The Mysterious Miner's Legacy

By Elizabeth A. Miller

For decades the town of Copper Creek had been shrouded in legend. Was the friendly Missouri town named for the stream coursing along its eastern border? Or did its identity originate from nearby copper deposits hidden long ago by the mysterious miner? Amy Kent knows the truth. But after a twenty-year absence, setting the record straight about her father’s hidden bonanza is the last thing on Amy’s mind. Rather, the chance to punish the men responsible for their bitter exile from Copper Creek has finally given her the courage to return home and change the town’s future forever.

In the spring of 1872, Amy rides into Copper Creek with anger in her heart and deceit upon her lips. In search of Michael Randolph, she is denied a reunion by his absence on business and decides to wait for his return. Meanwhile, she faces mounting complications from old friends and new residents alike. But perhaps the most disturbing obstacle to her plans for revenge is the town’s handsome doctor, Luke Owens.

Torn between a private vow and her growing admiration for the rural physician, Amy’s dilemma is further complicated by a longstanding mystery linked to her father’s closest friend. But in order to unravel the secrets of the past and seize her chance at retribution, she’ll have to choose between love and hate. Her decision will irrevocably alter her life by revealing that the mysterious miner’s true legacy is more than just a lost mine of rich copper ore.

A prequel to the Copper Creek Series of novels, The Mysterious Miner’s Legacy, goes back to Copper Creek’s early beginning to tell a tale of heartbreak, faith, courage, and redemption. With insight into the lives of pivotal characters from the original series and introductions to new members of the town, this novel adds more depth and color to an already compelling family saga.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elizabeth A. Miller
• Release date: Oct 30, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370660780

Elizabeth A. Miller

Elizabeth Miller lives and works in St. Louis, Missouri. A partner and writing director for Innovative Writing Works, with a B.A. in English and professional writing from Fontbonne University, she has had a lifelong interest in novel writing. In all Elizabeth has penned nine novels and two nonfiction trivia books, “The Reel Musical Fan’s Trivia Book” and “The Ultimate Party Games Book”. When she isn’t writing, Elizabeth likes to watch old movies and enjoys spending time outdoors with her family.

Book preview

Missouri – 1852

The blood staining Daniel Kent’s fingertips did not concern him; nor did the relentless ache in his aging knuckles, as he pounded with hammer and chisel against the unforgiving stone wall. Just a little longer, he kept telling himself. Almost there….

Each chink of his tools against the rock marked another agonizing second he could not afford to lose. The cover of night would not last forever and he must be finished before another hour was through. Just then, a gust of wind carried the scent of rain down the shaft where he was working. Its perfume renewed his efforts to hurry, as the storm’s arrival would help erase any signs of his presence.

With one last determined blow, a hefty chunk of rough-hewn rock laced with rich, russet veins of copper came loose in his hands. Daniel sighed with relief. He quickly secured this last bit of ore with the others in his saddlebags, ready to set about carrying out the second part of his plan.

Careful to select the right crevices to place his small cache of dynamite, Daniel set his charges and then hefted the heavy burden of his hard-earned treasure upon his shoulders to scramble outside. Setting down his tools on the bare ground, he drew out a box of matches from his filthy coat pocket and seethed with a sudden burst of resentment.

He could not fathom how he had come to this moment. When he’d stumbled upon this shaft of high-grade copper ore three years ago, he supposed his grim prospects had taken a turn for the better. However, time had rapidly disproved that assumption. Each deposit he made at the bank from sale of the ore came with new interest in his mining operation. Interest fueled by envy and insatiable greed. Fearful of losing such a windfall to the deceit of others, Daniel had been forced to engage in some subterfuge of his own. But after the news he’d received today, there was no point in hoping white lies would protect him any longer. He must bury his mine along with any evidence the land had been worked.

Clenching his jaw, he struck the match. With a flash of sulfur, light illuminated his lined face and he knelt to touch the flame to the fuse. But as he stepped back to watch the progress of the racing spark, his mind struggled to comprehend how a man’s good fortune could become such a curse….

Chapter 1

A Desperate Situation

Copper Creek, Missouri – 1852

Daniel Kent was a patient man. It was a trait that had served him well over the past forty years. To navigate the pitfalls of living in a cruel and unforgiving wilderness a man had to be patient, if he ever hoped to realize his dreams. Yet, for all his sage years, Daniel Kent was no less dismayed by what he’d just heard than if he’d been a greenhorn of twenty still bursting with optimism.

Mr. Kent? Are you unwell, sir?

What? Daniel uttered, focusing again on the bespectacled government official sitting opposite him.

