The Legend of Miner's Creek
Read The Legend of Miner's Creek Online
Authors: Carolyn Keene
1
A Fiery Welcome
“What if lightning strikes the plane?” Bess Marvin said nervously. She leaned forward in the small aircraft and grabbed her friend Nancy Drew's arm as she spoke.
Nancy looked out the window at the black thunderhead clouds hovering just above and north of the light plane. From her seat next to the pilot, eighteen-year-old Nancy had a clear view of the gathering summer storm. Soon the clouds would block out the sun that filtered through the window and accented the red highlights in Nancy's blond hair. Below the clouds she saw the jagged peaks of Washington State's Cascade Mountains.
“I think we're safe for now,” Nancy said. She leaned around the back of her seat so she could smile at Bess, who was directly behind her. Nancy was used to reassuring her friend, who was often a
reluctant participant in Nancy's adventures as a detective.
Now, seeing Bess's pale face, Nancy felt a twinge of sympathy. Bess was so scared that she hadn't even bothered to brush back the lock of long blond hair that had fallen out of place and hung across her cheek. And Bess's eyes, Nancy noticed, had lost their usual sparkle.
“Your friend's right.” Their pilot, Beau Dalton Eastham, glanced over his shoulder at Bess. He was a large man, tall and sturdily built. Dark hair covered the sides of his head, but the top was bald and shiny. His straw cowboy hat hung on a special hook on the back of his pilot's seat. “The storm is a doozy, all right, but it's still quite a ways to the north,” he said. “We'll be on the ground before it gets here.”
Bess gave a deep sigh but didn't relax her grip on the back of Nancy's seat. Her fingernails were white from pressing against the metal.
“Watch it, or you'll break those precious nails,” George Fayne said lightly from her seat next to Bess. George was Bess's cousin and, like Bess, a loyal friend of Nancy. Unlike Bess, George was tall and athletic. Her short, curly, dark-brown hair was full of bounce and seemed to reflect her energetic personality. “I'm sure Mr. Eastham knows what he's doing,” George told Bess.
“Call me B.D.,” the pilot broke in. “And you really can relax. I've been flying from Seattle to Eagle Point for twenty years now, and Iâ” His
words were cut short as the plane seemed to drop out from under the girls. Nancy felt her stomach jump to her throat just as a flash of lightning outlined a jagged peak to the north.
“Ahhh!”
Nancy turned in the direction of the scream. George's mouth was still open, as though she'd just had her breath stolen away. She was sitting up very straight in her seat. A glance at Bess's face told Nancy that her friend was too scared to say anything.
“Air pockets,” B.D. announced as he worked the controls confidently. “But don't worry. We're coming up on the airport now.”
The plane bumped three more times, as though running over rocks in the sky, before settling into a smooth descent.
“None too soon for me,” George said.
Nancy looked out her window at the single runway coming up beneath them. As the plane landed with a jolting thump, Nancy could see their hosts waiting by a dusty blue van near the airport's only hangar. One other small building stood next to the hangar. Probably an office, Nancy thought. There was no terminal building, no paved parking lot, no one except Charlie Griffin and his granddaughter, Rachel, waiting for the plane to arrive.
“This is definitely the smallest airport I've ever seen,” George said.
“It serves our needs,” B.D. said as he turned the plane in a small circle and steered toward Charlie
and Rachel. “Private planes and a few small charters are all that ever come here.”
Charlie waved as the plane taxied to a stop. His hair had turned a rich silver and the creases in his face had grown deeper since Nancy had last seen him back in River Heights. He had been in Nancy's hometown to visit with her grandparents, who had enjoyed vacations at Charlie's rustic resort, Highland Retreat. Now, even in his early seventies, Charlie looked athletic and capable.
Rachel, Charlie's granddaughter, stood next to him. She was a slender teenager with fine brown hair pulled straight back in a loose ponytail. Nancy knew from her father, Carson Drew, that Rachel had been living at the retreat since her parents had died several years earlier, but the two girls had never met.
“Rough trip?” Charlie asked the girls as he opened the plane door.
“I'll say,” Bess volunteered. “I hope we're taking the train back.”
“No extra charge for the roller coaster ride,” B.D. joked as he and Charlie exchanged slaps on the back.
Each of the girls got a firm handshake from Charlie and a cheerful smile from Rachel as introductions were made.
“Am I glad to see you,” Rachel said. “Most of our guests are families with small children. It's not very often we have other teenagers at the retreat.”
“And we're looking forward to having you show
us around,” Nancy said. “We want to see everything.”
“Yes, after we rest,” Bess said. “After that plane trip I'm too shaken up for sight-seeing.”
“Are you too shaken up for lunch?” Charlie asked as he and B.D. helped carry the girls' bags to the van. “The retreat is about twenty minutes from here. I thought we'd grab a bite to eat in town before we drive out.”
“Take them to Miner's Creek Saloon,” B.D. suggested. “They've got the best burgers in the county.”
“Food, I can handle,” Bess said. “All that excitement's made me hungry.”
Nancy and George laughed. Bess was nearly always ready to eat.
“I'm starved, too,” Nancy said. “And we'll have a chance to hear more about the sale of the Highland Retreat over lunch.”
It had been three weeks since Charlie had called Nancy's father, a prominent River Heights attorney, for legal advice about the sale of Charlie's land. During that phone call, Charlie had also invited Nancy and her friends to visit before the resort was sold.
