Bonds of Betrayal

By Elizabeth A. Miller

Bonds of Betrayal is the continuation of the exciting prequel to the Copper Creek Series begun in The Mysterious Miner’s Legacy. In this second book of the Copper Creek Tales, romance is in the air as Amy Kent expects a long-awaited visit from Doctor Luke Owens, the man who won her heart when he helped her best the machinations of an ex-suitor who betrayed her long ago. But when Luke is summoned to the aid of his estranged brother, Mark, Amy soon learns her old feud with George Mason is far from over.
Following Luke to Sulfur Springs, Amy finds herself ensnared by another of Mason’s greedy schemes. Unless she can stop his insidious plot for revenge, Luke and his brother will hang for crimes they didn’t commit and all Amy’s hopes for the future will be dashed by the bitter bonds of her past.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elizabeth A. Miller
• Release date: Sep 14, 2019
• ISBN: 9781370650132

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

Bonds of Betrayal

Book Two of the Copper Creek Tales

Elizabeth A. Miller

Innovative Writing Works

St. Louis, Missouri

Smashwords Edition

Copyright ©2019 Elizabeth A. Miller.

All Rights Reserved.

Cover Photo: Shutterstock.com /Eky Studio 103663373

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.

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.

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter One - A Long-Awaited Reunion

Chapter Two - Mark’s Predicament

Chapter Three - A Risky Plan

Chapter Four - Desperate Measures

Chapter Five - Calaboose Nightmare

Chapter Six - Resurrection of a Ghost

Chapter Seven - Dark Discoveries

Chapter Eight - Stranger in the Kitchen

Chapter Nine - Friendly Conversation

Chapter Ten - Revelations

Chapter Eleven - Proof Positive

Chapter Twelve - Ultimatum

Chapter Thirteen - Truth and Lies

Chapter Fourteen - Explosion and Escape

Chapter Fifteen - Shoot-out with the Sheriff

Chapter Sixteen - Confessions

Chapter Seventeen - Disillusioned at Dusk

Chapter Eighteen - Ledger and the Loss

Chapter Nineteen - Mason’s Man

Chapter Twenty - Amy’s Angst

Chapter Twenty-One - George’s Triumph

Chapter Twenty-Two - Subterfuge for Survival

Chapter Twenty-Three - Her Happiness Complete

Chapter Twenty-Four - Finding Common Ground

Chapter Twenty-Five - Final Flames

Chapter Twenty-Six - Judgment Day

Epilogue

Author Bio

More Books

Prologue

MISSOURI

Summer 1873

Smoke and noise spilled out onto Sulfur Spring’s main street from the Golden Goose Saloon. It was three minutes past midnight and hell was open for business.

Inside the saloon, the tarnished, yellow light from an imported chandelier illuminated the hard faces of bewhiskered men congregated around a long, polished bar. Women, with painted faces and spangles twinkling on their low-cut gowns, circulated among the many tables where drunks and gamblers vied to better their fortunes.

In the far corner, a roulette wheel clicked madly, spinning round and round with tantalizing effect. On the opposite side of the room, a player-piano was plinking out the first tinny strains of Buffalo Gal as Dan Jefferson bit down hard on the end of his cigar and scowled.

Three kings? he complained, glowering at the cards spread before him.

Three, Mark Owens confirmed with a self-satisfied smirk. Which beats your three ladies.

Oblivious to the rage upon his opponent’s face, Owens reached out with his left hand to gather up the fat pot piled in the center of the table and found his arm stayed by a crushing grip.

You mocking me, boy? Jefferson challenged, tightening his hold on Owens’ wrist.

Should I? he answered with defiance.

You should know better than to sass your betters, boy.

"When I meet up with somebody better, I’ll remember that."

Enraged, Jefferson’s dark eyes flashed with murderous intent. You stinkin’ pig! he swore, twisting Mark’s wrist.

Struggling to free himself, Mark overturned the table between them and pushed Jefferson away. The cacophony of scattering poker chips and tumbling furniture, to say nothing of Dan Jefferson’s violent oaths as he fell backwards, drew the attention of everyone inside the saloon. The roulette wheel stopped and the player-piano plunked the last note of its tired song. An ominous silence ensued.

You’re going to pay for that, Jefferson swore, getting up.

Mark swallowed with difficulty. All eyes were fixed on him.

You’re drunk, Jefferson! he asserted, watching the hulking shape of a man twice his size bear down on him.

And you’re a dead man, Jefferson replied, drawing his gun.

A hint of panic blanched Mark’s young face.

