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    Room for the Dreamer
    Room for the Dreamer
    Room for the Dreamer
    Ebook140 pages2 hours

    Room for the Dreamer

    By Laurie Kiel

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    About this ebook

    "There is no room for the dreamer, not any more. Dreams are dangerous—and dreams can kill." Despite these words from his minister father, Nathan follows his dream of joining his uncle as a gold rush reporter in Deadwood, Dakota Territory. Nathan has barely arrived in Deadwood, when his uncle is murdered. With everyone including his new love Molly believing the murder a suicide and the uncle an opium ring leader, Nathan must somehow stay alive long enough to find the truth.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherLaurie Kiel
    Release dateFeb 28, 2013
    ISBN9781301623068
    Room for the Dreamer
    Author

    Laurie Kiel

    LAURIE KIEL is a writer and performer of original Biblical monologues which she has performed in churches, special events and small groups in the Midwest and Southwest. Born in Rapid City, SD to a Presbyterian minister and landscrape artist, she has a special love for the Black Hills of South Dakota and interest in its history; bringing about this series of westerns. For eight years, Laurie wrote a feature called "Biblical portraits" for a magazine produced by Casas church, a church of 10,000 members. She has a degree in Elementary Education and Masters in Adult Education. Besides this Western series, Laurie has written over 20 monologues.. and 35 Biblical portraits. In her spare time, Laurie likes to read, make handmade greeting cards and "pun"ish her friends and family with groaningly bad jokes. Laurie lives with her sister, Diane and two adorable shih tzus Smokey and Bandit in southern Arizona.

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      Book preview

      Room for the Dreamer - Laurie Kiel

      Chapter 1

      ______________

      Thrown by his horse, Nathan Mathes watched his only transportation gallop off into the distance. It was the scorching hour of noon and July of 1876 was the hottest in years.

      Nathan looked at his tattered map. One hundred miles to Deadwood—and now he was on foot.

      It had all seemed so simple back home in Cottonwood, Nebraska. He was tired of being a preacher’s son in a one-horse town. His father treated him like a child, despite the fact that Nathan was almost twenty-one. And his girlfriend, Cynthia Mehlhorn, threw him over for another man. There was only one thing to do—join his uncle out in the gold fields of Dakota Territory as a reporter.

      Nathan left home, with just a note to say good-bye. The train ride from Omaha, Nebraska to Sidney was no problem at all.

      But at Sidney, where he was to switch to a stagecoach, there was an obstacle—the Concord stagecoach. It was mounted on leather through braces.

      Yep, the grizzled driver informed Nathan, It swings in every direction possible and some you’d have thought impossible.

      It made Nathan stagesick just to look at it. It was then he made his decision. He was a man of action. He didn’t have to go in a stuffy old stagecoach. He would buy a horse and ride the two hundred miles to Deadwood, sending his suitcase on the stage.

      The plan had worked fine for one hundred miles. But then a rabbit spooked Nathan’s horse. It reared, throwing Nathan off and running away

      Well, Nathan couldn’t sit in the mud all day. There was no choice. He had to walk, so he might as well get started.

      Nathan trudged through the endless mud that covered the Dakota prairie. At least he was out of Nebraska and into Dakota. But his dazzling dreams of the Dakota gold territory left out this reality: as far as the eye could see was mud. It was sucking at his feet and legs and draining away his energy with every step. How could he ever walk a hundred miles in this mud?

      Nathan sank no his heels to catch his breath and rest his aching legs. He got out his map to Deadwood and looked at it again. He only wished that the map and compass didn’t turn out as useless as that blasted horse.

      With a sigh, Nathan stood and started walking again. What was to worry? He had a map and a compass. He was young and strong. How could he fail?

      As muddy mile followed monotonous muddy mile, Nathan began to stop counting his journey by the miles marked on the map. He concentrated instead on putting one foot in front of the other. But then, finally, he put his right foot forward--and fell flat.

      He lay there, too exhausted to move.

      God, he said in a voice hardly above a whisper, If you’re even up there...is this what you think of me? That I should die out here? I have no right to ask, but help me--help me please.

      Nathan gathered his strength to push out of the mud and saw something that made him blink in surprise. Right in the middle of this desolate, muddy landscape he saw three men riding up on horseback.

      Nathan greeted the three men who were rough, dirty and unshaven. He was hoping for a ride, and he saw these strangers had several extra horses.

      Howdy, he said.

      Howdy, they said, without warmth.

      You wouldn’t be headed for Deadwood, would you? he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

      Why not? whispered one of them to the leader, He looks harmless enough. And we’ve got a long ride ahead of us.

