text: Jay Wilson The Murder of Cherry Creek 
   
   
     
   The Murder of Cherry Creek 
       By jay Wilson ©2005 
  Cherry Creek wasn’t the type of town where one would expect trouble.  It was a small out of the way place where pioneer families had settled to start a new way of life.  Folks didn’t want the trouble that came with the larger settlements where cattle drives and shootouts were considered normal occurrences.  The people of Cherry Creek preferred a simpler lifestyle.  What cattle were seen belonged to local ranchers.  And the few guns still carried were used to dispatch coyotes and an occasional rattlesnake.  This was a place of peace and tranquility near the end of the nineteenth century.   
  The last violence most of these people had seen was during the Civil War; a war that affected so many and a major cause for them to migrate to Cherry Creek.   Most wanted a place to escape the memories of that bad time in their lives.  I too, was here for the peace.  The war had taken its toll on me but so had my previous occupation.  Now I played a role in the serenity of our little settlement.  But I will share more about that later. 
  Cherry Creek had come into existence mainly because a single man; Thomas Jacks.   It had been nearly 15 years since he and his family settled in the third homestead and it had been growing ever since.  Jacks was an important man in our town’s history.  When the first two settlers pulled out, he stayed.  He was bound and determined that there would been a town in this area.  And he was right.  Now with better than 30 families, his vision had materialized.   The residents regarded him as sort of the `father of the town’.  It seemed everything he did was for the town and its people.  
  We all followed Jacks lead and pitched in to make this land our home and a fine place to raise families.  We had our occasional drifter who would get drunk or someone riding their horses unsafely.  We even had a theft every once in a while but it was usually kids acting up.  As a rule, we had nothing serious to complain about.  Crime was really non-existent.  That was until the murder of Cherry Creek. 
  Thomas Jacks’ body was found in his old shack just west of town.  Tom, as all his friends called him, was a good man and his death was a shock to our little settlement.  He had been the inspiration to settle in Cherry Creek along with his wife and little girl.  He was a pillar of the community.  Two years ago, when my wife Ellie and I came here, he helped in every way he could.  He had even helped me to acquire my homestead and he was there helping with the `roof raising’ on my house.  He helped all who needed it and will be missed by many.  Tom was a friend to the community.  I even knew about the time he was sending can goods over to the McNeil spread.  John McNeil had been killed when he was thrown from his horse.  Tom saw to it Mary McNeil and her young daughters weren’t going to go hungry.  He was that kind of man and all respected him for it. 
  Tom and I had become good friends and I guess I knew him as well as anyone did.  And he knew me also.  I had been a lawman for most of my adult life and we talked about it many times.  He felt he could talk me about most anything.  And he told me so several times.  I also felt I could talk to him about most things.  Sometimes he told more than I really wanted to know.  Once he told me his wife left him six months before.  He said it was because of a problem back east with her family and they needed her.  I suspected there was more to it but I tend to mind my own business; well, that is until lately.   
  When Tom’s body was found, several of the town leaders asked me to come to a special meeting about what to do.  A murder was unheard of in Cherry Creek but this was far beyond just a murder.  The `town father’ had been killed.  They knew I had retired from my lawman days as a deputy sheriff back east to build my ranch here in Cherry Creek.  They knew I had the experience to deal with and investigate this hideous crime.  It would take more lawman to solve this case than the town had with the sheriff they had.  I had said many times I was glad to be retired from packing a gun and dealing with the lawless.  Still, they felt I should get involved due to my experience and I agreed.   
  We had hired a young man to be the town sheriff but it was a figurehead job.  Billy was a counter clerk at Johnson’s Mercantile.  There really wasn’t much for him to do because there just wasn’t any crime in our town.  Billy was with the group of men when I arrived at the meeting hall.  The committee wanted me to head the investigation. The suggestion was made by Billy.  He felt this was more than he was capable of handling.  I agreed to help.  Billy and I saddled our horses and rode back over to Tom’s place with the others to see what I thought.  After all, Tom was a friend of mine too; a trusted friend. 
