 16, but she was trying very hard to represent herself as a young lady instead of the girl she was.

"I would be delighted to call you Sarah! Basically, Sarah, Miss McKenna is your Mama! All we are waiting on is the paper work to be recorded in Denver. So it seems to me, you have every right to be happy about having a Mama."

"Good! Well, then I think that Bonnie is not the right name for me to be saying." Sarah wrapped Dolly in her left arm and reached to Bonnie with her right, and very sweetly and confidently stated, "Bonnie? Can I start calling you Mama now?"

Bonnie reached over and pulled the girl to her, and with her chin resting on the top of Sarah's head, "Of course, Sarah!"

Michael watched the two as if it were the most natural thing in the world to be experienced between them. He was enchanted. That was the only word that seemed appropriate. After a moment or two, he cleared his throat, "Miss McKenna? I have this drawn up for you to look at ... we can discuss these few details, if you would like."

Sarah scooted back into her chair, and Bonnie looked everything over agreeing to what she saw. Bonnie did not know why she felt as she did, and knew she would have to post a letter to the Rosenthals to inform them, but Bonnie felt it important to set Sarah's inheretance up into a Trust that would be in Abram Rosenthal's hands. Maybe because of all the mistrust Bonnie had with Firelands ... maybe because she needed some semblance to the security of the past, but if need be, the will could be changed if Abram thought differently. But for now, all of Bonnies financial holdings were to be set up in Trust, and if it was agreeable to the Abram and Miriam Rosenthal, Sarah would go to them in Chicago. If that was not acceptable, Sarah would stay with Esther and Duzy, with an allowance to be given them on a yearly basis for Sarah's needs, while the remaining would be given to Sarah, half at 21 years of age, and the remaining half at 25 years of age.

"This looks to be in order, Mr. Moulton ... thank you. Where shall I sign?"

He handed her the pen and showed her where to sign the document, and with a flourish of the pen, Bonnie's business was complete for the time being. Bonnie and Sarah stood, when very quickly, Micheal asked, "I don't suppose you two would care to join me in some morning refreshments at the hotel resurant would you? Coffee, tea ... scones maybe ..."

Bonnie looked at Micheal, with what she hoped was a plesant expression, and equally hoping her voice would not betray her, she answered back, "Thank you, Mr. Moulton, though I am flattered by the invitation ... I really must decline. Sarah and I have much to do, but thank you ... really."

Bonnie felt like she was lieing, and didn't like that very much. As she told Duzy, her hands were fairly tied until a shipment came, but now wasn't the time to be getting close to a man ... she didn't really think any time would be apporpiate for that ... but certainly not right now.

Micheal did well to camouflage his disappointment, and hurriedly went to the door to open it for Bonnie and Sarah. He extended his hand first to Sarah, "Congratulations to you, Sarah, for having such a wonderful Mother! I am sure you will be a very happy -- young lady." and to then he extended his hand to Bonnie, "If I can be of further help to you, please do not hesitate to let me know ... and on a personaly note ... perhaps we can extend this mornings invitation to another time?"

All Bonnie could think to say was, "We'll see ... but thank you just the same."


Bonnie and Sarah heard the train coming long before it could be seen. Bonnie always marveled at the sound of the steam, the wheels on the tracks, whistle blowing ... "What a marvelous invention that one is", Bonnie thought.

On the train, that was approaching Firelands, on this beautiful early fall morning, with the sky, the blue that was Bonnies's favorite ... the color of Bachelor Buttons, and just a hint of white clouds ... was a man dressed in a dark gray Sack Suit, Bowler hat in hand, eyes that equaled the color of his suit, spying the approach of Firelands. "What kind of resception would he receive in this town?" He thought. Running his hand over the back of almost black, lightly wavy hair, he readied himself for the train to stop, and for himself to disembark and locate, Miss Bonnie McKenna.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Duzy Wales 8-26-07

 

Aunt Esther finally woke up, and said, “Good Morn…..and then took a closer look at Duzy. Honey, come here, lay with me, talk to me, tell me what has happened to make you look so distressed. Duzy related everything, blushing, when she got to the part about Jake Thomas. Aunt Esther remained quiet until Duzy had finished. “Now, don’t you go worrying about Mr. Thomas and I am happy that he was there to find you….even though it was under these circumstances! Otherwise, you may have continued into town dressed in your chemise! Now that really would have caused a stir, but as it is, you can trust it to be kept quiet! Duzy, it is not that I condone what you did, but I know how your mind can run overtime when these worst premonitions hit! I have watched you run from these images since you were a little girl, Duzy and I am the only one who seems to understand that you have been given a gift….but you have yet to learn that you have to think these things out! You cannot simply act, nor can you run from them, or to them, without putting yourself in danger! My goodness, you left here unarmed, at night, in your chemise! I want you to start your breathing exercises again, and meditation, to learn how to control your panic and to give yourself time to think! You remember that the last time this happened that you killed Bert Graves, so the images must be getting stronger! You need to start a journal and write everything down that you see and feel, instead of acting rashly!” She then hugged Duzy and told her, “God gives us all gifts, but it is up to us to use them correctly.”

“Now we shall get dressed and go into town and find out what has happened. You said yourself that you have never felt it so strongly!” Duzy blushed again, as she remembered how strongly she had felt, but it was not the images she was thinking of, it was how she had felt in Jake Thomas’ arms. The blush did not escape Aunt Esther, and she knew that Duzy was feeling her first real passion toward a man, and not understanding how strong that force can be at times, as she had immersed herself in getting an education and the only passion she had felt had been to travel, explore, write, and to succeed at business. She was still new to the way a woman felt when stirred by a man, making her want to feel her body afire with passion and the need to have that passion fulfilled. Luke Hawkins had never known true passion with a woman, he had used them, thinking they were a means to an end, and he had been the only man Duzy had kissed, until now!

“Duzy, I know Jake Thomas, I have known him for quite some time and he is the man your Papa sent here to look after you.” Duzy looked somewhat surprised, although she had felt that it could be him when he had stepped off the train. Aunt Esther continued, “Therefore, I know he is a gentleman and the subject will be dropped. You have no fear of losing your reputation over this.” “That is just it, Aunt Esther, I didn’t care at the moment, as all I was thinking was how good he made me feel, how safe, how calm, when everything else was going awry, and then with the calmness, came the lust! That is the only way I know to describe it….I wanted him to touch me, to kiss me, to……do more!”

“That only means that you have felt the needs of a woman, my dear! Some people think that a woman “performs a duty” and that what you felt is unnatural, as if child bearing is all that a woman is meant to do and feel, but it is not true, it is natural and can be wonderful when it is shared with the right man for you! Now, I am not saying that Jake Thomas is the right man, because a woman can feel these things with the wrong man, and you must be very careful to base your feelings on friendship and love and then get to where you were for a few moments last night. Now, quit fretting and let’s go into town and see what we can find out. You said you were going to see the Reverend, that you were thinking of him as you ran, so that is the first place we will start. You say he was in the graveyard and then at the Church and then you lost him completely! It seems he was upper most in your images, so he should be able to shed some light on this!” Aunt Esther didn't want to bring up the blood until they got more information.

Duzy and Aunt Esther asked Tilly if she would like to go into town, and a bright smile crossed her face. “I was dreaming last night of me running the hotel, and how I wished to meet everyone and take inventory of what will be needed. Miss Esther, are you and Sheriff Keller sure about this, as I would like to get started. I feel the need to be doing something and I am looking forward to being a part of it!” Aunt Esther remembered Linn and a smile crossed her face, thinking that she would love to see him again, and Tilly was right, it was time she took her place at the Hotel. “Yes, Tilly, we are sure! I am still trying to think of the perfect name for my restaurant, so both of you think on that as well.” Tilly packed her belongings to go to her new "home."

The ladies went to Church and found it empty. They decided their next visit would be to see Sheriff Keller.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Charlie MacNeil 8-25-07

 

When the deceased had been taken to the doctor's office Charlie began to drift through town, thinking. He often stayed up late at night, meandering through the darkness. Evil worked better in the dark and Charlie felt it was his job to bring evil to the light.

