Ripples in the Stream

By Elizabeth A. Miller

Copper Creek Series - Book 2

Could a Twist of Fate Heal a Broken Heart?
Ben Kohl rode into Copper Creek amid the aftermath of scandal and disillusionment in the fall of 1880. Michael Randolph’s passing that summer had sparked an epidemic of doubt in Copper Creek that perhaps all was not as wholesome or honest as it seemed. But remedying this perception was not Ben Kohl’s aim. Rather, he intended to seek out the keeper of Michael Randolph’s darkest secret to release an even more shocking truth on the unsuspecting populace.

That truth had been Olivia Kohl’s private heartache for more than twenty years. Abandoned by her husband just months after they’d taken their vows, she had subsequently lost their only child at birth. She had finally begun to enjoy life again when her younger brother, Henry, accepted his first assignment as pastor for the Copper Creek church. But when Ben claims the impossibility of being her son, all the sorrow of her traumatic past threatens to destroy her happiness once more.

Adamant that Olivia’s aunt sent him to find her and explain the deception she perpetrated to keep them apart, Ben’s desire to know more about his father sparks a storm of emotion leading to dangerous complications when he begins to show romantic interest in Michael’s grieving daughter, Rachel.

Forced then to choose between telling the truth or preserving a beloved memory, Olivia plans to make a brave confession. But when a deadly subterfuge, designed to exact revenge on all of Copper Creek, ignites a catastrophe no one could have foreseen it will take a twist of fate to mend more than one broken heart.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elizabeth A. Miller
• Release date: Nov 29, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370003440

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

Ripples in the Stream

Copper Creek Series - Book Two

Elizabeth A. Miller

Innovative Writing Works

St. Louis, Missouri

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 Elizabeth A. Miller.

All Rights Reserved.

Cover Image: Shutterstock -779017273

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious and entirely the product of the author’s imagination.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

About the Author

More Books

Chapter One

October 1880

The town of Copper Creek, Missouri had a lot to celebrate this Founder’s Day. Apart from the fortieth anniversary of its origins, Copper Creek and its inhabitants had narrowly escaped ruin just a few weeks earlier at the hands of a ruthless tycoon.

George Mason’s greedy plans to take over the town were precipitated by his desire to harvest the rich copper deposits he’d detected near the creek long ago. With help from his son, Thomas, and his friend, Michael Randolph, he’d intended to buy or seize all the properties built over the copper to gain a monopoly on the ore. With Thomas’ expertise in mining and Michael’s influence, as a member of the town council, Mason couldn’t see how his coup would fail. But then, he hadn’t anticipated the interference of Michael Randolph’s niece, Jane.

Had Jane not stumbled onto Mason’s plot and helped her uncle to cease his shameful participation in it, Copper Creek would be a very different place by now. Rather than a mining outpost, rife with the sounds of rumbling carts and explosions, today, Copper Creek rang with laughter and high spirits. All afternoon, the townsfolk had been participating in friendly contests and indulging in the customary picnic fare. By nightfall, the harmonious strains from a four-piece band floated on the soft evening air, announcing the start of the Founder’s Day square dance.

Jane Randolph watched as her neighbors paired off for another reel, unable to repress her regret that her aunt, Ruth, and her cousin, Rachel, were barred from these happy festivities by their grief. They were still deep in mourning over Michael’s death. In putting a stop to the Masons’ scheme, he had saved the lives of others, Rachel among them, but it had cost him his own. Such heroism was small consolation to a heartbroken wife and daughter who cared little that George Mason had been killed or that Thomas Mason had been arrested. What were such punishments compared to the reality of losing one so beloved?

Jane, too, had been affected by the death of her uncle, but in a different way than her kinswomen. Though she’d felt affection for her uncle for giving her a home after her parents died, she was far from inconsolable at his loss. Rather, she felt burdened by the secrets he’d left behind. Secrets she had vowed to keep from her family and the town to preserve both her uncle’s memory and his business, which had now become her responsibility.