Nobody disrespects Dan Jefferson. No one, he asserted, aiming his .45 at Mark’s chest.

Easy, Dan, a grey-headed man standing at Jefferson’s elbow urged, He’s just a kid.

He’s a damn cheat, Gus!

I’m no cheat, Mark insisted. You’re just a sore loser. But then I should have figured as much, after the way you murdered Molly Weaver when she wouldn’t have you.

Jefferson’s eyes bulged with indignation.

What do you think you’re doing, kid? Gus uttered in a panic, moving to stand between Mark and Dan. You want to get yourself killed?

I’m not afraid.

Get out of here, Gus shouted, struggling to hold Dan back.

I’m no coward.

Kid!

Let go of me, Jefferson shouted, pushing his friend aside. He can’t talk that way about Molly and me. I’ll teach him….

BANG!

The sound of a gunshot reverberated against the debauched walls of the saloon. A collective gasp followed in its wake as everyone saw Dan Jefferson drop and fall dead to the floor.

Gus looked up from his friend’s body for an explanation and found it in the thin wisp of smoke curling from the derringer still clutched in Mark Owens’ trembling hand.

Chapter One

A Long-Awaited Reunion

Amy Kent let out a yelp. Tired of fumbling with her cameo, she dropped the dainty brooch on the dresser and noticed blood oozing from a prick on her left index finger. Staunching the bleeding with her lips, she glanced up at her reflection in the mirror and let out a frustrated sigh. Never the most ravishing of women, Amy had come to accept her plain appearance, after living with it for some forty years. Her soft grey eyes and short brown hair weren’t very glamorous. But the delicate shape of her nose was good and her complexion was clear, though a trifle dark from too many hours working under the hot sun. Still, she’d hoped a little primping might improve things. She so wanted to look her very best tonight. Luke was finally coming.

Amy hadn’t seen Doctor Luke Owens since she’d left her hometown of Copper Creek more than two months ago. Their association had begun following her failed attempt to exact revenge for a long-standing injustice. Twenty years ago, George Mason had pretended to love her and then used her as a pawn to blackmail her father into signing over his secret copper mine. But when his greedy plans were exposed, Amy and her father were left no choice but to bury their mine and flee Copper Creek. Years of struggle and hardship followed until Amy’s father died a bitter, shameful death far from home.

After her father’s passing, Amy decided to return to Copper Creek alone. Disguised as a man, she sought out Mason for the singular purpose of murdering him. But his absence from town delayed her long enough to encounter a kindly country doctor who was neither fooled by her masculine appearance nor convinced by her violent oaths. In that calm, endearing manner of his, Luke inveigled himself into her confidence. With infuriating logic and infinite patience, he unraveled her arguments, soothed her hate and awakened a spark of hope in Amy she believed had long been extinguished.

He even risked his own life to help her prevent George Mason from seizing the rights to her father’s lost mine. Such friendship was rare in Amy’s life and though she had not wanted to admit it a first, his reason for helping her was the same reason she permitted him to...love.

Yet despite her feelings or Luke’s, Amy knew she’d never find peace in Copper Creek with so many unhappy associations. So, she resolved to move to the nearby town of Weaver Junction to start a new life and reluctantly parted from the good doctor on the strength of his promise to visit. Yet, somehow Amy couldn’t believe he really would. Though he had declared his sincere affections for her, it still seemed improbable to Amy, even impossible, that she could stir any romantic feelings in such an extraordinary man.

Perhaps her skepticism was fueled by the fact their entire relationship had been one of chance and circumstance, consisting of only a few days of shared misadventure. Or it might be because the head injury he received during their struggle with Mason made her worry he’d been out of his senses when he declared himself. Most likely, it was her perpetual experience as an outsider which kept her from accepting anyone could consider her loveable.

Disturbed by her reflections, Amy took a deep breath to calm her nerves. Then stroking back a loose strand of hair from her temple, she abandoned her mirror and went in search of the only other man in her life, Earl Garrety.

Her father’s oldest friend, Earl Garrety, had been the Kent’s salvation on more than one occasion. A mountain man of many skills, with a penchant for wandering and a knack for survival, he had lost much but gained more through his lifelong association with Daniel Kent and his daughter, Amy.

Alone in the world now, both Amy and Earl had turned to each other in their darkest hour and forged a new family, pooling their limited resources to buy a home and a farm in Weaver Junction. After two months hard work, their investment was starting to show signs of new life and not just in the fields.

