Bill Henderson

Weaned on Zane Grey and Louis L'Amour, Bill Henderson has spent most of his adult life in his beloved Arizona deserts and mountains. A retired construction superintendent, he now has time to pursue his love of writing, prospecting, and prowling ghost towns. With one collection of western short stories under his belt, he is now writing his first full length western novel due out this winter.

 

Dead Man Creek

Captivating stories of the old west and of the men and women who carved a life out of the harshness of the American frontier.




Cow Creek

1


I was on my way out of town with the few store-bought things Ma and Pa were needing when I first saw the riders. There were three of them, two big ones with beards and one smaller, clean-shaven, and mean looking man. It was the clean-shaven one that caught my eye because by the red marks on his face, he looked like he’d been in a fight with a catamount. Curious, I looked back over my shoulder and I saw that he had also turned in his saddle to watch me. What he saw was a tall thin boy of fifteen in worn-out high water pants, riding a long eared mule. My ears burned with the knowing of it but I remembered pa’s words, “A man is respected for his honor and his deeds, not his appearance.” I faced back in my saddle and rode on, but with a nagging feeling that I had seen them somewhere before.


Ma and Pa had come to Oklahoma after the initial big rush had seen all the good land grabbed up, so our farm was hard scrabble and mean but they were still determined to make a go of it. Now, almost ten years later, with a good house and barn and several years of bumper crops, life was finally beginning to ease up a bit. Just last week, we had all gone to a barn dance and hoe-down and I had seen ma dancing for the first time in my life. I guess I had never thought of her as a young woman, but after all, she was only in her thirties. Pa played the fiddle and watched her dance with smiling, loving eyes. It was also the first time I realized that Ma was a beautiful woman.


Ma’s family had never much approved of Pa and when he had asked her father for her hand in marriage, he had been refused. But Ma wouldn’t hear of losing her man so they eloped. Several months later, her two brothers showed up to fetch her home and Pa soundly whipped them both. After that, Ma’s family refused to acknowledge her or Pa and when I was born, they never replied to Ma’s letter about me. When Ma told me all this several years ago, I could see the sad longing in her eyes for her lost family, but she was Pa’s woman and my mother and that was what she lived for.


The dusty road was hot and dry and I was just thinking about a cool drink of water from our well when I first saw the smoke. My heart quickened because I knew what a prairie fire meant out here on the plains. It could burn for days and for miles, wiping out all the farms and towns in its path. Luckily, there was no wind so I kicked the mule in the ribs. He sensed my urgency and for once, he actually broke into a run.

You can find your copy of Dead Man Creek here