  Tom’s body had been found out back of the main house in the old shelter.  This is where he and his family had lived when they first settled at Cherry Creek.  It was a simple plank one-room building.  The new bigger house was built as his wealth grew.  Tom used the small structure now as a storage area and small office.  It has small windows but only one door to the outside.  This doorway is where my friend was laying.  He was face down, halfway out side, blocking the main door.  It looked like he had been shot or stabbed inside, by the blood on the floor, but had managed to crawl to the door before collapsing.  His hand was lying in the dirt and he had drawn a five pointed star in the sandy soil.   
  He was found that way earlier in the day by Billy.  Our young sheriff’s main job was delivering supplies to the local ranches and homesteads.  He had gone out to deliver some ranching supplies to Tom’s when he found the murdered man.  Even with how little Billy knew about crime investigation, he knew to preserve the crime scene.  The star was evidence that could be used to solve the murder.   Tom was trying to tell us something.  The inexperienced lawman had posted a man to keep everyone back away from the body and house so they wouldn’t mess up any other evidence that might be there. 
  I also asked the other men standing around to stay outside while Billy and I entered the shack to look for more clues.  From the blood evidence and the overturned boxes and chairs, it was obvious that a fight had occurred inside and this was where and when Tom received his fatal injury.  Billy found a broken rowel from a spur.  It had dug into the wooden floor before it broke, obviously during the fight.  Tom wasn’t wearing spurs.  I put the piece in my pocket for safe keeping.  Doc Robins arrived about the time we were coming back out of the shack.  He was our local sawbones.  No one was sure about where he came from or why.  He was a good man and respected.   That was enough for us to know.  He delivered babies and set broken bones, but today he was going to help determine the cause of death of Tom.  And in doing so, maybe help solve a murder.   
  I stood by while he examined the body.  He checked the wound where the bulk of blood had come from as well as the cuts and abrasions to his head.  He also pointed out two long scratches which appeared to be from an earlier affray.  They looked like scratches one would get from fingernails; a woman’s finger nails.  The old Doctor did a thorough examination of the body.  His findings were the deceased had died from a single knife wound to the stomach.  The knife’s blade had cut an artery and had caused Tom to bleed to death.  He felt the wound was the primary cause the amount of blood on the floor but could not say if some of the blood could have been from Tom’s attacker.  He also found the numerous abrasions and bruises associated with a violent fight about the dead man’s head and shoulders.  Tom’s knuckles were also skinned and bruised badly indicating he had put up a hell of a fight.  And all who knew Tom knew it wouldn’t be like him to go down easy. 
  I asked Billy to get his notebook and make a sketch of the whole area where the body was laying, the star drawn in the dirt, the broken rowel, and blood locations inside the shack.  We might need this information when we contacted the marshal over in Lexington. If we formed a case, the circuit judge, also from Lexington would handle the trail.   All we could do is try to solve what happened, why, and by whom.  Tom’s body was loaded in the back of Doc’s buckboard and taken back to Cherry Creek to his office.  There he could perform a much more detailed examination. But Doc also said he didn’t expect to find much more that what he already knew.  Everyone left the ranch for town with the exception of Billy and me.   We stayed at the scene and continued to look for more clues. 
  We decided to start in the main house.  The house’s doors were unlocked and we began our search for clues.  Nothing appeared to be disturbed, out of place, or appeared to have been gone through.  Everything seemed to be in its proper place.    Billy did question why the murderer didn’t come in the house and look for more money or other things of value.  I guessed that he killer had been in a hurry to get away.  He had just killed a man and wouldn’t want to hang around for long enough to search a house.  Billy thought on it and agreed.  It would have been foolish for anyone to kill a man and then wonder around in the house.  But still, I felt we should continue the search just in case.   