I asked if you felt ill, the gentleman replied, setting aside the crisp, new map of southern Missouri territory he’d been holding.

Daniel grunted in understanding and tugged distractedly at his salt and pepper beard.

I realize this news must be a blow to you.

Some, Kent admitted dourly. He turned to look out the cabin window at the placid waters of Copper Creek flowing past his homestead and clenched his jaw.

Shall I fetch your daughter, Mr. Kent?

That won’t be necessary, Mr. Hutchins.

As you wish.

Nothing is as I wish, Kent brooded.

No. I suppose not, Hutchins acceded. But before we conclude our interview, I must have confirmation you understand the findings of the government’s survey.

Huh? Daniel uttered, furrowing his brow.

Jeremy Hutchins pursed his thin lips in exasperation. He disliked repeating himself, but such a fate seemed inevitable as long as Mr. Kent remained distracted.

Look here, he said in exasperation. Smoothing out the map on the large square table in front of him, Hutchins pointed to a tiny dot in the lower left of the document remarking, As I told you before, Mr. Kent, this is your homestead, here. Twelve miles to the northeast marks the town’s southern boundary and two miles from your cabin to the west is the parcel of land you claimed for mining purposes. However, if you’ll note the bend of the stream, he went on, tracing the long snaky line of Copper Creek with his finger, you’ll see that according to our survey results, that property lies well within the outer perimeter of Mr. Lowell’s original land grant.

Yes. I see.

Then, do I have your assurance you will revoke any further claim to Mr. Lowell’s property and desist at once in attempting to work the site?

There is no other alternative?

You could of course purchase the land. Mr. Lowell informed me he would be willing to sell for a profit.

How much?

Thirty percent.

Kent dropped one large fist to the table in disgust. I can’t afford to satisfy Mr. Lowell’s greed.

It is a fair market value for such prime real estate.

It is a swindle.

"Never the less, Mr. Lowell is entitled to set any price he deems suitable on his property, Hutchins insisted, primly folding his hands over his sizeable midriff. I see no reason why you should take offense. It’s not as if you have to accept his offer. Your home here is not in jeopardy of seizure."

No. Only my..., Kent broke off abruptly.

Yes?

I was going to say my reputation, Kent amended awkwardly. I don’t like to be taken for a fool.

Fool?

What else would you call a man filing a mining claim on land that is already owned by someone else?

It was an honest mistake, Hutchins consoled. The whims of Copper Creek have made discerning property lines quite difficult for some time. Why, I myself was—

Indeed, Mr. Hutchins, Kent interrupted, rising from his chair. But if you have no further business, your news has left me without a claim to work and so I think it best if I start at once to try and locate another.

Taken aback, the rotund, little man blinked up at him in dismay. Yes, well.... the dull baritone of Hutchins voice trailed away as he began gathering his papers to return them to his leather portfolio.

Kent crossed to the front door and waited for his visitor to rise. After tucking the portfolio under his left arm, Hutchins replaced his sleek derby and stepped around the table to shake hands with Daniel Kent. I thank you for your hospitality, sir.

No thanks is necessary, Kent assured him. I appreciate you coming out here in person to inform me of your findings.

Just doing my job, Hutchins assured him, withdrawing his hand. But now that you know, I must stress once again the importance of avoiding any unpleasant complications by trespassing on Mr. Lowell’s property.

"No. In that we are in complete agreement. There will be no complications from trespassing. Kent offered the government man a cool smile. Good day to you, Mr. Hutchins."

Good day, he echoed, as Kent swung open the door and stepped aside to let his caller pass.

Daniel Kent watched from the window until Hutchins’ buggy pulled away from the front of the house. A creak from the floorboards behind him did not break his concentration, as he observed the officious man’s progress down the uneven dirt road.

You heard? he asked, still staring out the window.

Every word, Papa.

Hutchins conveyance disappeared around the bend and Kent turned to face his daughter. Slender and brown from hours of working out of doors, she had her late mother’s luxurious russet brown hair and soft grey eyes. However, at nineteen, Amy still lacked Sarah Kent’s more obvious beauty, appearing plain and sturdy rather than glamorous and refined.

What are we going to do? she added, tugging on the hem of her faded blue apron.

The only thing we can, he answered gruffly. Hide the real mine and leave until Lowell’s toadies aren’t watching so closely.

Leave! How can we? Amy’s voice shook, as she tried to hold back tears. Everything she loved most was right here. If she ever had to leave…why, the mere thought made Amy heartsick.

Pained to see his daughter so upset, Daniel Kent held out his hand and drew Amy to his side. She nestled gratefully against her father’s broad chest, comforted by his warm embrace.

