Eliza Turley

Eliza served KC a large stack of pancakes. She placed a jar of chokecherry jelly beside him, knowing it was his favorite. When KC finished eating, he jumped up and cleared the table while Eliza ate. Then he hung around to help with dishes.

She was in no hurry to clean the kitchen. If KC wanted to stay, she’d love to have him. “Tell me a little about your family. You never talk about them.”

“I grew up in Kansas—not a mountain in sight. My parents came from Ulster in Ireland. Their dream was to have land of their own and raise a family.”

“Were they homesteaders?” She placed another plate in the rinse water, and KC fished it out.

“They were. A whole group came from their province and settled together. They had lots of friends, and they could offer protection for each other. By the time I came along, there was plenty of work to keep me busy on the farm or helping a neighbor.” Although he didn’t say more, Eliza knew he was thinking about something. He continued to dry the plate in his hands though it was dry long ago.

She washed another in silence and put it into the rinse tub. As her elbow grazed against his, his attention came back to what he was doing, and he placed the plate on the stack of the others. When he reached for the next, Eliza slipped her hand in his under the water.

He held it for a moment, then said, “They were murdered, shot. What little they had was stolen. I returned home that night and found them.”

Eliza squeezed his hand, and he continued. “We had a funeral. There were no suspects. Maybe they were drifters. In one violent act, I had no family. I couldn’t live in that house. I didn’t see all the happy times—just their deaths. It was a time of decision for me. I wanted to be an agent and help someone if I could.”

Eliza leaned her head on his shoulder. “Thank you for helping us.”

“Time we left for church,” Ellis said from behind them.

“We’re about done,” Eliza replied.

“You are now,” Ellis said as he left the room.

Worry over her family and neighbors consumed Eliza’s attention during the church service that Sunday. She felt that Mr. Anders must be involved. Why else had he been at Baldwin’s house? She stared at the bald spot on the back of his head. What was he up to? She supposed that there could be any number of reasons he’d been there. He could have been buying it. Or selling it. Or maybe he was wondering what was happening to the homesteaders like she was. The first two seemed plausible, but he was no philanthropist.

She pushed her hand into her pocket and felt the crinkled paper. Bad Egg Baldwin didn’t just disappear. Her gut felt sure of that.

At the end of the meeting, Eliza watched as Mr. Anders followed Reverend Theodore to the door. She waited until the men began their little ceremony of shaking hands before she stood—on the pew.

Ellis grabbed her hand. “What are you doing? Get down.”

“Friends and neighbors.” Her voice raised above the whispered conversations around her. “Some of you are homesteaders and others are merchants or workers here in Creede. I’m sure you’ve all heard about the trouble the homesteaders are having from here to Lake City.” Eliza saw Mr. Anders listening, his ear turned to her but his face turned away. His hand had stopped mid-shake.

“I went to Bad Egg Baldwin’s house and found this note in the fireplace. I don’t believe he moved.” Eliza pulled the soot-stained note from her skirt and began to read. “‘This is your last warning to sell. Leave this house alive or dead. You have one day to decide.’” Eliza waved the paper. “I don’t think he left town. He said he’d never sell his place. I think someone made good on this threat.”

Voices raised. “What can we do about it?” a man called from the back.

“I’m asking you to watch out for the homes along that road. If you drive there to take merchandise, supplies, or to go to the mines out that way, look around. See who’s there. Watch out for us. Report anything you see that looks out of place to Marshal Wheeler.”

The voices of the congregation increased while Mr. Anders left without looking back.

KC helped Eliza down. “We should go.”

The family went directly to their wagon and left town.

“Well, that’s going to stir some things up, don’t you think, Eliza?” Ellis asked. It didn’t seem like he was expecting an answer. “If we weren’t on a bullseye before, I’m certain we are now.”

Eliza wished—not for the first time in her life—that she were less impulsive. Maybe it would have been better to wait for her uncle and father to return.

As their wagon passed the first homestead, Eliza saw a small black donkey sitting on her haunches beside the road. Immediately, MayBelle jumped up, her muzzle pointed toward the Alpins’ house, and her tail stuck straight out like a hunting dog. “Is that your donkey, KC?” she asked, pointing toward her.

“Yeah. I’ll go get her and walk her home.” As soon KC got out of the back of the wagon, MayBelle ran to the other side of the road, straight for the house.

“I can get her,” Eliza said as she got out.

“Good luck,” Ellis called over his shoulder as he drove away.

Eliza reached for the reins. MayBelle ran again, zigzagging, her voice screeching and barking. One moment, she would kick up her hind legs and the next, she would rear and beat her front legs in the air. She trotted just out of reach from one side of the road to the other as KC and Eliza tried to get hold of her. Crazy donkey.

MayBelle was teasing them and loving it, standing still until they nearly caught her, then racing away again. She stopped behind the house. This time when KC approached, she brayed loudly, and KC was able to get his hand on one of the reins. MayBelle ran, and KC turned circles to keep from being tied up. Eliza came up on the other side but stepped into the path and ended up bound to KC.