Only Reverend Henry Kohl and his sister, Olivia, knew the truth about Michael’s dubious past because it was their family who had suffered at his hands. Deception, theft, betrayal, abandonment, and bigamy had all been perpetrated against them. Yet, out of compassion for Ruth and Rachel, they’d agreed with Jane to remain silent about their grievances. No one would know Michael had married Olivia and abandoned her when she was carrying their child. Nor would they hear that the babe had died at birth, sending Olivia into a tailspin of grief. Similarly, Mason’s discovery of copper beneath the town was another revelation Jane and Henry had decided to keep from their neighbors, fearing avarice would overrule good judgment and jeopardize the harmony of the community.

But, as if the weight of these confidences were not enough for one person to bear, Jane kept yet another, infinitely more profound. She and Henry Kohl were in love. Despite the strife between their families, their collaboration in defending the town against George Mason that summer had brought them together. Though neither had expected to form an attachment, neither was sorry they had. The only hindrance to their joy was a necessity for discretion. Out of respect for her uncle’s memory, Jane felt it would be indecorous to flaunt their romance so soon after his passing. As a result, her encounters with Henry had been few of late. But when Henry led her on to the dance floor that evening, the adoring look they exchanged made their feelings apparent to anyone who cared to notice.

An unreal joy flooded Jane’s senses as she held Henry’s hand and moved in and out of the pattern of the dance. When the music ended, she positively glowed and Henry reciprocated her expression of delight. He drew her to his side and they applauded with everyone else, before moving off the dance floor, arm in arm.

I like to see you smiling, Henry confessed, as they ambled away from the crowd.

I feel rather guilty about it, she replied. But I can’t seem to help it.

And why is that? He grinned at her in that endearing way of his. It couldn’t have anything to do with me, I hope.

You know it does.

Henry smiled again and they stopped to sit on a secluded bench.

I just wish I felt free to enjoy this, Jane added.

And why shouldn’t you?

Uncle Michael.

Henry’s face turned solemn. I know it isn’t easy to be surrounded by mourning, he began. And it must be even tougher keeping secrets. But Jane, we’ve both waited so long for this kind of happiness…why try to hide it?

Her expression softened under his gaze. Studying the straight, sharp lines of his handsome face, she thought how dear Henry was to her and reached out to cradle his cheek with the palm of her hand.

I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, she replied. Your love means more to me than anything and I’d never want to deny it. But, can you blame me for wishing our happiness hadn’t come at so high a cost?

No. I just can’t stand to see you worry.

I’m afraid that’s something you’ll have to get used to, Jane replied. It’s a habit I can’t seem to break.

We’ll see about that.

And just what exactly do you intend to do about it, Henry Kohl?

That mischievous light was in his eyes again.

This…, he said. Henry gently lifted her chin and kissed her. The pressure of his lips was tender and sweet and it filled Jane with delight.

When they parted, Jane nestled close to him, resting her cheek against his shoulder.

I promise you, Jane, there’s no reason to worry anymore.

"Not one?" she asked.

Not one, he replied. The past is past, so leave it where it belongs. It can’t hurt us anymore.

Jane smiled gently and squeezed him tighter, comforted by his concern, but convinced his words of consolation were unrealistic. She had learned all too well from her uncle how the past always managed to exact a price from the future.

*****

What happened to all the beer? Hank Wilson asked, stepping back from the empty cask, revolted that his glass was far from full.

Gus and Dave Lester have been hanging around here all day, Curtis Webber replied.

Aw, hell! Why wasn’t someone watchin’ ‘em! Now how’s I suppose ta have a good time?

Now, Hank. What kind of attitude is that for an employee of the Overland Stage Line?

Curt! Blast you! I can drink as much as I wanna so long as I ain’t drivin’ the stage. And I ain’t gonna be up on that box for another thirty-six hours. Which gives me more than enough time to get good and stinkin’ drunk!

Apparently not.

