Corruption at Turner Creek: The Turner Creek Series, #3

By Gary Harding

Corruption at Turner Creek reveals the struggle in the early life of Parson Bane Barlow. The past he had buried long ago comes back to haunt him through an un-expected twist. Will his integrity be enough to bury it again? Does character matter?

 

Bane gave up a life headed in the wrong direction to follow the call of God. Ride the trail with him as he carries a Bible in one saddlebag and a six-gun in the other while proclaiming the gospel message to a tough generation, filled with lawlessness and greed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WordSong Publishing
• Release date: Sep 18, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393859277

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

A fog brought a cold autumn morning to the Sierra. Parson Bane Barlow was on the roof of the new church building nailing the last couple of nails into a white wooden steeple. 

Snow could arrive just any day and Turner Creek was working on a friendly welcome. At this elevation, a storm often came without warning. When it did, all the mountain passes might be blocked for days. People were pack-ing in supplies and stacking extra firewood.

Most of the mines were working shorter shifts than usual, gearing up for the winter. The place was an anthill of busy activity. When the roads became snowed in, there would be no gold shipments and work would come to a stand still.

Bane was starting to feel that Turner Creek was his home. He had left Texas when the wealthy cattle rancher, Denny Turner, had asked him to find Chad and try to bring him the gospel. After a long train ride and an even longer stagecoach ride, Bane had arrived to find a bigger mess than he ever imagined. Chad was masquerading as the town doctor while secretly stealing his Uncle Denny’s gold and deceiving the entire town of Turner Creek.

Everything came to a tragic end when Bane uncovered the scheme and Denny Turner showed up and proved to be quicker on the draw. A fatal shoot out ended in Chad’s death.

Denny decided to stay in California and re-claim his possessions... including the town and his ranch. His promise to build a church house had been kept. The whole town had happily pitched in to help.

Bane had built a great relationship with the general store keeper and his daughter, Vivian. In fact, Vivian and Bane had become a serious couple. She had caught his eye when he first met her at the cafe. Vivian ran the place and it was no secret that she cooked up the best grub within a hundred miles.  But it wasn’t the food that had captured Bane’s heart.

Denny Turner owned the deed on the three hundred acre Duncan Ranch. Chad and his cronies murdered the Duncans and the property went back to Denny. It was a nice spread and it was vacant. So, later, when Bane and Vivian announced their engagement, Denny gave them the entire place as an early wedding gift.

Vivian was planning a Christmas wedding and Bane was just fine with that. Here it was a few days before Thanksgiving and things were all falling into place. Bane had asked her to marry him near a clear mountain stream over a wicker picnic basket.

When Denny laid out plans, the building for the church was framed in before summer had scarcely ended. It was more like a barn raising than building a church. Everybody pitched in with tools and wagons and lots of manual labor. The white wooden plank structure sported a stained glass window on each side.  The windows had been brought in from San Francisco. A double door entry opened to reveal the oak pews and a pulpit made of hickory. All was ready for the first service. Bane had announced Thanksgiving Sunday to be a meeting to give thanks to God for all of His blessings.

Although there were still folks around who had no place for God or religion, most were anxious for the new church doors to open. Even most of the miners were interested. The white frame building stood like a monument at the edge of town.

It was a time when people were as tough as the country and as strong as their faith in God.  Though the gold rush hey day was long gone, men were still arriving from all over the world seeking a fortune. Greed for gold had stolen the joy from many. But greater value could be found in a heart of gold. That was the message Bane preached and that was still what he believed.

Men look on the outward appearance, but God looks on the heart. Gold in the bank could be stolen. Gold in the heart could not.

Vivian’s dad, Ed Wilmont, had done well with the general store. It always had a booming business and was well stocked. Ed and Bane had grown close. There was a bond that began from the first night Bane rode into Turner Creek. Ed was a man of character and highly respected by all. 

I’m gonna be his son-in-law, Bane said softly and smiled to himself. Who would have thought it?

The day he had ridden into Turner Creek, getting married was the last thing on his mind. But that was before he met Vivian. There was no doubt they were meant to be. He had told her so. She felt the same. 

Her suggestion was to wait until the new church building was completed.  He had no dis-agreement with that. Since the day when they had sat by the stream and enjoyed the picnic, she had been making a fuss over the wedding plans. It seemed like the whole town was excited about it, especially all the ladies. They spent every idle minute talking to Vivian about it.  He supposed that was a good thing, although it didn’t always make sense to him.