The sound of Amy’s footsteps down the hall alerted Earl to her impending arrival. With a gulp, he lowered his small flask and dabbed at the whiskey still on his lips, tucking his secret cache out of sight just as Amy appeared in the parlor.

Amy! he exclaimed too enthusiastically.

She narrowed her eyes with suspicion.

You look right pretty, gal!

Amy crossed her arms. What are you up to?

Up to? Earl shrugged innocently.

I thought you said you were going to tidy up in here for me.

And so I did.

You call this neat? Amy demanded, pointing at a flattened cushion lying askew on the sofa.

Oh, quit your fussin’, Earl insisted, watching Amy plump the offending pillow. Luke ain’t comin’ to look at the furniture.

Even so, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to make a good impression, Amy replied.

You already done that. Else why would he be riding twelve miles in this heat?

I was wondering that myself.

You worryin’? Earl asked with a frown.

I can’t help it, Amy admitted. Two months is a long time. What if Luke’s changed his mind about me? What if he never really—

Damn it, Amy! Earl interjected. That man loves you and he ain’t the sort to say so lightly."

"He never actually said it," Amy argued.

I know Luke, same as I know you, and I tell ya, there never was two people that made a better fit! Earl’s eyes sparkled with the vehemence of his assertion. An’ you got no cause to doubt it.

And what makes you such an authority?

Just trust me. I may not look it now, but in my younger days I did my share of sparkin’. I know what a fella’s feelin’ when he looks at a gal the way Luke looks at you, ‘cause I did the same.

Earl, you never mentioned a sweetheart before.

The old man shrugged. Never any need before.

Who was she? Amy asked.

A nostalgic look settled on Earl’s features as he was drawn away to some sweet, private memory. Then he sighed and fixed Amy with a serious gaze. It don’t matter now. She’s gone. What counts is you and Luke.

Amy blushed, lending a becoming glow to her already sun-kissed complexion.

You want Luke to love you, don’t you? Earl persisted.

Amy hesitated briefly before she met Earl’s gaze and nodded.

I do, she admitted. Because I love him.

I’m glad to hear you admit it, Earl replied.

Why?

Because admitting it means you’re ready to be happy. And nobody deserves happiness more than you, Amy.

Amy felt tears sting her eyes.

And don’t think I’m sayin’ that just because ya been so good to me, Earl added. Takin’ care of a feeble-minded old bag-of-bones ain’t no easy job to be sure. But what I mean is it’s time you had your chance to feel all the things and do all the things you never got to when you was a sprout. What with your ma dying so early, then George Mason deceivin’ you the way he did, cheatin’ you out of your home, and then your pa....

Earl’s voice cracked with regret at the recollection of his old friend. Amy reached out to cover Earl’s hand with her own.

Now look what ya made me do, Earl sniffed.

Amy searched in the pocket of her dress for a handkerchief and handed it to Earl.

He waved it away. Naw. I’m jake. Just...take my word for it, nobody deserves happiness more than you and you’ll have it.

He offered a weak smile and Amy found she was forced to dab at her own eyes, ignoring the pride beaming from Earl’s face.

Now, I’m sure I’ll look a sight, Amy bemoaned.

Don’t fret about a few tears, he teased, reaching out to cradle her face. They’ll only make those lovely grey eyes of yours sparkle even more becomingly.

Oh, Earl. Don’t make fun of me. I know I’ve never been beautiful. But I’d hoped to avoid greeting Luke with red blotches on my face.

Earl frowned and tugged on the end of his beard.

Over here, he ordered, pulling Amy to the window.

What are you doing? she demanded as he assessed her appearance in the dwindling sunlight.

Not beautiful? He shook his snowy-white head. Amy, you’re the sweetest lookin’ gal I ever saw and with that sumptuous supper you’re cookin’ in there, Luke won’t be able to resist you.

Amy started to get flustered again, but Earl took hold of her hands and leaned in to plant a kiss on her cheek.

And don’t you worry none about me. I’ll be sure to git long before Luke gets here.

There’s no need, Amy said, panicked at the idea of being alone with Luke.

Earl scowled disapprovingly.

I’m sure Luke would enjoy your company just as—

"Amy, I’m sure Luke won’t thank me for hornin’ in on his first chance to be alone with you in months," Earl interrupted.

But—

Earl raised his hand to stay her objection.

You have a good time tonight. And I’ll do likewise.

Likewise? Earl, what are you planning?

Never you mind.

Earl, Amy asserted with her hands on her hips.

Roger Brewster invited me over.

To guzzle moonshine in that shed of his, Amy guessed, sneering with disapproval at the thought of their nearest neighbor.