  We did not find Tom’s wallet or his gold watch anywhere in the house; both were missing from his body which was strange.  His watch was a gift from the town of Cherry Creek when he was honored as a town founder.  He was never without it.  The watch was his pride.  That was the first indication the motive was robbery and not just a murder.  I deducted Tom’s killer must have taken the items with him and probably off the dead man.  After the search of the house was completed, we moved outside.  I took the north side and Billy started looking to the south to see what we could find.  We separated to cover the ground quicker.  I called for Billy when I found Tom’s wallet laying about 40 feet from the shack.  It looked as if it had been tossed near the bushes after being emptied of its contents. 
  Billy had found some horse tracks leading south from the house toward the open range.  He had lost the trail about a hundred yards out when the tracks diminished in the rocky terrain.  The directions of the tracks lead us to believe the crime was done by a drifter and after the robbery; he had headed south toward Lexington about 40 miles away.  The shoes of the horse were worn down and obviously needed replacing.  The unknown rider would be looking to have his horse shod.  Lexington was the only town in the direction the tracks ran.  So, Lexington would be my next place to look; even though I didn’t know what I was looking for.  I needed to go over to see the marshal to report the crime anyhow.  I wrote down a report of what I thought about the case and had Billy do the same.  I carried both reports and the crime scene drawing that Billy had made.  We didn’t have much but it was all we had.   
  I went by to tell my wife, Ellie where I was going and why.  She was very worried about me but I told her everything would be okay.  She wasn’t sure I should get involved.  She seemed better when I explained this was something I needed to do to insure the case was handled right.  She understood but still wasn’t happy about it.  As I left the house, she had to hug me one more time.  Ellie squeezed me so tight like she didn’t want to let go.  It was like she thought I wasn’t coming back.  I, again, assured her I would be back shortly.  But I had to go and report this to the law in Lexington.  I had to see it was done right.  I kissed Ellie gently, mounted my horse and rode away.  At the ridge line, I turned back in the saddle and saw her still watching.  It saddened me that she worried.  Still I had to go.    
  Once in Lexington, I found the marshal’s office.  As I entered I was greeted by a big man sitting behind the desk.  By the lawman shield on his chest, I guessed this was the man I was looking for.  With a half-way grin, he stood, and introduced himself.  My first impression was right.  I had never met him but had heard of him before.  I introduced myself and stated why I was there as the lawman sat back down.   Marshal Reese leaned on his elbows on his desk as he listened to my report and how we needed his help.  I showed him the reports, drawings, and the piece of rowel from the spur.  He patiently listened as I presented what all we had found.  After a while, his demeanor seemed to change to a lack of interest.  I was puzzled until he explained he had something to show me that might be of interest to my case.  We walked into a back room where a double set of 10 holding cells lined up both sides of the room.  There were five or six men in individual cells.   
  Marshal Reese led me to a cell to the far end of the room.  Sitting on a bunk was a young cowboy who appeared to be a drover.  He looked like a hard-case who would be the type to be in a jail.  His black eye and showed it too.   The marshal told me he had arrested Yates the previous night in one of the local saloons.  The Texas cowpuncher had been drinking and playing poker.  Witnesses all agreed that Yates had been making trouble all night with his hard partying and bad-mouthing folks.  Somehow the trouble turned on a couple of whiskey salesmen at a side table.  It wasn’t very clear who started it or why but Yates took to cutting up one of the drummers with a knife.  The deep, multiple knife cuts caused the demise of the drummer on the saloon floor.  Yates was arrested and was being held for murder in jail awaiting the judge to come to town.  And with all the witnesses, Yates would hang for the killing.  Still, the lawman wanted to know if the drover was the same man who had killed the man in Cherry Creek. 