What you sayin’?

"Merely that you have the will but not the way…."

Hank furrowed his brow. Will ya speak plain English instead of that hoity-toity stuff!

Forgive me, Curtis replied with a mocking bow. All I meant was you can’t get drunk if there’s no beer.

I know that! What I wanna know is, what you’re going to do about it?

"Me? What can I do…hic."

Curtis Webber…you wouldn’t be trying to pull the wool over my eyes?

"Don’t be…hic…absurd."

Hank leaned in closer and took a good whiff of newspaperman.

Beer! I’d know it anywhere, Hank exclaimed.

I never touch the stuff!

Maybe not, but you sure can guzzle it!

Now…just take it easy, Hank.

Not only are you a skunk, but you’re a liar too!

"I take exception to that! As a wordsmith, both I and my paper serve as the beacon of truth for this…hic…whole town."

Then why did you blame the beer guzzlin’ on Gus and Dave?

I didn’t. You jumped to that conclusion all on your own.

Wrong answer….

Hank seized Curtis by the front of the shirt. He made a fist and eagerly drew it back to hurl a punch, when someone grabbed hold of his arm.

You don’t want to do that, Friend.

Hank turned to see a good-looking, young man standing behind him. The stranger released Hank’s arm and smirked. He was dressed like a cowboy and had an air of confidence about him that defied his years. The combination of his intense blue-grey eyes and his steady hand above a well-worn Colt .45 immediately cooled Hank’s temper.

There’s no use in hitting a drunk, the stranger added, moving his hand away from his holster. He can’t feel a thing.

True ‘nough, Hank replied. ‘course I wasn’t really gonna hurt him. Me and Curt is old friends.

The stranger raised his brow and smiled. Well, if that’s how you treat friends around here, I’d better not make any enemies.

That shouldn’t be too difficult, Curtis chimed in. Copper Creek is a friendly place.

So I see.

No. It’s true, Hank added. "Heck! I’d offer ya some beer right now, if someone hadn’t drunk it all." He glared at Curtis.

Thank you, but it really doesn’t matter. Right now, I’d prefer it if you could help me find your reverend.

What d’ya want to see him for?

Don’t be rude, Hank, Curtis corrected. This young man’s business with Henry isn’t our concern. Perhaps he has some dark, deep sin which he needs forgiven…hmm?

Nothing like that.

Too bad. We could sure use a juicy story around here.

The stranger shrugged. Is the reverend around?

Course he is, Curtis replied. I saw him dancing just a little while ago with our Janey…Lovely young woman, Janey is. Fine head on her shoulders.

That’s nice, the stranger interrupted. But which one is he?

Lad, haven’t you got eyes? Henry’s right… Curtis’ words trailed away as he looked over the couples dancing and failed to spot Henry or Jane.

I know he was right here.

Thanks anyway.

No…hold on there. After you spared me a thumping from this ruffian, I can’t let you go wandering off. I’ll take you to Henry myself.

Sure it won’t be any trouble?

Not at all. C’mon now… He squeezed the young man’s shoulder and started to lead him away when Marcus Graves bellowed to Gang way!

Curtis turned to see the hotel owner hefting a fresh keg of beer on his shoulders. He set it down on the ground to remove the empty keg and then positioned the replacement in its stead. Within seconds, the tap was foaming with fresh libation.

Hot damn! Hank crowed, slapping Curtis on the back.

Perhaps you’d like a cool drink before we begin our search, Curtis suggested.

No thanks, the stranger replied.

Really?

You heard the man, Hank taunted. Now get a move on.

If you don’t mind, the stranger added, gesturing his desire to go.

"No, I don’t mind…hardly," Curtis mumbled. He followed his young charge away from the beer, steaming at the sight of Hank Wilson delighting in a brimming tankard.

The newspaperman and the cowboy didn’t have far to go before they came upon Henry and Jane sitting at a table.

Mr. Webber, Jane greeted him. I trust you’re having a good time?