The biggest surprise in recent weeks was that Bane’s long time friend, Tosh Todd, had resigned his job as sheriff in Carson City and moved to Turner Creek. His wife had been happy about the whole idea. He had promptly been elected sheriff and Denny Turner made sure that Tosh was treated fairly.

There had been no lawman in town. Trying to settle things had often turned into tough spots and there had been no legal way to enforce law. Tosh now had an office and a real jail. Turner Creek was growing up. It had started as just a mining camp. Now it was a respected town in the mountains. Even though he wouldn’t admit it, Bane had much to do with that. The gold mines still made the wheels turn. But all the related businesses were vital. The miners had to eat and buy supplies. The cattle business at the Turner Ranch made that possible. From the bank to the cafe, money was flowing and the place was seething with success.

Bane had made it his responsibility to bring the Gospel to all. Not everyone would receive it, but they all had the right to hear it.

"How shall they hear without a preacher..." Bane quoted the scripture out loud.

He finished the last nail in the steeple and made a mental note to get some more white paint and touch them all up. It was doubtful the nails would be seen from the ground, but he would feel better if they were painted over any way. He was glad he had his jacket on. The wool lining felt good and it was going to come in handy through the winter.

He adjusted his black Stetson and slowly stepped one foot out on the ladder. His boots were slippery on the cedar shingles.  Being very careful not to drop the hammer, he slipped it into his belt. Then he eased the other foot out on a lower rung of the ladder, checked his balance and lowered both feet so that he could place both hands on the edges.

Stopping to admire the steeple, he smiled to himself. What a great thing. Even though his faith was strong, he had doubted that the church would ever be built. Here it was... finished and ready for worship.

Lord, I reckon this was something you had in mind all along, Bane said. Well, all the credit goes to you. You have opened up the way where there was no way. Somehow, I pray this can all bring glory to your name. And I sure do give you thanks for it. I surely do!

Suddenly, a gust of wind blew hard and the ladder shook. He was reminded he needed to get off the ladder safely. He had never cottoned to heights of any kind, not even a little bit. His reasoning was that God gave man two legs to walk on the ground and to ride a horse... not necessarily in that order. Because of the cold morning, the street was quiet. There was only one wagon down at the general store loading supplies. A bird had been singing in a large pine tree near the church.

Bane took a deep breath and let it out. The wedding was just a few days away. He was excited about life more than he had ever been in all his days. Next week was Thanksgiving and there was a heap of things to be thankful about.

When the bird stopped singing, it caught his attention. He turned his head to step down from the ladder when he heard a horse blow.

From the corner of his eye, he caught the glimpse of a big gray gelding. Not being able to completely turn around, he strained his neck to get a better look. A large man sat on the horse slouched down in the saddle. Bane had not heard him ride up. How long had he been watching? The banging of the hammer must have drowned out his horse’s hooves.

His hat was dingy. He wore a brown leather vest and a blue plaid shirt. His boots looked new and he wore them outside of his pants. Shiny spurs hung from his heels and looked as though they had been useful. The horse had lowered his head and appeared to be dozing. Sporting three black socks and a black tail, the animal was a stand out. The man was wearing two guns, tied down low on each leg. His gun belt was full of cartridges. There was a rifle hanging in a scabbard.

Before Bane could take another step down the ladder, the man spoke in an icy tone that sent chills up the parson’s spine.

Well, if it ain’t Bane Barlow!

Bane squinted his eyes to get a better look. His mind was racing. He had that old feeling. Something wasn’t right. He felt it. He knew it. The man walked his horse a little closer to the ladder.  He spoke again in the same cold tone.

Please, tell me you remember me, Bane.

Can’t say that I do, Bane said slowly.

Well, that’s too bad, the man continued. Heard you were a preachin’ man now. Heard you were gettin’ married too. Is that so?

Both are true. Bane kept his voice even. He was unarmed and was not happy about it.  His habit was not to wear a gun and it had been months since he had put one on. Although he was skilled with both of his Army Colts, he usually kept them in his saddlebags.

I rode a long way to find you, Bane. The man spoke again.

Do I know you? Bane asked.

I’m Tim Brasher.