  Marshal Reese asked the incarcerated man if he had just come through that part of the country on his way to Lexington.  Strangely, he man admitted he had.  The questioning continued and Yates even admitted he had stopped at Tom’s ranch.  He was looking for some work and had talked to Tom and just left.  He denied there had been a fight or anything else with the rancher.  Reese asked about the black eye which the cowboy sported when he rode into Lexington the previous day.  Still the caged man denied he had a fight with Tom.   I produced the broken rowel and handed it to the lawman.  Reese showed the man the rowel.  It matched the broken spur which had been removed from Yates when he was arrested.  The story now changed.  Yates admitted getting into a fight with Tom in the shack.  He had rode up to the house but saw Tom back at the shack.  The drover approached him and asked if he could do some work for a meal.  Tom started bad mouthing him and called him a saddle tramp. Tom told him to get off his property.  Yates followed Tom into the shack and a fight ensued but he swore he did not kill Tom.  He claimed he beat the man to the floor but did not knife him or kill him.  He claimed he just rode away and left the man lying on the floor.  The way he described the fight was almost like bragging.  We each had heard enough.  
  The marshal and I walked back out to his desk.  Reese felt Yates was the man who killed my friend, Tom.  The cowboy admitted being there and his face was marked which indicated a serious fight which is probably when Tom’s knuckles became skinned.  The lawman walked around behind his desk and sat down.  He looked up at me and smiled.  He said he had something else that matches something in my report.  Reese opened drawer in his desk and lifted out a gun belt with a singe holstered six-gun.  He had taken it off of Yates the night before.  On the holster was a five pointed silver star.   It matched the drawing in the sand.  Most likely, that holster was the clue that Tom had drawn in the sand.  The lawman was sure he had our guy.  Also there was better than a hundred dollars in his pockets when arrested.  Yates said he talked to Tom for some work for a meal.   
  Why would a man with a hundred dollars need to work for a meal? There was no gold watch but that probably meant Yates had lost it in a poker game or sold it.  Reese felt there was plenty of evidence on Yates.  And on top of that, Yates would hang for the murder of the drummer.  He didn’t need the killing of my friend to be hung.  The Texas cowboy was already a condemned man.  Simply put; our case was solved and the guilty man would hang.  There would be no need for a trial.  He felt the judge wouldn’t even need me to testify as added information in the case of the killed drummer.  And he made a good point.  Why drag all the people from Cherry Creek through the ugliness of having to relive the killing of their friend.  Yates was going to hang for sure anyway.  He felt justice would be served.   I left the marshal’s office feeling good.  I agreed to explain to everyone back at Cherry Creek that Tom’s murderer would be hung, if not directly, indirectly for the killing.  I, too, felt justice would be served.  I even felt relieved with this way of handling the killer. 
  On the ride back to Cherry Creek I thought a lot on this case.  But my thoughts would have surprised the marshal.  My thoughts would have surprised a lot of people.  I was thinking about how, two weeks ago, I had arrived early back at my ranch and saw my good friend, Thomas Jacks riding away from my house.  I wasn’t supposed to be back until the next day but came in sooner to surprise my wife, Ellie.  Well, it was me who was surprised.  I sat on the ridge line watching Tom cutting cross-country through the woods toward his house.  This gave me a bad feeling as to the reason why a man was leaving my house and my wife in a suspicious manner.  I wasn’t going to draw a conclusion until I heard what my wife said about the purpose of him being there.   
  I waited several hours before riding on down to my house.  I didn’t want Ellie to think I might have seen anything or suspected anything.  On my arrival, she seemed very happy to see me.  Nothing appeared to be amiss.  I had been gone to Lexington to work on a deal to sell the army some beef.  When I got through with the dealing early, I decided to back rather than spending another night away from my wife.  Ellie seemed sincere about being pleased I was back.  I asked if anything had happened while I was gone.  She stated there was nothing.  I asked had anyone come by.  Again she denied anything.  I remember her walking over to the fireplace and sitting down in a chair.   