He drifted back past the church and the rose garden trying to work out what exactly had happened tonight. Like Linn, he was sure that the men had been killed elsewhere and brought here, and that the placing of the bodies had definite significance. If he could only figure out what that significance might be.

Charlie saw Miss Duzy come running from her house in terror of something, then turned away when he saw the new man, Jake Thomas, stop her. He had done some checking and had the feeling that Mister Thomas was one of the good guys.

Charlie had spent most of the day with Walter Crane, looking over the books at the bank. Walter had been quite impressed with the quality of the chicanery that had gone on. "Damn fine job of cooking the books," had been his description. "Not as good as I might have, er, uhm, damn fine job." Charlie had left him writing notes in his fine copperplate penmanship.

Now Charlie looked into the hotel dining room and saw Linn having breakfast. That sounded like a plan to Charlie but he decided to wait until Linn had finished and gone back to the jail. No sense having both of the town's available lawmen where one shooter could get them at the same time.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Lady Leigh 8-25-07

 

Liam McKenna was walking along Park Avenue on his way to a favorite part of Central Park. He was deep in thought, but cleverly working on the task at hand.

Having lived in New York City for 12 years, and having worked with an elocutionest for 10 of those years, his Scottish accent was all but gone. It wasn't that he was ashamed of his Scottish heritage, in fact the opposite was true to that statement. He was a Scot through and through, but as his father, Colin McKenna had said, for a project as important as this one, sacrifices needed to be made.

Until recently, Liam did not have to involve himself in the nitty gritty of the project. He had compitent people working for him making the job not problematic. Aspen and Telluride worked out without a hitch or flaw, but Firelands was another story. That was the place that was supposed to been taken care of years ago ... three years ago as a matter of fact.

When Liams Uncle Angus died in the Chicago fire in 1871, his Father thought it should be easy to get his hands on the mineral rights in Firelands. It was because of Abram Rosenthal they had to move slowly and with extreme care. They set the stage with men they 'thought' were compitent. Duke Slade was a marvel in his field. It did not take long to get the banker, Dan Carsey eating out of his hand, and the two were able to hide the actual facts from Angus' widow. All they had to do was play their cards right, and the shares would be in Colin McKennas hands, but their potential financial worth alone was worth the wait. Natural causes elliminating Pauline and her daughters was sheer luck. Sheer luck until Liam found out recently that his cousin, Bonnie, was not among the dead, as was assumed. Instead, Slade had her drugged and signed over to one of his own flunkys being represented as a whore in some local saloon. "The wench must be a beauty if Slade did something so potencially stupid!" he thought.

All they had to do was wait a little bit longer. Long enough where Rosenthal wouldn't have even cared if the shares transferred hands. Liams Uncle knew what he was doing when he intrusted information to his business partner, "Damn Jew!" Liam thought. "Well, things are about to change! They have to! We're running out of time!"

Liam found out the day before, that not only was "dear cousin, Bonnie" still alive, but that she knew about the mineral shares. In the same letter, Liam also heard that Slade was dead, and if that were the case, Liam himself would have to complete this aspect of the project, as he was not entirerly sure if Luke Hawkins was up to the task. If Liam didn't take care of this, there would be hell to pay with his father.

"Now, do I go as some American looking for a nice town to set up a business or do I go as Liam Mc Kenna, the long lost cousin, thrilled to find family at last?" Yes, he thought, "that's it! brillient."

Deciding to forego his walk into Central Park, he turned around and returned to his plush suite at the, "Plaza Hotel".

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Lady Leigh 8-25-07

 

"Morning, Duzy!" But as soon as Bonnie said that, she could see that Duzy looked awful. "What is the matter?" Concern was written all over Bonnie's face, and she rushed to Duzy's side and took Duzy's hand into her own.

"Oh Bonnie! ..... I had the worst night! Dreams, images .... they just kept coming at me so fast and furious. I couldn't keep up with any of them, and nothing made sense. I just know that something awful has happened ... or at least something deadly .... I'm almost afraid to venture into town today ... I don't know if I want to hear anything that makes the dreams and images bear true."

Bonnie continued to hold Duzy's hand, "We don't have to go into town today, Duzy. We can stay right here if you'd like. There's plenty to do ... always is you know?"

"No ... you should go back to you business today and continue on with what you have been doing ... I'll be fine. I am waiting for Aunt Esther to wake up ... maybe she can bring some light to all of this."

"To be perfectly honest, Duzy, until my shipment gets here, I can't do much more. All I know is what Abram said in the telegram, and all that entailed was a letter and a shipment were to be following the telegram. Guess I'm a little lost until I hear more. I do need to see Mr Moulton today though, but it shouldn't take to long."

"By the way, what all happened with your visit yesterda?"

"Well, the adoption papers were signed, and he is going to be posting them to Denver today. I am not sure how long the process will take, but Mr Moulton didn't think it take to long... basically just needs to be recorded in the court system there. He also said he set up a bank account for Sarah's money at the !st National Bank in Denver. He assured me it was a secure bank, and that I should trust it without any hesitancy .... but mostly, he just kind of stood around as if he didn't really want to leave. Kind of made me feel a bit anxious."

"Bonnie? I think Mr Moulton may be smitten with you ..."

"You're kidding right?"

"Why would I be kidding? I think he shows signs of good taste if he is smitten with you!" Duzy was smiling and seemed to take some delight at chiding Bonnie with this news. Until she noticed Bonnie's face expression.

"Duzy? I sincerely hope you are wrong about that!" Bonnie sqeezed Duzy's hand, and released it, "Well, if I can't talk you into staying home, what are your plans going to be today? Looks like the construction is coming along at the 'Silver Jewel'! Tom must have incredible management skills to be able to get the building this far along in such a short time!"

"Bonnie? I couldn't be more delighted about that aspect of my life! I'm anxious and nervous at the same time about it ... I don't want it to fail!"

Bonnie smiled, "Can't imagin it failing, Duzy! Would you mind if I left Sarah here with you while I meet with Mr Moulton? Or should I see what Esther and Tilly are doing for an hour or so this morning?"

"I think maybe you should ask one of the others, Bonnie .... I just don't know what my day has in store for me ...."

"No problem ... Actually, in light of your earlier comment, I think I'll take Sarah with me. That way I can take advantage of a quick-get-a-way by using Sarah as an excuse. Are you going to be OK? I need to run upstairs and get Sarah up and the two of us dressed."

"You run along, Bonnie ..." Bonnie noticed the morning conversation did little to help her friend. There were things going on in Firelands that fostered the questions. There needed to be answers soon!

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Linn Keller 8-25-07

 

Tom Landers grinned at me. "How'd you sleep?"
I leaned forward and kicked myself for falling asleep in that wooden chair. It was comfortable enough to sit in for a short time, but my back was calling me unkind names.
"Must have slept pretty well. Didn't even hear you come in."
"It's just sunup."
I twisted my shoulders, rocked from side to side. Something popped a little below kidney level. Tom frowned. "Heard that one clear over here! You break anything?"
"No," I said from between clenched teeth. I stood, experimentally, and the profanity in my lower back continued.
"I can see why you never slept in that chair!"
Tom chuckled. "Only took me once to learn." He picked up the coffee pot, sniffed at the contents. "Phew! Reckon this batch has boiled long enough!" He ladled in some water, swirled the contents and took it to the door.
"You had breakfast, Tom?"
"Yep, Daisy is up bright and early."
"Reckon I'll go partake. That fella that got off the train, the one in black that tried real hard to turn invisible ... he's staying over at the hotel?"
"Yep."
"Reckon I'll ask him to breakfast. Want to talk to him."
I handed Tom the Greener, traded him shotgun for coffee pot, and carried the offensive vessel outside, dumping it into the dirt just past the board walk.
It was a lovely morning. I'd always enjoyed sunrise: it was a little cool, it smelled like morning, the sky was riot with color. I smiled.
Daisy looked up when I came in. "What's good this morning, Daisy?"
"Everything's good, Sheriff!" she laughed. "What's your pleasure?"
"Bacon and eggs, and some of those good sweet rolls if you have 'em!"
"Fix you right up!"
"I'll be right back. Got to go see a man."
"I'll wait til you get back. Nothing worse than cold eggs. Say, you want some potatoes with that?"
I laughed. "You know the way to my heart!"
I took the stairs two at a time, stood to the side of a door, knocked.
No reply.
I waited a few, listened, knocked again.
Nothing.
I tried the knob.
The door opened.
Empty.
I closed the door and went back downstairs.
"Find him?" Daisy called from the kitchen. She was holding an egg, and had a spot of flour on the end of her nose.
"No, don't think he's here," I said. "Coffee hot?"
"Sure enough!" she replied.
Breakfast was quite good, and I ate with more appetite than I realized I had. Daisy was happy: she delighted in seeing her cooking appreciated.
"Daisy," I said as she refilled my coffee cup, "would I be too forward if I told you some man will be a lucky son-of-a-gun to have you for his wife?"
"Why, Sheriff!" she teased. "You proposin' to li'l ol' me?" She batted her eyebrows and made as if to hide behind her upraised shoulder.
I laughed again. "Dear heart, you're too young and pretty for an old coot like me! No, some young fellow will find you and be the luckiest sod that ever stood in shoe leather!"
Daisy leaned one hand on the table and said quietly, "You made a fine couple last night, Sheriff. Was I you, I'd marry her!" She stood back up. "Unless I am being too forward!" Dark eyes danced with mischief, comfortable in teasing me and knowing it was safe.
For the life of me, I could not think of an answer.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Duzy Wales 8-25-07