We’d only have to go for a little while, he uttered, tenderly cradling her head. We could sneak back to the mine one last time, take enough copper to stake us to some extra savings, then seal up the entrance so no one will find it. After a few years, we could come back.

Years! Amy repeated in dismay.

I don’t like it any better than you, Daniel assured her. But we don’t have much choice. Now that this government survey has stirred things up, it will be impossible to go on pretending our copper is coming from anywhere but Lowell’s property. We’ll have to move on until I’m sure I can reopen the shaft without raising suspicions.

But where would we go?

I was thinking St. Louis. Now, that’s not too far, is it?

Any place is too far, Amy sulked. And what about our house?

The cabin will still be here. I could even get Earl Garrety to watch over the place for us, if it would make you feel better. He’s been a good friend and I’m sure he’d appreciate a solid roof over his head for awhile.

No, Amy interrupted. I don’t want to go.

Kent reached out for his daughter’s hands. Amy, he began gently. I understand how you feel. And I’m not denying this won’t be easy. But you know that once those jaspers in town find out about this survey, our hands are tied. If we keep sending ore to New Orleans, we’ll be putting ourselves at risk either for arrest or exposure. If we stay here, and stop taking copper from the mine altogether, we’ll starve.

There must be something else we can do besides running away, Amy argued. Why not set up a false claim somewhere else?

Where? According to that blasted map Hutchins showed me, Lowell owns every scrap of territory for miles around…except this spot where we’re standing.

He can’t own everything.

He owns enough of it that I’d have to spend days traveling back and forth to a dummy mine just to make our story look legitimate and that wouldn’t leave me enough time to work our diggings on Hennessey’s Slope.

But I could—

No, Amy! Kent asserted. My way is best. Trust me. Please.

Tears were glistening in Amy’s eyes as she looked up at her father. And what about Mamma? We’ll have to leave her too or doesn’t that matter?

Wounded by the reminder of his wife, Daniel prepared himself to explain further, but Amy wouldn’t listen. Overwhelmed, she pulled away from her father and ran out the back door.

*****

Amy made her way across a barren patch of dirt, past the dusty shack that served as a barn and pressed on to a green meadow dotted with cottonwoods. When she reached the shady knoll, she stopped and fell beside the stone that marked her mother’s grave. On and on she wept with no one to hear her except the chirping crickets and a sassy blue jay scolding her from his perch in a nearby bush. But her sobs halted when a shadow fell across the grave. Afraid, Amy turned to look behind her. A tall young man stood there with his hat in his hand and a troubled expression on his handsome face.

George, she cried, getting to her feet. She flung her arms about his neck. It’s terrible!

What’s terrible? George Mason asked, eagerly enfolding Amy in his embrace.

He’s taking me away. Papa’s taking me away.

George held her at arm’s length. Away?

Amy nodded. He wants to leave Copper Creek.

What for?

Amy nibbled on her lower lip, uncertain if she should trust George with the reasons behind her father’s sudden decision and her doubt left her feeling twice as miserable.

What does it matter, she finally cried, throwing herself against his chest. It means the end for us, George. I’ll never be able to marry you now….

Amy collapsed against his chest, overcome by another fit of tears, while George scowled over her head

Though he was barely twenty, George Mason had long ago decided he could not abide weeping women. Despite his distaste for tears, the news Amy Kent had just relayed left him sufficiently stunned to keep from admonishing her.

Oh, George, Amy sobbed. I’m so sorry. I don’t want to leave you. But how can I go against my father? Tell me what I should do.

Her question shook him from his trance. He gazed down into her moist, pleading eyes and mastering his own inner turmoil, fixed one of his most devastating smiles upon her. You are to stop worrying at once, he answered.

But—

George raised one hand to stay her protest and reached out to tenderly wipe a stray tear from her cheek.

I promised you we’d be together, he continued. Didn’t I?

Amy nodded.

Then we will. We just have to think about our problem rationally and a solution will present itself.

I doubt it.

Then you doubt me, George snapped.

Afraid she had angered him, Amy cowered. No. I didn’t mean….

The sight of her remorse instantly struck the coldness from George’s clear blue eyes. Yes, I know, he uttered repentantly. Forgive me.

"You do love me? Don’t you, George?"

Deeply, he confirmed, drawing her close. And I won’t lose you.

How, George? she uttered, transfixed by the beautiful contours of his face. How can we—

He stopped her lips with a slow, burning kiss.

When they parted, she clung to him, comforted by the reassurance of his embrace, which was beyond the efficacy of words.

You must tell me everything that’s happened, George said.