Couldn’t be better, Janey he confessed. Nothing like a good barbecue and some beer to put a man in a good mood. But there is someone with me who’d like to talk with Henry.

Henry stood as the young man stepped around Curtis.

Henry Kohl? he began.

Yes, Henry said, shaking hands with the young stranger. What can I do for you?

My name is Ben Kohl, the young man replied.

Are you a relative of Henry’s? Jane asked.

That’s what I came to find out, Ben said. You see, I’m looking for my mother and I was told I might find her here with you.

A crushing sense of dread pressed in on Henry and Jane.

Who is your mother, son? Curtis asked.

Olivia Kohl, Ben replied.

Henry closed his eyes at the pronouncement of his sister’s name. That isn’t possible, Henry replied. My sister has no children.

But she did once. Didn’t she? Ben replied.

No…How could she? I mean she… No.

Henry. Jane reached out to put a comforting hand on his arm. He turned toward her to shield himself from the sting of the young man’s presence. For a moment, they shared a look of consternation until Jane gave her attention to the stranger.

What lead you to believe Olivia is your mother? she asked.

I knew her aunt, Ann Kohl. I spoke with her just before she died…she said—

My aunt knew you? Henry interjected.

Ben nodded.

I’m sorry, son. I find that hard to believe. My aunt could be…well, for lack of a better word, a snob.

And I’m not exactly the sort of person she would associate with? Ben finished.

Frankly, yes. So tell me, how is it possible you two even met?

"I was acquainted with her as a boy. But it was only recently that I found out why she would come to see me…guilt."

What could my aunt possibly feel guilty about in regards to you? Henry demanded.

She took me from my mother and put me up for adoption without ever intending to tell anyone about my true identity.

Henry scowled.

She told you this? Jane said.

Not just that way, Ben replied. But, yes. She did.

Impossible, Henry pronounced. My aunt died more than three months ago.

I know, Ben agreed. I was there.

Old gal made a deathbed confession, eh? Curtis Webber interjected.

All of them glared at Mr. Webber briefly before Ben continued.

She wrote to me first, asking me to come see her. Promised I wouldn’t be sorry if I came…you know, made it sound like she was going to give me something. So, I figured I might as well go along and find out what the old… Ben cleared his throat. What the lady wanted.

I suppose you assumed she was going to give you money? Henry said.

It did cross my mind, Ben confessed. What’s the harm in that?

But it wasn’t money she had for you? Jane guessed.

Ben shook his head. Just a fist full of papers and an endless stream of apologies.

Papers? What sort of papers? Henry demanded.

Letters mostly, Ben replied. Some were responses from orphanages and foster homes she’d written to trying to find a place for me as a baby. But the most important one was a letter addressed to Olivia Kohl. She made me promise to bring it to her personally after she confessed what she had done.

That makes no sense, Henry fumed. If my aunt had time to go sending for you, why didn’t she just send for Olivia and explain everything to her herself? Why waste time with letters charged to the care of a stranger?

I can’t answer for her. All I know is I’ve told you the truth.

"You offer very little proof to back up your truth."

You don’t believe I’m your nephew?

No, Henry said bluntly. Olivia’s little boy died at birth and you can’t expect me to believe I’m gullible enough to think any different now.

I know it all sounds impossible. Ridiculous even. But at least try to keep an open mind. Read what she has to say for yourself…Here….

Ben took the letter from his vest pocket and handed it to Henry. He easily recognized his aunt’s handwriting.

The seal on it is broken, Henry noted. You’ve read it?

Ben shrugged. What else could I do?

Henry scowled as he turned his attention back to the letter. His face darkened with every line he read. When he finished, he crumpled the letter in his hand.

This still doesn’t prove you are who you say you are, Henry told Ben.

I didn’t intend to stir up trouble, but this whole thing is just as disturbing to me as it must be for you.

I doubt that.

I don’t expect anything from you, Ben asserted. All I want are some answers.