"A few drops of...hospitality are hardly cause for a snit."

But you know you aren’t supposed to drink! After your accident, Dr. Gould told you what would happen if—

Amy, I’m eighty-two years old. I don’t give a hoot for what Dr. Gould says. Or any other doc for that matter. Nobody’s gonna live forever and what’s the point in hanging around if ya aren’t havin’ no fun?

I don’t like this, Amy replied, shaking her head. You’ll only get into trouble.

At my age, getting into trouble is the only way I can be sure I’m still alive.

Really!

You might try getting into a little trouble yourself tonight, he added suggestively.

What! Amy gasped.

See you in the mornin’, Earl finished with a saucy wink as he headed out the door.

*****

The mantle clock struck five and its fading chimes were followed at once by a knock at the door. A rush of excitement shot through Amy and she stood back from the savory soup pot bubbling on the stove.

Luke, she whispered.

A second knock echoed from the front of the house. Amy set down her wooden spoon and fought to undo the knots in her apron as she rushed to the door. A few feet from the kitchen, she tossed it on the back of a chair, then stopped in the hall to look in the mirror and make certain her shining russet locks were still neatly combed. Satisfied with her appearance, she tugged at the front of her new blue dress to smooth the lace trim and turned to open the door.

As it swung back, Amy beheld a distinguished-looking man in his mid-forties, with a clean-shaven, kindly face and dusty black hair. He was dressed in a smart, dark blue suit that bespoke an eagerness to make a good impression. But it was his warm, brown eyes, alight with tenderness at the sight of her that most captured her attention.

Luke, Amy said brightly.

He smiled warmly and held out a bouquet of daisies.

Hello, Amy, he replied. I hope I’m not late.

Her breath caught in her throat. No, she got out, taking the daises reverently. Not at all.

Luke smiled.

Come in, Amy urged, stepping back to let him pass.

The place looks wonderful, Luke remarked, striding into Amy’s front room. His eyes surveyed the cozy fireplace, the hand-hewn furniture, and the neatly appointed table for two. And you…, he added turning to face her again.

Yes? she answered, terrified he would see how her cheeks were burning.

Luke shook his head and stared at her.

What is it? Amy panicked, tugging on her self-made skirt.

I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you wearing a dress before, Luke explained.

Amy cast her eyes to the floor in embarrassment, recalling the masculine disguise she’d been wearing when they first met.

And your hair’s grown some.

Yes, Amy uttered, mindlessly reaching up to tug on the ends of her shorn tresses. Some. Though I’m not sure I want to let it get too long again. I kind of like it this way.

She blushed, afraid it was unfeminine to admit she preferred shorter hair, until Luke smiled and said, So do I. It frames your face most becomingly.

Amy’s eyes sparkled with pleasure.

Luke took Amy’s left hand and held it tight. In fact, I’m in awe, he finished. I’ve never seen you look lovelier.

She dared to meet his gaze and smiled in spite of herself.

You don’t have to say that, she replied.

Why not? It’s true.

Amy wanted to protest, but she remembered Earl’s advice and bit her tongue.

Thank you, she offered instead. Won’t you sit down?

Anywhere in particular? Luke teased, still holding her hand.

Wherever you like, Amy replied.

Luke squeezed her hand and started for the sofa opposite the fireplace, while Amy pulled away to fetch a vase from the kitchen for the daisies.

She returned swiftly and set them in the center of the table behind him. It was thoughtful of you to bring flowers, she said, still admiring the bouquet. I’ve always liked daises.

So have I, Luke said, watching Amy cross the floor to sit beside him. But I hope you won’t mind if I say I like you more.

Than daisies?

Than anything, Luke asserted.

Amy felt another surge of heat rise to her face and she hesitated to take a seat.

Luke reached up to take her arm and drew her down on the cushion beside him.

It’s so good to see you again, Amy, he went on. I’ve missed you.

Amy’s eyes darted to his face and her gaze softened. I’ve felt the same, she admitted. There hasn’t been a minute since I left Copper Creek when I didn’t think about you.

Really?

Amy nodded.

Then my letters—

I’ve treasured every one, she interjected. I’ve read and reread them until I knew them all by heart.

You kept them?

Of course. They were from you.

Luke smiled. Your letters were a comfort to me too. I don’t think it would be an exaggeration to say they did my recovery far more good than all of Ray’s pills.

Amy attempted to control the wellspring of pleasure bubbling up inside of her. Then the injury to your head is—

Completely healed, Luke supplied. No more signs of bruising or concussion. It’s as if George Mason never struck me.