“We might be tied, but you’re caught too, pretty girl.” Eliza laughed.

KC reached for Eliza to keep himself from toppling over. “I didn’t plan this, but that’s one smart donkey.” He turned toward MayBelle. “Thank you, little gal.”

Eliza liked his smile and the small laugh lines at the corner of his eyes. He was especially handsome with the twinkle that lit his gray eyes.

A man charged out the back door and lifted a rifle at them.

“Whoa,” KC said, lifting his hands in front of him. “My donkey got away, and I’m just fetching her back. If she damaged anything, I’d be glad to pay you for it.”

MayBelle snorted and pranced in place between KC and the end of the gun.

“Settle down. That’s a girl. You’ve been quite enough trouble today.” Eliza stroked MayBelle’s forelock. “I’m sorry, Mr. Alpin. I’m your neighbor. We moved in after you’d already left. Glad to meet you.”

“Humph,” the man grumbled.

MayBelle kicked up her hind legs.

“We best get her home?” KC’s voice sounded like a question. No one moved as Mr. Alpin’s rifle stayed trained on them.

“Eliza!” Mr. Fillan yelled, his wagon pulled over at the side of the road. “Can I give you a ride home?”

KC answered, “We’d appreciate your help. Our donkey’s being a little stubborn.”

Mr. Alpin dropped the end of his rifle toward the ground. “Keep your animal away from here. I don’t like company.”

“Sorry to bother you. It won’t happen again.” KC untangled the reins, and they led the animal to the Fillans’ wagon, tying her to the back.

On the ride home, KC and Eliza leaned together. “The man back there at the house—”

“You mean Mr. Alpin?”

“I’m certain he isn’t Mr. Alpin.”

“It must be. He’s owned that house for at least ten years, and that’s one that hasn’t been sold off.”

KC looked expectantly at Eliza.

Very slowly, she said, “That man isn’t old enough to have homesteaded ten years ago. He would have had to be twenty-one back then, and he looks barely over that now.”

“Yeah.” KC’s voice lowered. “That’s the man who shot at me when we went to see the new properties.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I saw him in the spyglass. I’m pretty sure he was thinking about shooting me again when Mr. Fillan drove up. I’m hoping he doesn’t think I recognized him.”

“You didn’t seem to. You’re a very good actor.”

“This puts your family at risk. If he’s messed up in the homesteading troubles, which I’m certain he is, he might want to rid himself of any possible witnesses.” KC hung his head. “You need to stay out of this now. Let me handle it.” His voice sounded pleading. He turned and looked at her then with sadness in his gaze. “This is why Pinkerton agents don’t have attachments—it’s so no one else gets hurt.”

Eliza’s heart shriveled—no attachments. She thought she was more than that. Did he regret the roots he was putting down? Did he regret her?

“I’m so sorry, Eliza.”

She swallowed deeply but couldn’t think of the words to say or the questions to ask. She just looked away from him to watch the side of the road. Even if the expectations she’d begun to build were over, this battle wasn’t. They’re my family, and I’ll do what needs doing.

When they got to the house, they both jumped out of the wagon bed. Eliza turned her back on him but spoke over her shoulder. “You don’t need to worry about attachments, Mr. Murray.”

KC took the donkey to the barn, and Eliza went to the house to get a meal on. It was simple food on Sunday. The beef stew had cooked while they drove to meeting and back. KC didn’t come in to eat, and Eliza was glad of it except for a part of her heart that felt dark and dry.

As she was cleaning up after dinner, Kailin ran through the kitchen door with Rayna on her back. “They’re here. Come on. Ma and Pa are here!”

Eliza dropped the pan back into the wash tub and dried her hands on her apron as she followed her little sister out the front door. Her parents were hugging Ellis when the girls threw their arms around the group. She felt relief that they were home safe. Her mother pulled each of their faces to her for kisses.

When they released each other, Eliza noticed that Uncle Morris was still in the carriage while Michael walked around to his side. Her little cousin had grown a couple of feet and was the size of a bear. His sisters had changed a great deal in the eight years since they’d seen each other.  That would make Michael twenty-three, Donella and Diane twenty-one in a couple of months since they were just younger than her, and Polly and Pam were eighteen.

“Welcome!” Eliza called out to her cousins, and the hugging started again. “I’ll bet you’re tired. I’ll put some water on to heat. Come in.”

They began walking to the house, and Eliza’s mother started giving orders. “Uncle Morris will use the washroom off the kitchen as a bedroom. Ellis, move your bed in there for him. Eliza and Kailin, help the girls get settled in Ellis’s room. Get the extra quilts down and make pallets for them. Michael and Ellis, you’ll bunk in the barn. Mr. Murray already has the loft, so make yourself a place down by the stalls.”

It took an hour to get everyone somewhat settled. Eliza could feel a weight removed from her shoulders. Her ma was back, and Eliza could just be herself again.

The family went to bed early, tired out from their travels. Eliza sat in the front room. KC came in and nodded toward her. “This is for your father.” He placed a letter on the table and left.