Henry took a step closer to Ben. I can’t give them to you. He pressed the letter back into Ben’s hand. I suggest you move on and stop wasting everyone’s time. Henry stalked away, even though Jane tried to call him back.

You’ll have to forgive him, Jane said to Ben once Henry was gone. He and his sister are very close and I’m afraid you’ve reminded him of events in their past which were terribly painful.

I understand. But it’s important to me that I learn the truth.

Jane was moved by Ben’s sincerity. But her own discoveries about her uncle over the past few weeks had taught her that sometimes knowing the truth isn’t as much of a relief as one might expect.

Be careful what you wish for, Jane said. Sometimes ignorance really is bliss.

Maybe. But this is too important to me not to risk it.

Jane bobbed her head. I understand.

Then do you think you could take me to see my mother?

I could, Jane replied slowly. But…I think it would be better if Henry took you.

That doesn’t seem likely, ma’am.

Give him some time. He just needs to think.

Are you sure it will do any good?

Oh, yes…he’ll come around.

Well… while we’re waiting, would you tell me what she’s like? My mother….

Jane smiled. "Olivia isn’t like anyone, she began. She is the most generous, loving and forgiving woman I’ve ever known."

That’s good to hear.

I’d like to hear your whole story, young fella, Curtis interrupted.

Mr. Webber, Jane admonished I hope you aren’t getting the notion to write anything about this in your paper.

Why…I….

Jane crossed her arms and frowned.

Janey. You can be so hard-hearted. Why this is news if I ever smelled it!

This is a very private and personal matter concerning the Kohls and until they can sort things out among themselves, I think it ought to remain that way. Don’t you?

But—

And considering the damage your paper already did to their reputation this summer, I think you owe it to them to forget you ever heard a word about this.

Seems to me you’re forgetting you had a part in penning the letter that started the whole mess.

A letter which was never about Henry nor intended for publication…as you well know.

Aw, Janey.

Your word, Mr. Webber. You won’t say or write anything about Olivia or Ben or Henry.

You see how formidable she is? he said to Ben. She’ll bring Henry around to your way of thinking in no time. And when she does—

Your word! Jane repeated.

Curt held up his hand as a sign of surrender. Alright! I give you my word as a gentleman and a scholar to keep mum about the Kohls.

Thank you. Now, Ben, based on that false promise, I think we’d better continue our conversation elsewhere.

She took Ben by the arm and led him away, while Mr. Webber grumbled under his breath about the treachery of females.

Chapter Two

Henry had hoped distancing himself from such unwelcome news would calm his temper. Unfortunately, the solitude served only to increase his ire as well as his pace. He had quickly walked past the edge of town and headed down the main road, still brooding over his encounter with the young cowboy. Why was God trying him so sorely? Wasn’t it enough to have finally resolved his feud with Michael Randolph? Must he really make peace with Michael’s son too?

Twenty years ago, Henry and Olivia Kohl had been forced to abandon their homestead and move east, when Michael Randolph robbed their father of all the family’s savings and disappeared just one month after marrying Olivia. No sooner had he gone, than Olivia realized she was going to have a child. To be betrayed by her husband would have been tragedy enough for any sixteen-year-old. But Olivia also had to bear the stigma of her pregnancy alone and in a strange city. Her ordeal ended, after a long and painful delivery, with the infant’s sudden death. That final loss, compounded by all the others, had sent her into a decline from which she had only recently begun to emerge.

Henry had barely been more than a boy himself at the time of their tragedy, but that didn’t diminish his capacity to hate. For more than ten years, he had been bent on avenging his family until the poison of his anger almost cost him his own life. The near miss had brought him to his senses. Ultimately, out of devotion to his sister, he agreed to abandon his spite and turned his life over to the church.

Copper Creek was his first pastoral assignment and, when he arrived, he believed he had finally come to a place where Olivia and he could have some peace. However, that hope was dashed the instant he discovered Michael Randolph was among the town’s leading citizens.