I’m relieved. I still can’t help feeling it was all my fault.

It wasn’t. I’m the one who provoked Mason’s attack.

Only because he was too small-minded to admit you spoke the truth, she argued.

Granted. Even so, I shouldn’t have been quite so outspoken with both our lives in jeopardy.

True. But then, you wouldn’t be you.

Amy, are you teasing me?

Not funny?

Let’s just say it was delightfully unexpected.

Oh. I’m sorry if—

No, Amy, he interrupted, "Don’t be sorry...."

He paused and began to lean in. Amy felt her breath catch in her throat. Luke raised his hand and gently began to trace the line of her cheek with his fingers.

The scent of tobacco and bay rum that hung about Luke began flooding Amy’s senses and her heart started to pound. She knew what he wanted, what they both wanted. But instead of feeling the kind of fear that made her pull away the first time he drew her close, she ached with anticipation.

Amy closed her eyes, ready to surrender to Luke’s touch. She could feel his breath whisper against her lips when a fearsome banging at the front door shattered the spell and jolted them apart.

Perplexed by the persistent din, they both rose from the sofa and hurried to the door. A severe-looking, young man stood out on the porch. His face was streaked with dirt and sweat and he almost bowled Amy down when she opened the door to afford him entry.

Doc Owens here? the fellow demanded.

I’m Doctor Owens, Luke volunteered, stepping out from behind Amy. Who are you?

That don’t matter, Doc. You gotta come quick.

Doctor Owens isn’t going anywhere, Amy said hotly. He’s here in Weaver Junction for a rest and not to attend to another physician’s patients. I’m sure if you ride the rest of the way into town, Doctor Boyer will be able to help you.

Don’t be hasty, Amy. Luke interrupted. If there’s trouble, it’s my duty to help if I can. Now what is it, son?

There’s been a shooting in Sulfur Springs.

That’s over fourteen miles away, Amy exclaimed. Isn’t there a doctor there who can help you?

I was sent to fetch Doctor Owens, specific, and when I found him gone from Copper Creek, they told me as he come here.

Who told you to come for me? Luke asked.

The sheriff in Sulfur Springs. I’m his deputy.

I see. But why would the sheriff want to see me?

He don’t in particular, it’s his prisoner that do.

Prisoner?

A fella by the name of Mark Owens.

Luke’s face blanched.

He’s been arrested for the murder of Dan Jefferson, the deputy finished.

Murder? No. You must be mistaken....

Who is he Luke? Amy asked, feeling her own anxiety grow.

He let out a sigh and gently covered Amy’s fingers, which were clutching his arm.

Mark’s my brother, Luke replied.

Amy’s lips parted in surprise.

I’m sorry, but I have to go.

Of course, Amy rallied. She forced herself to smile. Don’t give it a second thought. Your brother needs you.

I’ll send word as soon as I can, Luke added.

Amy nodded, unwilling to let her disappointment show.

You got a horse, Doc? the deputy pressed.

Out at the hitching rail, Luke answered gesturing to the saddled bay standing silently at the bottom of the porch stairs.

Hope he’s got legs. It’s a long ride back to Sulfur Springs.

We’d better get started.

In perfect accord with the doctor’s assessment, the deputy tugged the brim of his sweat-stained hat as a gesture of farewell to Amy and marched back down the steps.

Luke appeared hesitant to go and Amy could feel him struggling with himself. She dared to raise her eyes to his face and a scowl greeted her gaze.

You comin’, Doc? the deputy shouted from his mount.

Right with you.

Unable to speak, Amy continued to stare at Luke who answered her with his own silent declarations until he uttered brusquely, Goodbye.

Goodbye, Amy echoed to Luke’s back.

Without a second glance, the doctor mounted and turned his horse’s head towards Sulfur Springs to follow after the deputy’s retreating pinto. Amy watched until they disappeared over the crest of the hill before she returned inside and sank down on the nearest chair. Bewildered, depressed and slightly insulted, she completely ignored the stench of burnt soup wafting out from her kitchen. After all, at a time like this who could think of food?

Chapter Two

Mark’s Predicament

What do you mean I can’t see him? Luke fumed. I’ve been riding all night to get here, Sheriff!

Sheriff Derek Odin sucked a crumb of cornbread out from his front teeth with the tip of his tongue and wiped his buttery fingers on the blue gingham napkin dangling from his collar.

My brother sent for me. Didn’t he? Luke pressed.

That he did, Sheriff Odin admitted. And you’ll see him, Doctor Owens, if you’ll just be patient.

"Patient! My