 

Duzy awoke in a cold sweat, her heart pounding, and she literally jumped up and was out on the porch within minutes. Something terrible was happening! It had to be someone she cared for or she wouldn’t feel it this way. It wasn’t just a “feeling,” as there were images flashing in her mind! She felt her blood beating, almost pounding, in her temples, as her head ached with each beat of her heart! She had to get air, as she was finding it hard to breathe, and she felt the cold fear of panic about to consume her. She thought of Aunt Esther and slipped in to check on her and then to Bonnie, Sarah and Tilly, trying her best to be quiet. She was surprised they couldn’t hear her heartbeat themselves, as it seemed to get faster and faster. She walked over to the cupboard and reached for the bottle of apple brandy that Aunt Esther kept for medicinal purposes. Not taking time to get a glass, she lifted the jar to her mouth, being careful not to drop it as her hands were shaking. She took a few swallows, straight up, hoping she could calm herself. She had to slow down and nearly ran back outside as quietly as she could, but the feelings prevailed, the brandy not giving any relief, as the images kept coming.

She saw the graveyard, blood, the Church, a hooded figure, gold coins, more blood, a rocking chair, iced vanilla coffee, roses, even more blood, the Reverend in the graveyard, no not the graveyard, but in his rocking chair at the Church. She saw men running, and she could feel the fear, the dismay, the shock, the sadness and death! She felt evil and goodness, pain and relief, the scales of justice and injustices. Her body moved as if she had no control, and she started to run, off the porch and toward town. She hadn’t gotten far until she heard someone calling her name…..or was she imagining it? The Reverend would help her, he had to, he would, she knew he would, he was in his rocking chair, wasn’t he? Or, and then his image was gone…..but he had to be there, she needed him! Why couldn’t she see him anymore? And she started to shake from her insides out until she was trembling all over.

“Miss Wales, please, Miss Wales, stop, what is wrong? You can trust me, tell me please, please stop! I won’t hurt you!” Just then, someone grabbed her, and she started to fight, realizing she had left unarmed, something she never did, but she hadn’t been thinking. She couldn’t tell who it was, but he was strong, muscular, and he was trying to hold her, to stop her from fighting, but he wasn’t hurting her…..and she could still hear the words….”you will be fine, no one will hurt you, what has happened, I am here to help you….please, Duzy? Please?

That got her attention….Duzy….he knew her name. Was it Luke? No, it wasn’t his voice. The moon came out from under a cloud and she looked up at the face of the man who had gotten off the train after Luke. His eyes were gentle, he voice was soft, and he was trying to soothe her…..or maybe he was trying to fool her into thinking that….but he held her, pulling her to him and sitting against a tree as he rocked her…..talking softly, saying everything would be fine, everything would be fine. “No, you don’t understand, I know something is terribly wrong, I feel it, I see it!” Shhhhh, just hold still and look at the stars, look at the moon, listen to the owl in the distance, listen to the creek…..and Duzy started to relax. The images were leaving, and she could see the stars, the moon, she could hear the owl and the creek in the distance.

And then she felt his body, holding her, rocking her, bringing her back to the present with his words. She looked into his eyes and saw compassion and concern. Were they green or blue, she couldn’t tell in the darkness, but his hair was dark, worn long enough to curl around his neck and ears, and she unconsciously reached up and wound one of the curls around her finger. She had stopped shaking and she felt relaxed in his arms, so strong and yet gentle. He was holding her in his lap and she could feel the muscles in his legs, his arms, and his shoulders, as she let go of his hair and put her arms around him, letting him hold her as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And then she kissed him. He started to back away, but he felt so good, she felt so good, she said, “please,” and kissed him again. Jake knew he had to stop her, to stop himself, or he would never be able to! Duzy continued to seek him, as if she were holding on for dear life, needing to be comforted, needing….wanting…..what? What was it she needed so badly at that moment, something she didn’t understand herself, something so primal that she wasn’t even thinking, and she put her lips on his once again? Groaning, he said “God forgive me,” as his lips met hers in a searing kiss that they both felt to the core of their bodies.

Jake shook himself and pulled away, holding her away from him, and telling her, “Not now, Duzy, not now, please, I would be taking advantage of you. You were scared, you were running from something, and he had tasted the brandy when he had kissed her, and knew she wasn’t yet herself. “What are you scared of, Duzy, what happened?” His words finally penetrated her mind, and she started to realize what she was doing, yes, what she was doing…..and suddenly her face flamed and she jumped from his lap, saying, “I am sorry, so sorry, this is not like me, my God, I don’t even know you! I don’t know your name!” Ashamed, she looked down, and realized she was only wearing her silk chemise and knew he could clearly see the outline of her body in the moonlight. Jake noticed her reaction and took his shirt off and wrapped it around her slender body. Duzy finally looked up at him and could still see the concern in his eyes, as she said, “thank you, Mr…..and then she noticed his chest, then his stomach, and couldn’t seem to take her eyes off of him.

“Thomas, Jake Thomas,” he said, as he smiled down at her and said “everything is fine, please don’t worry, do not be embarrassed, you were not yourself! Can you tell me what was wrong, did anyone hurt you?” Duzy remembered the visions again, and still had the feeling that something was terribly wrong, but how could she tell that to a stranger? “No, no one hurt me…..sometimes I have nightmares and tonight was the worst one ever. Please forgive me?” Jake had been watching the ladies home, thinking Luke may try to hurt her, or heaven help him, take advantage of her, and hadn’t seen anyone until she had ran onto the porch. “Are you fine now? I will walk you back home, and do not fret; no one needs to know this, as I swear I will never tell a soul!” He then walked Duzy back to the porch and she walked inside, head bent, wondering what the hell had just happened to her, as for the life of her, she still wished she was in his arms, with his mouth on hers.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Linn Keller 8-24-07

 

Meanwhile, back at the office

 