CHAPTER 2

The ladder moved again but not from the wind. A shiver of fear shook Bane to his soul. He closed his eyes and imagined that this moment wasn’t happening.

You remember me now, don’t ya Bane? the big man bellowed.

There were no other horses on the street. In fact Bane saw nobody outside at all. The only thing happening was the loading of the wagon down at the store. That was to the other end of the street and not within earshot. Bane froze his muscles and gripped the ladder even tighter.

I remember you, Bane, the big man said.  I’ve never forgotten you. In fact, I’ve thought about you a whole lot.

Bane started to step down to the next rung of the ladder.

Just stay right there where you are, Bane! Tim’s voice was louder now, more repugnant.  "Day after day, I sat in that cell and thought about you. I relived the whole thing again and again. Clear as a picture. I saw it over and over. 

You holdin’ our horses while we robbed the express office. He nudged his horse even closer to the ladder. Then, I thought about you settin’ up there on the witness stand testifyin’ against the lot of us. I heard it over and over again in my mind."   

I was only sixteen! Bane protested.

Well, you’re not sixteen now, are you?

Bane did not reply. Could be the big man would talk long enough until somebody would show up.

So what’s your point, Tim? Bane asked.

My point is... I waited a long time to get out of prison. And I’ve spent a long time tryin’ to find you.  Now, here I am!  Trust me, preacher man, it’s gonna be worth it!  Ten years in the pokie, and three years ridin’ west to find your carcass! And here you are up on the roof of a church house!  I do declare!  I never did think it would be this easy!

He inched the gray horse a bit closer and laughed.  There was bitterness and hatred in his voice.

I’m unarmed, Bane said.

That’s no never mind to me, preacher!

If you shoot me, you’ll hang, Bane went on. They’ll hunt you down... your life will be over. You can’t break the law and get by. 

And who are you to talk about the law? I went to jail and you went free! You testified against me and I went to prison!  You were part of the gang, too!  Look how that worked out!

Bane still had both hands on the ladder. It was too quiet. No one was coming to help. He heard no horses in the street. Even the bird remained quiet. Could he grab the hammer in time? Was he too far away to use it effectively? The closer Tim moved to the ladder, the better chance Bane would have of swinging it as a weapon.

So you came here just for that? Bane asked. Look, Tim, we can work this out. We can talk it out.

Oh, you can be sure we are gonna work it out!  You’ll find out soon enough... you can bet on that!

Without warning, he spurred his mount and the gray horse lunged forward right into the ladder. Bane was helpless. He heard the wood crack as it fell. Tim let out a yell as he stood in the stirrups and urged the gelding into a gallop!  In a split second, Bane went crashing to the ground as the ladder broke into pieces. He lay in the dirt, all the breath knocked out of him, gasping for air. In the distance, he could hear the pounding hooves leaving town.

He lay still, trying to evaluate his injuries. Could he move his legs? It felt like his right arm was broken. The hammer was still in his belt and had landed directly on his wrist and forearm, smashing into the ground. He gasped again and did not move. Wiggling his fingers, he felt relief.

Suddenly, the bird started singing again. That gave him hope. He wanted to pray, but he couldn’t find his voice. There are times when a man has to have his praying done ahead. This was one of those times.

He had not blacked out. As the bird began the second chorus, he pushed himself up into a sitting position. Things were spinning a bit in his head. He heard boots running on the ground.

Bane!

It was Ed Wilmont.

Bane, what happened?

I fell, Bane said flatly.

Well, I can see that. Did the ladder just break?

Bane shook his head.  It broke with a little help from a horse!

A runaway horse? Ed questioned.

It’s a real long story, Bane sighed with a grimace.

You think you can stand up?

I can try.

Ed took hold of Bane’s good left arm and started lifting him up to his feet. Feeling was coming back to Bane’s legs. Flexing his arms, he shook out his hands. All of his fingers were working.  Standing up straight, he pulled up his right shirtsleeve and was glad to see the skin was not broken. The bone was hurting and he knew there would soon be a large bruise, but that was nothing to worry about. Ed spoke up.

I looked down here earlier and saw you on the roof, but I didn’t see a horse.

A man I knew years ago. He was sitting over by the trees. Just when I was coming down the ladder, he came over to say howdy, Bane said.

Looks like more than ‘howdy’ to me, Ed responded.

I believe it was.

Ed reached down and picked up Bane’s black Stetson and