Amy stepped back so she could meet her sweetheart’s gaze. She had promised her father to keep the secret of their hidden copper mine from everyone, without exception. Any leak, any ill-chosen words might jeopardize their survival. Greed is at the core of every man, Amy girl, Daniel Kent had warned. And any one of them would go to any lengths to get their hands on a boon such as our mine. Yet, as Amy looked at George Mason, she could not believe him to be capable of such corruption. All she could see was the love beaming from his young, eager face and the promise of a wonderful future together.

Amy? George questioned gently.

She continued to stare at him, torn between loyalty to her father and the desires of her own heart.

George smiled again and earnestly clasped her hands.

Tell me, he urged.

Without further reservation, Amy nodded.

*****

Dusk had begun to envelop the Kent’s cabin when Amy finally made her way home. When she entered through the back door, she found her father sitting beside the hearth. A wreath of smoke encircled his graying head as he smoked his pipe and stared blindly into the flames of a crackling fire. The rhythmic movement of his rocking chair slowed when he heard Amy’s approach.

Are you feeling better now? he asked gently, taking another draw on his pipe.

Amy stopped and felt her cheeks turn hot.

Daniel turned to look over his shoulder at her.

I’m fine now, Papa, Amy answered his inquiring gaze.

Your mother always did manage to make things right again when you were troubled.

A mix of fear and resentment gripped Amy. How did her father know she had been to her mother’s grave? And if he knew that, what else had he found out?

Reading the bewilderment on his daughter’s face, Daniel tapped out the bowl of his pipe and set it aside before adding, You were so upset when you left, I figured you wouldn’t go anywhere else but straight to your mother. Was I right?

Amy nodded, relived to learn he hadn’t followed her. I’m sorry I lost my temper, she said kneeling beside him. I shouldn’t have run out on you that way.

A slight smile curved the corner of Daniel’s mouth. I understand, he replied, reaching out to squeeze her hand.

I’ll get supper started, Amy offered, backing away.

That’d be fine, Daniel replied.

At last feeling some sense of calm, Amy started for the kitchen. But the newfound lightness in her step faded when her father added, What’d George Mason have to say for himself?

Amy froze.

What’s wrong, honey? Daniel asked rising from his chair.

Amy turned slowly to face him.

Were you spying on me? she demanded.

Her father scowled. Don’t take that tone with me.

You were! Amy shouted. How else could you have known I saw George Mason this afternoon?

Why shouldn’t I know? I’m your father. It’s my responsibility to look after you.

How could you!

Amy, stop this. There’s no reason for you to be embarrassed. I used to be young once myself. I know a thing or two about sparking. Heck, how’d you think your mother and I got together?

Amy closed her eyes and wished the floor would swallow her whole.

Honey, Daniel began. He reached out to Amy, but the feel of his touch sent her scurrying into the kitchen to hide.

Desperate to avoid any further awkwardness, Amy began noisily shifting pots on the stove so she might light the kindling inside. He father followed her, stopping at the door.

Amy, he began again.

She slammed the lid down on the stove top and kept her back to him.

I have no objections to you courting. I just want you to be careful.

Careful? Amy said, finding the nerve to face him. Of what?

Settling.

You consider George Mason settling?

He’s a nice enough boy, I suppose. But I don’t really know him and neither do you, Amy. That’s my point.

I trust George. He’s wonderful, I tell you! He’s smart and gentle and kind. He genuinely cares about me, Papa. And when I explained to him why I’d have to leave, he even managed to—

Daniel rushed forward and grabbed Amy by the wrist halting her litany of George Mason’s virtues.

What did you tell him?

Ow, Papa! You’re hurting me.

Daniel relaxed his grip, but still held his daughter fast. You didn’t tell him anything about the mine, did you?

Amy looked away.

Amy, her father pleaded, forcing her to look at him. Did you tell him our secret?

I had to, Papa, she blurted out. It was the only way he would understand.

Deflated, Daniel released Amy and fell into a brooding silence.

He wanted to help, Papa, Amy tried to explain. George and I want to be married. If I left with you now, it would spoil everything, don’t you see that?

You could have told me of your plans, Daniel said in disappointment. You didn’t have to betray me like this.

I didn’t betray you, Amy asserted.

You told him about the mine! Daniel raged.

Only that we have a hidden copper mine. I never said where it is located.

Some glimmer of hope began to take hold of Daniel and he felt his temper cool. George doesn’t know where the mine is? You’re sure?

Of course, Papa.

He didn’t ask?

I refused to tell him.

Daniel looked away and started to pace.

He was hurt, Amy went on. But when I explained I felt I had no right to tell him how to find a mine that my father rightfully owned, he understood.