I wiped the tip of the steel nib on the mouth of the ink well, and wrote a few more words in the journal.
It had been one of those nights.
Started out just fine -- matter of fact, more than just fine! -- Esther had found herself a fiddler, quite by accident, and hired him to play at the Silver Jewel, once it was built -- he'd played a waltz, and another, and I honestly lost track of how many waltzes he played.
It didn't matter.
I had danced with many women in the past: some were good, some were like dancing with an oak stump ... but Esther knew how to dance, and she danced well.
She did not so much dance, as she floated.
I leaned back in my chair and listened to Sam's snore and Higgins' wheeze; it was well the sheriff's office was solidly built, else their nighttime vibrations might shake a lesser building from its foundations.
Esther had looked so happy tonight.
We'd talked long after, sitting on her front porch, swinging gently in the night air; she sketched out the layout of the bar, the tables, the restaurant; what she wanted to tear down, what to rebuild, what to expand. She wanted to keep Daisy -- wisely, thought I, one needs a good first sergeant, and Daisy was a marvelous manager -- she was minded to hand the hotel over to the other lass ... oh, what was her name? I rubbed my eyes, unable to think of her name. I can see her face plain as day.
I stood, picking up the Greener. If I sat any longer I would fall asleep, and I didn't want to sleep, not yet. I had thinking to do.
The nighttime street was quiet. A light was on in Doc's office, likely where he was cutting out the bullets for me. I'd cautioned him to silence on the deaths; Carsey had been increasingly nervous, and with Sam and Higgins in jail, with Duke Slade sent to prison and then murdered, it would not be out of reason for Carsey to disappear of his own volition. And Reverend Sopris ...
I wanted another look at that mannequin.
Locking the door behind me, I cradled the Greener over my fore arm like I'd done my flint rifle as a lad at home, and stepped off the board walk.
I circled the back of the office, checking to make sure nobody was skulking about the back of the jail. Didn't need anyone tossing a stick of powder, or worse yet, some of that new-fangled dynamite, through the barred window.
I could hear the prisoners' snores quite plainly.
A coyote sang to the stars in the distance, another joining in: a lovely sound, a lonely sound, well suited to the night. I was faded into the shadows, silent, still, watching, listening.
Had Reverend Sopris punched the tickets tonight? Was it his hand that sent the two on their last journey? Or was it the fellow in the robe? Had someone else killed them, brought their bodies to the church, laid them out, and as a final blessing, the Reverend found them and flowered the bullet holes? No, that wouldn't fit ... the coin and rose was a summons, it had to be the hand of a S.C.O.L.D ... but who? Charlie was with me when it happened, who else was a S.C.O.L.D.?
I came back to the fellow in the black robe.
Had that been the Reverend Sopris?
Was the mannequin what we'd seen in the Reverend's rocking chair, the night we were first summoned?
I needed to take a closer look at that mannequin.
What would I say to cover the good Reverend's absence?
Was he even alive?
I drifted back to the front of the office, back to the street.
Doc was walking across the street, towards me.
"Thought you'd be up," he said. I could see the flash of a smile.
"Thank you, Doc. Find anything else?"
"Just these." He handed me two bullets. "Look like .44s, but look at them close. They're different."
"Appreciate it, Doc. Like some coffee?"
"No, thanks, I'm going to wash up and go to bed. Say, what do we do with the deceased?"
I sighed. "Reckon we'll give 'em to the undertaker. Any effects on them?"
Doc handed me two wallets. "Wrote their names on a slip and put inside so you'll know which is whose."
"Good. I'll have to send a telegram and let the next of kin know."
"What will you tell them?"
"Died unexpectedly, buried our cemetery, but no details. I don't want it known that they were shot, I don't want it known that they each had a rose stuck in the bullet hole, I don't want it known where they were found, or how they were found, or that they were shot somewhere else, brought here and carefully laid out."
"Died of unknown causes."
"That's all I want known. If someone else knows more than that, I'll know they bear talking to."
"What about the undertaker? Can you trust his discretion?"
I smiled. "He's no more honest than he needs be. Cross his palm and his loyalty can be bought, especially if I have the body guarded."
Doc chuckled. "I will leave you to your labors. Good night, Sheriff."
"Night, Doc. Rest easy."
I eased the key in the lock and went back into the office. Locking the door behind me, I lay the Greener across the desk, turned up the lamp and examined the bullets. Doc had kindly washed them off.
They appeared to be a .44 or a .45, all right, and about standard size, so roughly 250 grains weight. I turned them sideways, held them closer to the lamp.
I frowned.
Fishing in my vest pocket, I drew out the pen knife I kept there; its blade was short but very sharp.
I tried the base of the bullet.
Gold.
"I'll be damned," I said quietly.
The nose of the bullet was completely unaffected by its adventure. I tried it with the tip of the knife. It was quite hard.
Silver?
I raised one eyebrow.
A gold base, shaped like a shot glass, with a silver core, tapered to match exactly, and then run through a die to mash the two together. The softer gold would take rifling just like lead, the harder silver would punch through a breast bone with no effort at all.
I wrapped them each in a strip of cloth, and put them in the very back corner of the top right hand desk drawer.
This was no common murder.
I'd seen this once before, in Wyoming: in the Judge's chambers, the fine old man examined the S.C.O.L.D. coin and uttered the opinion that the deceased needed killin', case closed.
The Wyoming case involved this same kind of bullet.
I thought of the Reverend Sopris. Come sunup, I would take a good look around, look at the mannikin with a little better light to see by, take a look around. Wagon tracks should still show up, especially if I caught it before the morning dew evaporated ... hoofprints, if I was lucky ...
I had suspected for some time the good Reverend was a S.C.O.L.D...
I turned the lamp down, blew out the flame, leaned back in the chair.
It would be daylight soon, and Daisy would be stoking the fire for breakfast.
Good thing.
I was hungry.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Linn Keller 8-24-07

 

I went back into the church, found a lantern. Like everything else in the good Reverend's quarters, the lantern was pristine: globe sparkling, reservoir filled, wick trimmed, it wanted only a Lucifer match to bring it to life.
I held the lantern close to the ground, and Charlie and I scouted for tracks.
Most everything leaves trail a man can follow, whether it's an animal, a wanted man, or stolen money ... almost everything, but not here, not now.
We carefully drew back the drape that had covered the good Reverend's lifeless body. The drape itself was not revealing; the ground under it was equally mute.
Dawg ran out his tongue and laughed, as dawgs do.
We each picked up a coin. "Reckon this means there's work yet to be done."
"Reckon so."
We looked at the carcasses.
"Thus perishes evil," I said quietly.
"Was it not for this" -- Charlie squatted, touched the bloom with an exploring finger tip -- "I'd be looking for Luke right about now." He snorted. "I believe we can exclude him from our list of suspects."
Dawg leaned against Charlie and sighed. Charlie's fingers ruffled behind Dawg's ears. Dawg groaned and shut his eyes in sheer bliss.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Duzy Wales 8-24-07

 

Kid asked me to post this.....


In the end, man answers for the things he’s done; good and bad, and whatever purgatory lies ahead was always there, waiting.

Luke was a man to be reckoned with for sure, Sopris knew by looking at others, someone would answer the call. Some folks just ask for trouble. Luke was one of those.

Another dark night befell the Firelands hamlet, darker then usual, dark shadows moved through the silent night without nearly a trace. As Linn and Charlie made their rounds, once again seeing the Rev. Sopris in his rocking chair in front of the fire reading the Bible, came as no surprise. But what was different?

The silent night air was broke with a whimper of a sad passing, Charlie said, “That sounds like Dawg!” Rushing toward the graveyard filled with yesterdays haunts the two lawmen stumbled across a body.

Striking a match, that was taken from his tweed vest Linn saw the face of Carsey, a single bullet wound dead center through the heart. In the bullet driven cavity stood a trimmed and thorny rose. Clutched in the right hand was another clasp of a hand, belonging to Luke. He too was fitted with a bullet cavity through the heart with a trimmed thorny rose stuck in the hole.

It wouldn’t be till Doc dug through the bodies that they would find a single bullet in each man comprising of half Gold and half Silver. The 200 gr. Slug really did its job.

In the darkness not 20 feet away laid another dark and draped lifeless body, with no signs of foul play. No knife or bullet wounds, not even a drop of blood. The horror upon Charlie’s face could not be contained; the sight sent him back on his rump, gasping for air in disbelief. Linn caught a glimpse of the usually self controlled man, quickly rushed to view what had taken Charlie’s breath.

Linn Spoke first, “How, we just saw…But what…how can this be…” Both men covered the face of the draped body and ran back to the church. Entering through the back door they found their ever solemn reverend reading his Bible. Content without a worry in the world, Bible in hand and a perfectly balanced rocking chair that never stopped. The Life like manikin form was too real like. Charlie removed the manikin from the chair and laid it on the floor covering it with blankets. Coffee was still hot and the only personal belongings left behind was a deed executed by Rev. Sopris deeding the land and all of it’s belongings to the ‘Sacred Christian Order of Law Dawgs’, Washington D.C.