As the girls climbed into the van, Charlie asked B.D., “We still on for cribbage Thursday night?”
“I'm counting on it,” B.D. said, smiling at Charlie. “And it's your turn to provide the food.”
“Right. See you at nine,” Charlie called as he climbed behind the wheel of the van.
“That B.D. is quite a pilot,” George said to Charlie as he drove away.
“He's the best, all right,” Charlie said. “B.D. flies a lot of our guests in to the retreat. I probably wouldn't be in business without him and his airport.”
“B.D. is a good friend, too,” Rachel added. “He spends a lot of time up at the Highlands, hiking and stuff, not to mention all those cribbage games with Granddad.”
Nancy tried to picture the rugged B.D. turning cards and moving pegs along a cribbage board. It was easier to imagine him outdoors. “He seems more like a mountain man than a cribbage player,” Nancy said.
“Well, he's that, too,” Rachel said. “B.D.'s a fisherman and also the unofficial Eagle County historian.”
“I'm not surprised to hear that,” George said. “He was telling us stories during our flight about the fur trappers who were the first white settlers here.”
“Before the gold prospectors,” Bess added.
“B.D. tells all our guests that story. It gets them in the mood for their vacation at the retreat,” Rachel said with a laugh. “A lot of the guests pan for gold in Miner's Creek. Some of them like that more than the hiking and animal watching.”
As they drove down the main street of Eagle Point, Nancy felt as though she had been transported back one hundred years. The town looked
like an old western village, even though it catered to tourists and was really quite modern. The sidewalks were made of wood, and the buildings looked as if they had appeared straight out of an old cowboy movie.
Charlie parked on the street in front of Miner's Creek Saloon and showed the girls inside. The dining room had dark wooden paneling, brass fixtures, and checked curtains on the front windows. They ordered lunch, and their small table was soon covered with oversize cheeseburgers and big plates of home-style french fries.
“I think Bess is in heaven,” George joked.
“I am,” Bess answered. “And I think I'm going to love Eagle Point. It's just getting here that I could do without.”
The others laughed and quickly dug into their food. Soon Charlie was mopping up the last dab of ketchup from his plate with a fat french fry.
“You asked about the Highlands sale earlier,” Charlie said, turning to Nancy. He frowned and looked down at the table. “I guess your father told you I'm selling the place to the government. The money will help me pay for Rachel's college education.”
Nancy suspected from his tone that Charlie wasn't completely happy about selling his land. She couldn't blame him for that. It was the only home he had ever known. She glanced at Rachel and saw that she, too, looked unhappy.
“I want to be a marine biologist,” Rachel told the
girls with the same hint of sadness in her voice that Nancy had detected in Charlie's. “I wish Granddad didn't have to sell his land, but there's just no other way.”
“My Rachel will be able to do a lot of good for the environment,” Charlie said. He reached across the table to touch his granddaughter's hand gently. “And we should have the money from the sale next year. . . . That is, if everything goes right.”
“Sometimes I wonder if it's going to,” Rachel said with a sigh. “So many things have happened on the retreat this summer.”
“Like what?” Nancy asked quickly. She was well known around River Heights for solving cases that had baffled the police. Any hint of a mystery always got her attention.
“Oh, nothing serious,” Charlie said. “Little things, like papers disappearing.”
“Papers having to do with the sale?” Nancy asked.
“Yes,” Rachel said, leaning forward. “You see, before the government can buy the land, the state legislature has to agree to pay for it. We're counting on Senator John P. Callihan, who used to live here in Eagle Point, to convince them to do that. He said he'd help, but the forms he sends Granddad keep disappearing.”
“Lost in the mail,” Charlie broke in lightly. “No mystery there. Just Rachel's overactive imagination, I'm afraid.”
“Maybe, but what about the fires?” Rachel said,
looking squarely at her grandfather. “Even you can't explain those away so easily.”
Charlie's smile was replaced by a frown. Nancy thought she saw a look of sadness in his eyesâor was it fear?
“Do you mean there have been fires at the Highlands?” Nancy asked.
“Just small ones,” Charlie said, still frowning. “And I don't think they're much of a mystery either, really.”
“Granddad thinks the fires have been accidentally set by guests,” Rachel said. “Sometimes people are pretty careless with cigarettes and matches.”
“Did you find cigarettes or matches at the fires?” Nancy asked.
Charlie shook his head. “No, Nothing,” he said. “That is a little strange, I guess, but I wouldn't call it a mystery. Nothing like what you're used to, Nancy.”
Nancy thought about their conversation as she and her friends followed Charlie and Rachel out of the restaurant. There was probably a logical explanation for the fires, she decided finally. As they pushed through the doors to the rustic main street, Nancy breathed in the pine-scented air and thought about how much she was going to enjoy her relaxing vacation.
After climbing into the van, Nancy, Bess, and George didn't have to wait long to get a firsthand view of the ancient Cascade forests. The paved road quickly gave way to dirt. On both sides of the
road hundred-year-old evergreen trees stretched to the sky.
“This is our property on the right,” Charlie said. “The U.S. Forest Service owns the land on the other side of the road.”
“It's beautiful,” Nancy said. “A fire here would be a real tragedy.”
“It certainly would,” Charlie agreed. “Fire could destroy the forest and our business at the same time. Fortunately, we've been able to avoid any major disasters so far.”