None of Amy’s explanations reached Daniel. His mind was too wrapped up in planning how to escape this sudden debacle. The last stage from town had left hours ago. Yet, the cover of night would be useful if he was going to go ahead with his strategy. He stopped to look at his watch. It was a quarter to six.

…His ideas were really wonderful, Amy was saying.

Hush now, Daniel interrupted. I want you to promise me you’ll stay right here.

Why? Where are you going?

She followed her father out into the main room of the cabin where she watched him take his saddlebag off the credenza and begin to fill it with various objects scattered around the room.

What are you going to do, Papa? Amy pressed, watching him pack a hammer, chisels, and several sticks of dynamite.

To protect what’s ours, Daniel replied gruffly.

He finished securing the clasp on his saddlebag, and then reached for his gun belt on the peg beside the front door. Fastening the belt around his waist, he took out his six-gun to check that all the chambers were loaded and then replaced it in the holster.

Papa, Amy began, terrified he meant to do George harm. What are you going to do with that?

Daniel glared at her and said, You stay here and be ready to leave when I get back. And if you dare defy me again, so help me I…I won’t be responsible for what happens.

Chapter 2

The Mine or Your Daughter

The sound of the door slamming behind Daniel Kent gave his daughter pause. Amy had never seen her father so furious. The thought that she was responsible for such an uncharacteristic transformation riddled her with guilt. For a moment, she regretted confiding in George Mason. But then, if they were to wed, he would become a part of the family and would naturally have a right to know all of the Kent family’s business. Yet, sharing the truth of her father’s hidden mine beforehand was precipitous, perhaps even reckless.

Lost in her mental debate, her mind began to spin, anticipating the complications of her actions. But what she feared most was perhaps the only resolution to her present predicament; choose between her father and George. But how? She loved them both. She wanted to please both. Tortured by the possibility of such an impossible choice, Amy began to pace. She’d pause to look out the window for any signs of her father’s return, then vainly turn back to the room to continue her aimless wandering

Hours passed. She didn’t realize how many until she heard the mantle clock softly chime ten. Shocked by the loss of time, she brushed the bangs from her forehead in frustration. What is papa doing? she worried.

Afraid she might have to go after her father, if he didn’t return soon or else risk more of his temper, should he return late and find her unprepared, she was considering going to her room to pack a small traveling bag when she heard a tap on the kitchen window. Looking up, she felt a rush of relief to see George Mason’s handsome face framed by the panes. He smiled and gestured for her to let him in the back door. Without a second thought, Amy threw open the door and rushed into George’s arms.

Sensing something was wrong, George took a step back from Amy and looked down into her troubled face.

What’s upset you? he asked. You said to come over.

Yes, Amy said distractedly. I’d forgotten.

George began looking around. Where’s your father?

Gone. I’m afraid you won’t be able to have that talk with him.

Why? Where is he?

I can’t say.

Amy, I thought we’d gotten past all that.

I can’t tell you, because I don’t know, she shouted.

When did he leave?

Hours ago and he was very angry with me.

George arched one eyebrow inquiringly.

He knows I told you about his mine, Amy confessed.

George let out a sigh. I see.

I think he went out to find you so he could…, her words trailed away in fear.

Threaten me to keep quiet, George supplied. Or worse?

No, Amy said indignantly. Papa isn’t like that. He would never—

Kill me, George interrupted.

Of course not.

Of course not, he echoed mockingly. Disgusted, George shook his head.

What is it? What did I say? Amy asked, reaching out to touch his arm.

It seems matters have become rather complicated, he replied, shrugging off her touch. "But then I’ve never let complications stand in my way before.

Amy gaped at her beloved. George, what are you saying? I don’t understand.

Smirking, George swiftly drew his gun and pointed it at Amy. Then let me make it crystal clear.

Shocked, Amy backed away from him. What do you think you’re doing?

Merely speeding up my plans.

Plans? Amy repeated, understanding his meaning, but too horrified to believe it was true.

Have a seat, George went on, forcing her down into her father’s rocking chair. Your father may not know it yet, but ownership of his mine just changed hands and you’re going to ensure he doesn’t balk about it the least little bit.

George, you aren’t serious? Amy gasped.

He cocked his gun and the grin melted from his face, transforming into a cruel, unfamiliar mask. "Deadly serious, he replied.

*****

With a potent roar, the hillside surrounding Daniel Kent’s copper mine erupted in a cloud of dust and rubble. Buried beneath the shifting earth, any signs of a mine shaft had been effectively concealed and made more obscure by the light mist beginning to fall. Shaken from his introspection by the blast, Daniel scowled at his handiwork. He was no closer