Scurrying back to the graveyard they found Dawg standing guard with a rose in his mouth over the empty dark drape laying upon the ground. Not only was the original lifeless body of Reverend Sopris, once believed dead, now missing and no explanation, but all that remained behind were two GOLD S.C.O.L.D. coins.

Something about graveyards…Linn asked, “Why can’t that darn ol dog talk?”

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Duzy Wales 8-24-07

 

Luke looked at the address he had been given and quickly found the office. When he walked in, he asked, “Hello, I am looking for Mr. Carsey.” Mr. Moulton shook Luke’s hand, taking in his fancy clothes right down to his spit shined shoes, and simply said, “Hello.” “I’m Luke Hawkins, from North Carolina; I think you are expecting me.” “That depends, sir, on what you are here for?” Thinking that Mr. Carsey was being careful, Luke laughed, and said, “I work at obtaining properties and mineral rights, Mr. Carsey, as I know you do, as well. “Oh yes, I definitely am interested in whatever information you can give me and happy to meet someone with the same interests as myself. Why don’t you sit down and we will talk, you first, Mr. Hawkins.” Within the next hour, Mr. Moulton was armed with a lot of interesting information. He then stood and said, “you will find Mr. Carsey at the jail, I am sure he will be happy to see you! Sheriff Keller may have some questions as well.” Luke was taken aback and finally said, “You will pay for this, and I won’t even ask your name, as I wouldn’t be able to believe you anyway, but I will find out before I kill you!”

Luke was outraged and couldn’t believe he had let some small town hick of an attorney, if he was one, fool him like that! He had given the man some vital information, even naming some important names and contacts. He would have to make sure, whoever he was, that he wouldn’t get the chance to relay that information to anyone else. Mr. Moulton had been talking to Marshall MacNeil when they saw Mr. Hawkins walking up to the office and Charlie was waiting and listening in the back room to everything Luke Hawkins had said. “Sounds like I may have put you in some danger, Mr. Moulton,” the Marshall said. “Won’t be the first time and I am happy to help out, Marshall, and I will be sure to be watching my back, as I doubt this is the last I see of him. What do you plan to do?” Marshall MacNeil thought for a minute in that calm way of his, and said, “Give him enough rope to hang himself, as we do not have enough to charge him yet. We do have more information to go by, thanks to you, so be very careful Mr. Moulton!”

Luke headed toward the jail to see if it was true that Mr. Carsey had been arrested and wondered why he hadn’t been notified! Then, he remembered he hadn’t checked the telegraph offices lately, as he had been “busy” with other things during the train stops and after reaching Firelands. “Damn! You have got to forget about the women and concentrate on getting this job finished and get Duzy back to North Carolina!” he told himself, mentally kicking himself as he walked.

Duzy was listening to Bonnie’s advice and knew her Papa had warned her as well. She wasn’t sure she understood exactly what Bonnie was trying to tell her, but she trusted her and would certainly be more careful, telling Bonnie that, and how wonderful her new business was coming along! About that time, Sarah arrived and Duzy hugged her, telling Bonnie “it looks like your Daughter is being bribed,” and laughingly walked away, so Bonnie could talk to Mr. Moulton alone when he caught up with Sarah. She turned in the direction of the newspaper office building to talk to Tom Landers.

Just at that moment Luke looked over toward the hotel and saw Duzy walking away from the woman that had been at her home last night…he didn’t recall getting her name, but the little brat was with her. Duzy then walked over to a man, who was looking over some blueprints, with a team of workers standing ready to start work. “Damn her,” he thought, aloud. She was the main reason he took this mission, as he could have let one of the others do it, but thought he would mix business with pleasure, by meeting with Carsey and wooing Duzy at the same time. Now, he would have to kill the impostor….at least things seemed to be working with Duzy, as he could remember the feel of his lips on hers, and knew all she needed was a man of experience to ignite the passion, that he now knew was there. He had learned how to give her just enough to make her want more! He could tell she was still innocent in the ways of lovemaking, and that made him feel even more powerful. He turned and slipped up behind her, leaning close and kissing the back of her neck, before saying, “hello again darlin’!”

Luke's familiarity in front of everyone infuriated Duzy and she turned and slapped him hard right across the face, saying "How dare you, Luke Hawkins, keep your hands and mouth off of me! Just who in the hell do you think you are? I think I am beginning to see exactly what some people have tried to tell me, now get out of my sight! Go back to North Carolina or to hell, whichever comes first!"

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Lady Leigh 8-24-07

 

Bonnie was glad to get away from the house and those damnable smelly roses that Luke brought for Duzy. "What is she thinking accepting them?" Bonnie mumbled out loud to herself, "He's a leach! I just know it!!"

"Bonnie?" Duzy just entered one of the newest businesses to be added to Firelands, and as Duzy was questioning Bonnie for thinking outloud -- which was becoming a habit these days -- she was looking at W.J.'s cousin paint the words "House of McKenna" onto the front window with gold edged in black paint, and then looked back to Bonnie. "I have a sneaking suspician you are referring to me?"

"I should probably be feeling embarrased, or even chagrined, but you know what, Duzy? I don't! What are you thinking giving the likes of Luke Hawkins even an inch of your time? I honestly do NOT believe he has your best interest at heart! Honestly, Duzy, how could he when one of the first things he does is tell you how he thought you'd be back east now and him thinking you would have given up on Firelands! He obviously does not trust you or your instincts!"

"I know Bonnie ... I can't explain it ... no, I don't love him and no, I can't see myself married to him ... but there is something about him ..."

"Good girls are often attracted to bad boys, that's what the problem is!"

"What do you mean, Bonnie?"

"Just what I said, Duzy ... there is something about a guy who lives on the edge of 'bad' that girls seem to be attracted to. The only problem with 'Luke Hawkins', is my gutt instinct is, he's more than a little bad."

"How do come up with that assumption, Bonnie?" Duzy actually asked that with a bit of anger in her voice. How was Bonnie supposed to tell Duzy her reasons for feeling that way when it just appeared that Duzy may be defending Luke? How could Bonnie tell Duzy that in 5 brief minutes, Bonnie saw Luke look lecherously at as many women? The man was slim! Plain and simple, slim!

"Oh Duzy .... I can just tell ..."

"Maybe I have misjudged him! Maybe he is someone who I could have romantic feelings for!" Duzy was remembering the kiss they had shared. Remembering the burning sensation that was beginning to grow from within her as he ardently kissed her. "Don't you have any desire to have feeling for a man, Bonnie? Don't you know how I may be feeling?"

Bonnie did not know how to respond to Duzy, and as a result, silent moments passed. Quietly, Bonnie answered, "Of course I would like to find a man with whom I can fall in love with. Of course I would love to desire and be desired, Duzy .... I am not to sure that is something that can happen to me at this point in my life ...." Thinking to herself how easily something like that could have happened to her before three years ago.

It was at that moment, Sarah came skipping in, "Bonnie? That Mr. Moulton is on his way over here."

"Oh? And how do you know that?"

"Because he told me when he handed me the candy stick!"

Duzy chuckled and then looked over to Bonnie, "I think your daughter is being bribed!"

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Linn Keller 8-23-07

 

Esther took my arm. "Delighted, sir," she said with a curtsy, and we laughed again.
"If I may, I will call for you in ... oh, say, two hours?"
"An hour will do," she smiled.
"An hour it is." I looked at the door. "Kind of hard on the door, aren't they?"
Esther sighed. "They are but young." She turned back to me. "But then you haven't see me angry, either!" Mischief danced in he eyes and I tried to imagine her under a good head of steam.
"Don't believe it would be safe to be in the same county," I replied. "You have always been so sweet and even tempered, I don't believe I'd ever want to see you with your fuse lit!"
"Until later, Sheriff."
"Until later, Miz Esther."