      Sure, we’re heading that way, the leader drawled, "And we could use some company. Go and hop onto one of extra horses. At this invitation, Nathan’s exhaustion vanished in a flood of elation. He almost didn’t need the stirrup to mount the pinto pony.

      Say, he commented, This horse looks like it’s really been galloping. You men leave somewhere in a big hurry?

      Just been giving the horses some exercise, snapped the leader, his moment of good humor gone, When I said we wanted company, I wasn’t inviting you to a tea party. Let’s GO!

      The horses weren’t able to travel much faster than Nathan had, but his exhausted muscles were grateful for the rest. A scant mile down the road, Nathan’s gratitude evaporated in an instant when they were surrounded by a hostile group of armed men.

      Who--who are you? Nathan asked. His new friends stayed silent. They knew all too well who the armed men were.

      We’re from Rapid City. And we don’t cotton to folks stealin’ our horses. We aim to show you just how much we hate it.

      Your timing was bad, boys, said another vigilante, If you’d stayed in the treeless prairie we wouldn’t have know what to do with you, but you’re almost out of the prairie. Look at what’s ahead.

      Nathan looked--and what he saw chilled his blood. There was a clump of trees, and one in particular grabbed his attention. It had a long branch sticking out that looked tailor made for the vigilantes’ deadly purpose. The remains of a rope still tied to the branch swung in the breeze.

      With the posse surround them, the rustlers and Nathan had no choice but to ride their horses over to the hanging tree.

      Once they got there, one of the vigilantes said,

      Let's take the talkative young pup first, jabbing Nathan in the shoulder.

      Why not, the lynch mob leader said with a shrug. Nathan was too dazed to fight back as the deputies tied his hands behind his back. The leader threw a rope over the tree branch, secured it and placed the noose around Nathan's neck.

      The shock of death so close brought back Nathan's voice.

      I'm not a horse thief! he said, his voice gone hoarse with fear. I just met these men a few minutes ago. I'm only along for the ride!

      Consider this part of the ride, boy. said a vigilante.

      Let him go, the leader of the rustlers said, He didn't have anything to do with the rustling.

      And of course I should believe you because your word is so trustworthy, sneered the vigilante leader, Hang him, Joe!

      Joe prepared to slap Nathan's horse.

      Nathan found himself wishing that he'd listened to his father's sermons. Where was he going after he was dead? He wished he could be sure it would be heaven.

      Hyah! Joe yelled and slapped Nathan's horse. The startled animal galloped away. At the same split second that Nathan left the saddle and began to hang from the tree, a shot rang out.

      Chapter 2

      ______________

      Nathan wondered if he would be shot instead of hanged.

      But no, he fell to the ground, unhurt as the miracle bullet cut the rope.

      The posse ran. And the rustlers dashed off in the opposite direction, leaving Nathan alone on the ground.

      He stood up, hands still tied behind him. His horse had also run away, scared by the slap and the bullet. It was just as well. Nathan didn't want to be caught again with a stolen horse.

      He stood there, his heart hammering so loud it pounded in his care. Who was out there? A friend with a good aim? Or an enemy with a bad one?

      It took a real tenderfoot to get into a situation like that, a voice said from behind Nathan.

      Nathan jumped and turned around. He saw a young man with curly, sun-streaked hair and the face of an angel. He was dressed like an Indian with knee high moccasins and soft tanned leather clothes. His cowboy hat had an eagle feather in the hat band. A brown bandana was around his neck, and a gun on his hip.

      It's because I could tell you were a tenderfoot that I bothered to rescue you. I have a soft spot in my heart for a stray cat and a tenderfoot, the stranger explained.

      Nathan's mind went back to a conversation he'd had on the train three days earlier....

      I suppose there are some dangerous characters in the Black Hills, Nathan said to his seatmate, an experienced prospector.

      I hope to snort there are, said the prospector, Some of them would kill their own mother if she'd give them cold oatmeal for breakfast. Take the Kid for example.

      You mean, Billy the Kid?

      Don't ever let the Kid hear you compare him to amateurs. the prospector said with scorn, "He's THE Kid. He looks like an angel, but he's an angel of death. He walks like an Indian, dressed like one, too. They say he spent a year with the Indians and was even adopted by a chief. He can shoot the eyelash off a fly at twenty paces...:

      Now, hands still tied out here in the wilderness, Nathan looked at the blonde stranger and took a deep breath.

      You're the Kid, aren't you, he said.

      The stranger's smile dimmed.

      Nathan thought, oh

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