  My mind was whirling.  Here sat the love of my life lying to me.  She denied anyone had been by, yet I had just seen Tom leaving three hours before.  Ellie just sat by the fire staring into the small blaze flickering under a pot of beans.  I spent too many years in law enforcement to be fooled by someone with a guilty conscience.  There was something eating her insides.  I started to confront her with what I saw earlier.  As I opened my mouth to speak, Ellie turned in her chair and looked into my eyes; she was troubled.  I remembered the look on her face when she suddenly got up and ran to me, burying her face in my chest.  She was trembling and began crying.   Her eyes, filled with tears 
  searched upwards slowly until they found mine.  She said something bad had happened and she needed to talk to me.  Ellie said she was scared to tell me for she feared what I would do.  She made me promise that I would not do anything without really thinking about the consequences.  Now my imagination was really going wild.  Ellie confessed that Tom had come by earlier in the day.  I braced myself for the worst.  I felt my jaw tighten.  I told her to tell me what was wrong.   
  She said Tom had stopped to talk to me several hours before I had arrived back from Lexington.  Ellie told him that I was doing some business in Lexington and wouldn’t be back until the next day.  He said he was thirsty and would appreciate a drink of water.  She invited him in for some cool water, being he was a good friend of mine.  She liked him too. She felt Tom had always been a perfect gentleman and saw no harm in this friendly gesture.  He had seated himself at the plank table and friendly conversations between them begin as he sipped the water from his cup.   Then Tom started making little comments about if he had a wife like Ellie, he wouldn’t go off and leave her alone so much.  The comments became stronger about her being young and probably needing a man more than most women.  The conversation had definitely crossed the lines of friendship.  She said he had the devil in his eye and was offended.  She also became frightened.  
  Finally Ellie stood up, walked to the door and told him he should leave.  Tom stood up and walked toward the now-open door.  But instead of leaving, he slammed it shut and grabbed my wife, her pinning her against the wall.  He had hold of her arms as he tried to kiss her.  His body was rubbing up against hers in a most inappropriate way.  I remember thinking to myself, any touching was inappropriate.  I remembered how my jaw tightened again.  Between sobs, Ellie continued tell me of the attack.  It continued a couple of minutes until she managed to get her hand loose and scratched Tom hard across the face.  The deep abrasion caused him to back off.  Ellie grabbed her wooden rolling pin, raised it to a striking position and ordered him out of the house.  She said he was furious and glared at her.   
  With blood running down his face from the scratch, he exited the house but not before warning her.  Tom told her she had best not say anything about what had happened or he would burn our house with us in our bed.  He told her that she had better listen to him and had better keep her mouth shut.   If she said anything, he would come back and finish his intentions.  And she believed him.  I thought of how she looked when she told me that she didn’t want to tell me what Tom had done.  She was scared of what I would do. 
  Ellie had indeed been through her own living hell.  I remembered when I was sitting on the ridge, watching Tom ride from the house and noticing him having his bandanna held to his face.  It didn’t make sense when I first saw it but it did now.  My wife had confessed a dark secret of what happened to her.  I felt ashamed of when I had thought she was being unfaithful.  I didn’t see any need to tell her about my seeing Tom leaving the house or of my misdirected suspicions.   Ellie felt bad enough.  I remember the look on her face when I told her I was going to see this man of who I thought was my trusted friend.  She begged me not to do anything.  She told me she would lose me if I did anything to Tom.  She was right but I would have my revenge.  I told her I would wait until the time was right.  I was going to heart to heart talk to him about it and if he was lucky, I would just break his nose.  He would pay for his indiscretions.  