Daisy had a table ready for us, in the back corner; a new tablecloth, not just a clean one; the floor was not just swept, it was immaculate -- in fairness, since she took over the hotel, she saw to it the girls did nothing short of first-rate work -- every lamp chimney was sparkling, every wick was trimmed, and the woodwork was polished.
I hadn't cleaned up too badly myself. I was wearing my new suit, freshly brushed, boots polished, and my new hat. I'd rented a buggy from Shorty for the occasion. Sam remained in the livery, as he was a bit large for our needs: if we'd had a little more time we could have modified the traces, but I'm afraid we would have looked a bit silly, with great big Sam pulling that little bitty buggy. It would have looked like he was towing a postage stamp.
Lightning's boy, true to his word, was waiting on us when we arrived, and took the buggy to the livery; when we were done for the evening, he would fetch it back.
The mounting stone in front of the hotel had been placed to facilitate ladies' mounting or dismounting a wagon, or a saddle horse; I found it easier, when Esther gathered her skirts, to seize her about the waist and set her feet gently on the board walk. She gave a little "Ooo!" of surprise, but she was not displeased.
Bless you, Daisy, I thought, you even swept off the board walk!


"Is that him?" Gailen asked.
Emmett nodded.
As one, the six stepped out of the shadow, crossing the quiet evening street.

Esther had expressed her admiration of the curtains. I had not noticed them, but men seldom notice such things, as men normally work in metal or in wood, where women work in cloth. An artist tends to recognize work done in their own field.
Daisy seated us at the selected table. My back was to a wall, we were in a corner; I had enough room for a clean draw while seated, should the need arise. Esther settled herself in her chair, and I scooted it in under her.
Esther asked for tea, and I did too, with honey. Daisy smiled. She'd just rendered out a honey comb the day before, and gathered the wax. I'd smelled the warmed bees wax that afternoon and knew she was pouring it into cakes and perhaps dipping candles.
Daisy brought our meal. She had surpassed herself. In the brief time she'd taken over running the hotel, she managed to horse trade for a good selection of spices, and she was not bashful about using them. The beef was an exceptionally good cut, and tender enough to fork cut, and she must have beat the potatoes for a day and a half, for there was not a single lump to be found.
I tried my hand at beating potatoes once and might as well have cut the spuds up in marble sized chunks instead.
Esther closed her eyes and inhaled the steam off her green beans and bacon.
"Do you know," she said quietly, "this was one of my favorite meals as a child?"
"I will remember that," I said.
We each tried a forkful.
Whatever I was paying Daisy, it wasn't near enough, I decided.
Daisy brought our tea. "More when you want it," she said, and swept away with a knowing wink.
We were not the only diners that night, and our presence did not go unnoticed, nor did the arrival of a half dozen tall, range fellows with the look of men who've been on the trail for some time.
I unbuttoned my coat.
The six looked around, saw us, came toward us.
The lead man removed his hat. "I know you," he said in the accent of a Southern native.
"Many men do," I replied, "but you have the advantage of me, suh."
There was ever so slight a change of his expression. He produced a stiff paper sheet, handed it to me.
I looked at it.
It was a young officer, on horseback, firing a pistol.
I remembered the scene.
There were two other well-executed pencil drawings on the page,both of a young soldier's face. I smiled a little and nodded.
"Esther," I said, "this is how I looked as a young man," and handed the sheet to her.
I stood, easily, sliding the chair back, getting my stance. "Gentlemen, may I present Miss Esther Wales, of the Carolinas. Forgive me, gentlemen, I don't believe we've been introduced."
"Miz Wales," the six chorused with a gentlemanly nod.
"Suh, you saved the honor of my sister," the first man said. "I was the little boy."
I remembered.
I remember asking him why his face was bleeding,and being told he'd tried to prevent the soldiers from seizing his sister. He'd been backhanded out of the way. He was standing there when I shot my own men, caught in the act; he'd come over and seized them and rolled them off his sister, snarling like a wild cat. He pointed out the others who'd fled at my approach, but who had happily beaten his sister and ripped her dress free, and he watched, cold-eyed, as I had them hanged.
"She lived a long life, suh. A happy life. We have you to thank for that." He extended his hand. "Emmett Daine."
"Linn Keller." I took his hand. It was hard, callused, strong, much like my own, but drier, leaner.
"These are my brothers and cousins," Emmett indicated with a gesture of his dusty hat. "We come to thank you."
They turned, as one, and left.
Daisy struck a note on a fiddle.
One of the Kentuckians hesitated, came back into the dining room.
Daisy smiled. "I'm afraid I can't quite get it tuned."
"May I?" He took the fiddle from her, turned it over, tapped its curly-maple back experimentally; his fingers explored its joints, tested its strings. Daisy handed him a cake of rosin and he drew the bow across it.
Another minute and it was tuned to his satisfaction.
He settled the fiddle under his chin and closed his eyes, smiling a little, just a little, and set his bow.
"A waltz!" Esther exclaimed quietly. "How lovely!"
"May I have this dance?" I asked, extending my hand.
Esther took my hand.
Tables were moved, chairs whisked away; Esther drew herself up, I drew her lightly into me, and we waltzed.
I had learned the waltz while in the South, and loved its stately cadence: I loved that a woman was more feminine, a man more manly, I loved that we were dressed up for the occasion.
Esther's gown swung as she turned, and the world shrank, and there were the lamps and there was the music and there was Esther, and we waltzed.
The Kentuckian earned a good meal and more that night. Esther asked his plans and hired him to play, once their business was up and running. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
We watzed until we were tired, and we sat, and Daisy had hot tea for us; the table had been cleared, and there was pie, and we talked.
Esther had thought out matters pretty well. She had fixtures on their way for her new business, and she'd arranged for carpenters, and a supply of lumber, nails, windows and the like; she knew to consult others as needed, and she'd been drawing up lists and going over them with her consultants.
Lightning's son was happily clogging in the middle of the floor, and the Kentuckian was playing a light, lively tune, the perfect counterpoint to the clogger's efforts; not to be outdone, Sally, attracted by the fiddling, overcame her shyness and danced a fine clog herself, skirts bunched up in her delicate little fists.
"Do you clog, Linn?" Esther asked mischeviously.
"No, afraid not," I admitted.
"Neither do I, but it does look like such fun!"
"Like to try it?"
"Oh, no," she said, "I waltz much better than I could ever clog!"
"Me too."
The fiddler handed the instrument back to Daisy and accepted the meal; they spoke for a little while, then Daisy came over and asked, "He says he hears you're building a gambling hall and wants to know if you can use a fiddler."
The answer was yes.

Esther and I walked through the hotel, we walked in front of the hotel, we walked behind the hotel; I approximated property lines, paced off lots, used a stick to draw designs and diagrams in the dirt. Esther squinted up at floors yet unbuilt, at walls yet to be erected, and described, and pointed; we went back inside, for more tea and pie and plans. Esther's eyes shining.
The mahogany bar and mirror and much more were on their way.
The new business would not be far behind.
"Have you a name for this fine new emporium?" I asked.
Esther smiled, and named me the name.
"The Silver Jewel!"

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Linn Keller 8-23-07

 

I wiped the nib with the corner of a cleaning rag and closed the lid on the ink well. My log book went back in the right-hand desk drawer, the dip quill went back in its slot in the top drawer, and I leaned back in my chair and considered.
Tom Landers, Charlie and I worked a rotating watch to keep an eye on our prisoners. Their testimony would be vital in the trial to come. I had deposed them both, their sworn statements were duly notarized and on file, with copies in my desk and in attorney Moulton's office, and instructions on how to proceed in the event of my demise. I am not a trusting man, and learned at a tender age there are those who would cause harm.
Especially, I reflected, when it came to a gold strike.
I needed to go over to the hotel and see how the girls were faring, and make a saloon check and make sure all was quiet, or at least not developed into a young war. I was not above letting folks blow off steam, but all things have their limits, and I had made it plain there were limits.
"Charlie," I said, "I'll be back in a bit. Can you watch our guests til I get back?"
Charlie nodded, his eyes smiling just a little. I could tell he was thinking, too.
I settled the hat on my head and looked out the door before stepping out onto the boardwalk. Shorty waved from the livery, a companionable gesture, a greeting rather than a hail. I waved back and walked across to Sam's saloon, then to the hotel.
I walked back into the kitchen. Daisy was tending to Sally's face and neck. A well worn butcher knife was in easy reach and I saw her hand flinch toward it, for just a moment, until she recognized me. "Sheriff!" she exclaimed, surprised.
I strode across the kitchen, saw Sally's face, and the way she cradled her arm. I brushed a wisp of hair out of her eyes. "Sally?" I said in a soft voice.
Sally flinched like she'd been slapped.
"Sally, you're safe," I said, soothing her with my voice, touching only that wisp of hair that kept falling down over her forehead. She was a sweet girl, a wee slip of a thing, even a little timid. She'd been beaten and beat down so often as one of the working girls I'd been afraid she would never crawl out of the hole she'd been driven into.
"No one will hurt you here," I said. "Do you know me, Sally?"
Sally started to tremble like a scared rabbit, and her face screwed up, and she started to cry. I was squatting, weight on the balls of my feet, and I rolled forward onto my knees, knowing I would be there for a bit. Sally grabbed me and buried her face in my shoulder and cried like a frightened child.
I held her, gently, not knowing where else she might be hurt, and not wanting her to feel trapped: at the same time I knew she would need the assurance of arms around her, protecting her.
Daisy watched the door and I shifted my weight. I had a clear shot at the door, should that be necessary, and the other door to the kitchen was behind me and to my left: I could see it clearly enough, no one could come in without my knowing it.
I spoke quietly, gently, soothing Sally as best I could. She cried herself out, or maybe she thought I would be angry with her. The moment I felt her start to lean back I removed my arms, but put my hands on her shoulders, lightly, gently -- again, I did not want her to feel held or confined. She was scared enough the way it was.
"You don't deserve to be hurt," I said quietly. "You don't deserve to be slapped, or spanked, or hit, or anything else. You are a lovely lass and you are safe here." I looked up at Daisy. "Do we still need help here?"
Daisy smiled, a little, and nodded. "I've already told her she can work here and stay here, and you pay good wages."
I let go of Sally's shoulders. Kneeling, I was about eye level with her, and her slight build struck me all the more. God help us, who would hurt a little girl like this? I thought, and had to correct myself: she is a woman grown; she is not that young, I am that old.
"Do you want to tell me who did this to you?" I asked gently.
Sally's eyes were still fixed on the floor. She bit her bottom lip and shook her head.
I took a deep breath. This was too often the case, I thought: they have their reasons -- they've been hurt, they want to forget it happened, they're afraid of repercussions -- for whatever reason, they don't want to tell who hurt them. In time they would -- in their own good time -- but I would cause more harm by dragging it out of her.
I took her slender hand between both of mine. "Whevever you're ready to talk about it, I'm ready to listen. In the meantime I'd like you to work for me, here, in the hotel. Daisy can tell you what needs done."
Sally nodded.
"Daisy?" Daisy and I crossed to the other side of the kitchen. "How bad is she hurt?"
"I've seen worse." The answer was factual more than uncaring.
"Do I need to send for the doc?"
"No. She'll be all right with a good night's rest and knowing she's safe."
"Do you know who did this?"
"She hasn't told me. Said she couldn't." Daisy crossed her arms, pressed her lips together.
I nodded. "I came over for another reason."
Daisy tilted her head a little, listening.
"I'd like to bring Miz Esther in tonight for dinner. What's good tonight?"
Daisy smiled. "You're in luck. Some folks were passing through and traded me some fresh fish for potatoes. I've some good tender beef and I'll be fixing gravy and probably mashed potatoes." She smiled. "And green beans with bacon."
"Daisy, that would be wonderful," I said quietly, not wanting to disturb the quiet in the kitchen; looking back at Sally, I asked, "Will she be all right?"
Daisy's look was sharp, angry, but her voice never changed. "She's just been hurt. Will she be all right? Eventually. For tonight I'll keep her with me, here in the kitchen. She feels safe here."

Sam was glad to be out of the livery and under saddle again. I rode a wide circle around town, Sam's long legged pace eating up distance easily. I stopped and picked a bunch of prairie flowers. Was I going to call on a lady, it would be proper to bring her flowers.
Dawg politely ignored Sam and I as we rode up. I saw a curtain twitch as eyes inside looked to see whose arrival was presaged by hoof beats, then the door swung open and Sarah came running out. I was barely on the ground before she was hugging me. "Sheriff Keller! Can I ride Sam again?"
I grinned broadly. "Indeed you may!" I exclaimed, hoisting her easily into my saddle. She squealed with delight as I walked Sam around the yard.
Dawg investigated a migrating itch.
We turned and walked back to the hitching rail.
Esther was on the porch, smiling.
"Aunt Esther! Did you see me ride Sam?" Sarah crowed.
"Yes I did," Esther smiled. "Did you enjoy it?"
"Oh, yes! May I go again?"
"I have business with your aunt," I replied. "But there will be more rides." I swung her to the ground, spinning her around at arm's length, provoking a festival of giggles.
Dawg yawned.
Sarah went running into the house. "Bonnie! Bonnie! I rode Sam!" SLAM! the front door added a woody exclamation mark to her happy voice.
I offered the prairie flowers. "Thought these might look nice on your table," I said.
Esther took them. Her eyes were troubled, then softened. "I love roses, but I love these more," she said. "We have nothing like these back East."
Her eyes smiled, then she looked down, ladylike, demure.
The door swung abruptly open. "Aunt Esther, I'm going to throw these roses -- oh! Mr. Keller! I'm sorry!" Bonnie was trying hard to get her mental feet back under her. "It's just that--" I could see she had a handful of roses, and she was agitated --"oh, never mind!" SLAM!
I looked down at Esther, and Esther looked up at me, and we both laughed.
I presented my elbow. "My dear, would you do me the honor of dinner tonight, at the finest emporium in town?"

[Firelands-The Beginning]

 

Charlie MacNeil 8-23-07

 

Dawg had seen the nice lady leave the house with the man. He could sense something bad about the man, so he drifted along out of sight of the couple, watching carefully. He saw the man bring his face to the nice lady's and the hair on the back of his neck stood up and a growl bubbled deep in his chest.

Dawg ghosted from the brush along the creek. The two people were preoccupied with their discussion and didn't see him. His footsteps were soundless in the soft grass.

Dawg came up behind the man and his jaws opened. The growl burst full-blown from his chest and his lips curled back from his great white teeth. He lowered his head to rip the man's leg from under him.

"Dawg, no!" the nice lady said sharply. "You mustn't!"

Dawg's jaws closed with the snap of a steel trap a hair's breadth from the man's leg. The man stared down at him malevolently but he was careful to let none of his feelings show on his face. Dawg moved over to stand beside Duzy and rumblings like a mine cave-in moved deep in his massive chest. His hackles were raised and he looked twice his normal size.

After a brief conversation the man turned to go, but he glared balefully at Dawg before he went. Dawg knew he had made an enemy, but he wasn't worried. He'd made enemies before, and they were all behind him. None of them were in any shape to do him harm.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Duzy Wales 8-23-07

 

Reverend Sopris escorted the ladies home and had a cup of vanilla coffee before bidding them “goodnight.” His blue eyes were almost grey and his mood was deadly quiet, but no one knew what he was thinking as he headed back to the church. The evening was late, and after finishing some paperwork, he tried to sleep.

After Reverend Kid left, Duzy asked Bonnie if she really thought Luke was evil. “I have known him all my life, and never known him to be evil, although I was away at school most of the time.” Aunt Esther was listening from the corner of the room, but she didn’t say anything, knowing her niece would figure it out soon enough. “It is in his eyes, Duzy, I have seen his type before, just please be careful and do not be too trusting. He is not good for you with his fancy talk and empty words.”

Jake Thomas could hear the whimpers coming from the room that Luke Hawkins had entered. “Please stop, please, you are hurting me!” were the words he could make out. “Shut up, Sally," was his reply. Jake slipped up to the door, kicked it open, and knocked Luke out cold with the butt of his Colt. “You won’t have to worry about him tonight,” he said to the woman whom Luke had been abusing. Tossing her some coins, he said, “Get out of here and go get a room at the hotel. I will try to get you some help to get out of here for good, but for now, you haven’t seen me nor do you know what just happened!” Smiling at Jake, she thanked him, promising to stay quiet, and grabbed her belongings hoping she never had to return.

When Sally entered the hotel, Daisy saw her and knew what had taken place. She tended her bruises and gave her a bed, telling her that if she wanted honest work and was willing, that she knew someone who would help her. Daisy knew that Sheriff Keller would be in need of more help at the hotel, and that he was willing to give the ladies a chance. “I will, I swear,” Sally said, “but no one can know that I was hurt at Sam’s Place. I promised the person who helped me!” Daisy agreed.

Luke awoke with a headache from hell, and couldn’t remember what had happened. He was in his own room, not the little wench’s room that he had paid for a few hours. Feeling the back of his head, it felt sticky and when he looked at his hand, he saw that it was blood! “I’ll kill that little slut,” he said and then remembered it couldn’t have been her that did it. It had to be someone who had come into the room. Remembering his mission, to get Duzy back, he cleaned the wound, and decided to stay quiet realizing he would have to be more careful.

Luke cleaned up and went downstairs where he got the information he needed, while eating breakfast. He was shocked that Duzy was not running the newspaper office at all, but had a team of workers building a gambling hall and saloon, of all things! He wondered how else she had changed since she had left North Carolina. He would soon find out as he started down the street to find the house that had been described. He passed the church yard and saw roses, and remembered Duzy had been holding a rose and a man had been standing behind her. He bent and picked a few of the roses to take to her, thinking two could play that game!

Reverend Sopris watched as Luke picked the roses without saying a word or speaking to the man. Only the Reverend knew his thoughts at that moment.

The ladies were up early and were planning their day when they heard a knock on the door. Duzy got up and noticed Luke standing outside with roses in hand. Oh my, she thought, I wonder what he has up his sleeve this morning. Answering the door, Luke gave her that charming smile and said, “Beautiful roses for a beautiful lady, good morning Duzy.” Not wanting to be rude, and also wanting to find out why Luke was there, she invited him in for some coffee. “Would you like some ground vanilla in your coffee?” Duzy asked as she put the roses in water. “No thank you, darlin’, never did like anything added to my coffee, you should know that!” “Well, people do change, Luke, as I have found I love it in my coffee and just wished to offer.” Luke looked around the room and noticed the ladies staring at him. He saw Sarah and said, “How are you young lady?” “Fine,” and then she reached for Bonnie’s hand. Bonnie was thinking how children always seemed to have that sense about people and picked her up to hold her in her lap. Luke said, “Could we take a walk, Duzy?” Duzy figured she might as well find out what he had come for, so she could quickly get him out of their lives. “Sure, we will take a short walk down by the creek, it is very pretty there.”

Luke was the perfect gentleman to Duzy as they walked and he asked how she was enjoying her work at the newspaper office. “I have changed plans, Luke, as I have bought some property and plan to build my own business.” “I was hoping you had given up on that foolishness and would return with me,” he said as he reached for her face. He traced his finger along her jaw line and looking into her eyes, he said, “I have missed you so badly, I just had to come, and it is my wish to take you back with me!” He stepped nearer and Duzy could feel the heat from his body as he leaned toward her and kissed the tip of her nose. And then he surprised Duzy by pulling her against him and kissing her fully on the mouth, nothing like the kisses they had shared back home, but this time taking his time to kiss her lips, slowly at first and then kissing her with the ardor of a man of experience, making her start to feel something building inside her, and just as quickly pulling away, apologizing for his actions. “It is just that I have missed you so much, Duzy, please come back home and be my wife?”

For Duzy, it was the first kiss that had stirred her in anyway, and she didn’t know what to say for a moment. Could everyone be mistaken about him, she thought. “Luke, I already have plans here. I have a new family that I love and I am not ready for marriage. I am not in love with you and have no plans to return. I am sorry if I have hurt you, but I thought I made that clear before leaving North Carolina.” “Is it another man, Duzy, he asked gently?” “No, why would you think that?” “I noticed the man standing behind you yesterday and the rose in your hand.” Duzy laughed, and said, “The man you saw is Reverend Kid Sopris and no doubt you picked the roses you brought me from his church yard! I stopped by yesterday to pick one and he offered to escort us to the train depot!” “Just because he is a preacher, doesn’t stop him from being a man, Duzy, you amaze me at your innocence sometimes!” “Well, I can assure you that Reverend Sopris does not have his eyes on me nor anyone else here that I know of! I have been busy starting my new life and not thinking of a romance!” Duzy knew that she had just told a little white lie as she had thought of romance and she did like being around Tom Landers, but she wasn’t going to complicate things by bringing that up. Besides, she and Tom were just good friends and business partners.

GRRRRR, was all Duzy heard before Dawg nearly had Luke by the leg, getting ready to tear him away from her. “Stop Dawg,” Duzy said, and he listened, but he came by her side and stood there. “What the hell is that?” “His name is Dawg and he is our friend, he comes to play with Sarah and loves Aunt Esther’s food,” Duzy said laughing. “He is quite big and ferocious, isn’t he?” Luke knew what he would like to do to the creature, but he couldn’t let Duzy see him being anything but a perfect gentleman. He had felt her start to respond to his kiss and decided to leave for now as he knew he could slowly wear her down. He took her hand and kissed it, telling her he would see her soon, as he had business he needed to take care of. Duzy wondered what business that could be, with him new in town?

Jake Thomas had watched the scene from the distance and had felt fury when Luke had pulled Miss Wales against him. For the second time that day, the thought had come “that two could play that game.” It seemed he would have to introduce himself to Miss Wales and get to know her after all, instead of staying in the background to watch. And then he thought, what the devil are you thinking, this isn’t a game, and why are you feeling this way, as the feelings he was having were very new to Jake Thomas!”

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Linn Keller 8-23-07

 

Daisy watched with admiration as the tall Kentuckian sketched on the back of the menu. His was a rare talent; quick, short strokes coaxed a face from the heavy paper, a hat, a coat: in less than a minute she saw a portrait of a young Union officer in the act of firing a pistol from horseback. Another minute, another angle, with the face more prominent, a youthful face, clean-shaven or perhaps yet beardless.
Even upside down she knew who it was.
Emmett turned the page so she could see it, right-side-up. "Know him?"
Daisy smiled and nodded toward the doorway. "He's coming across the street right now."

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Charlie MacNeil 8-22-07

 

When Bonnie came in and began to talk to the Reverend, Charlie slipped out the back of the church and eased toward the cemetery. He carefully walked down into the draw and up to the stone and stood looking up at the tree. Again he could feel the stirring deep inside and he knew that he had to do something to at least curb it.

Charlie dropped to his knees and bowed his head. He let his hat drop to the ground as he closed his eyes and folded his hands. He began to speak softly.

"Lord, you know the darkness that hides in a man sometimes. If the darkness comes to the aid of the innocent, is it really darkness? Or is it the avenging side of the light? I've never been able to figure that one out, Lord." He paused and took a deep breath. "You know me, Lord, I've never been one to beat around the bush when it comes to trouble, I just try to take it on. I've been known to take on too much, and you've pulled my fat out of the fire more than once. I'm asking for that strength once again, Lord, 'cause I think the fire's gonna get a whole lot hotter around here before it gets cooler. I'm asking and I thank you in the name of Jesus. Amen."

Charlie stood and brushed the leaves and dirt from the knees of his pants and put on his hat. He had a train to meet.

At the station, Charlie stood aside where he could see without being especially noticed. He saw the confrontation between Miss Duzy and the slick gent from the train, and he saw what it did to her. He also saw the man dressed in black who was doing his best to vanish into the woodwork. Charlie didn't know him but he knew his type. That was a hard man who wouldn't hesitate to do what needed to be done.

Finally, just when Charlie had given up on him, a small man with slicked down hair and eyeglasses stepped down from the train. Walter Crane looked all around for Charlie and Charlie stepped out far enough for Walter to see him. Walter looked relieved and walked toward Charlie with his hand out.

"Marshal MacNeil, it's good to see you," Walter said. "It's good to see anybody who isn't wearing prison stripes." He and Charlie shook hands and Charlie saw that the Reverend, even though he was occupied with the ladies, noted the meeting. Charlie gave him a nod and escorted Walter from the platform.