  The next day I went into Cherry Creek to talk to the banker about a loan to help me with the transaction I had made with the army.  I was going to need a small sum to finance a couple of men, grub, and fees to move the 40 head of cattle to Fort Cooper, 20 miles to the other side of Lexington.  When I was coming out of the bank, I saw Tom just as he saw me.  He smiled and asked if I had just got back and how did the bid with the army go.  At first I couldn’t speak.  Standing in front of me was the same man who had attacked my wife; but now was not the time.  I forced a smile and told him about my trip.  He looked as if he was happy for me.  As we stood on the wooden walkway, it was all I could do not to kill the man right then and there.  Tom was laughing and talking like nothing had ever happened in my home; with my wife.  This was not the same man, we in Cherry Creek thought we knew.   This man was a monster in the worst sense.  I wondered if he had done this same deed to any other women in Cherry creek.  As I watched him talking, I couldn’t take my eye off the two scratch marks sliding down the left side of his face.  Ellie marked him well.  I bid him a goodbye and turned to leave.  My gut tightened up when he made a remark for me to tell Ellie he said hello. 
  Yes, the ride back to Cherry Creek gave me plenty of time to think how everything had worked out.   Two days earlier I had gone out to confront Tom about Ellie at his ranch.  I thought I had this under control better than I did.  I was simply going to let him know I knew what happened and that he was never to come around my house or speak to Ellie again.  And I wanted him to know he was no longer regarded as a friend.  But I did want this one opportunity to give him a piece of my mind.  I didn’t know if I would cuss him, threaten him or hit him.  But killing him, my first choice, was not to be considered.  I promised Ellie.  My wife made sense.  If I did what I wanted to, they would hang me from the gallows.  As a former lawman, I knew they would catch me.  No one gets away with murder.  Still I would have my say with the man.   
  I remember how as I approached the house, I saw Tom and a man arguing out back at the old shack.  I didn’t want anyone to see me at the ranch so I hid in the trees.  The two men were very loud.  I could see Tom shaking his fist at the cowboy and that really made the disagreement heat up.  At one point, Tom turned and went into the cabin and the other man followed.  I could hear a lot of arguing and then the breaking of glass and furniture.  It sounded like a fight had started and things were being broken.  My first impulse was to rush in but I was not there as a lawman or … a friend.  I waited.  Shortly, a cowboy came out of the shack, looked around, and got on his horse.  He turned the horse’s head and rode south toward the open range and Lexington.   I had recognized Yates as the cowboy when I saw him at the jail.  After Yates was gone I rode down and called out for Tom.   
  As I approached the shack, Tom staggered to the door, looked at me, and then back inside.  I dismounted and I followed him inside.  His nose was bleeding and looked as if Yates had given him a pretty good beating.  He appeared to be in bad shape and unsteady on his feet. He staggered over and sat down.   As I looked at the man of who I once trusted with my life, the hate built up and overflowed.  I didn’t know if this was the right time or not but we were going to have an understanding.  Tom was sitting on a trunk.  I had no concern for his welfare.  With him there before me, I kept seeing Ellie’s face as she was crying and telling me about what happened.  I kept thinking about him forcing his way on my wife.  I kept thinking of how Ellie had to feel as this man pressed his body forcible against hers.  I kept remembering the look of hopelessness in her sweet face as she told me.  It had been bottled up in me for two weeks and I was going to have my say.  And he was going to pay heed or face the consequences. 
  The words flowed freely from my mouth.  I told him exactly what Ellie had told me.  At first he denied it but when I said I had seen him.  He put his eyes down.  I told him if I ever spoke to her or to anyone about what had happened, I would kill him where I found him.  I had seen the look on his face many times as a deputy sheriff.  He raised his eyes to stare into mine. I did not know this person who was here in front of me.  I knew what was coming next.  I was ready when he came off the truck and straight at me.  It was then I saw the flash of the knife.  I didn’t see where it came from but the knife’s intention was apparent.  This was not the Tom Jacks I had known.  This was not the man who had befriended me when first came to Cherry Creek.  But this was the same man who attacked my wife and now, who wanted to kill me.  I remember blocking the knife and turning it just enough to twist it loose.  The weapon fell and I struck Tom with my fist.  As he went down, I picked up the knife.  As he came up again, I plunged the knife into him to the hilt without giving it a second thought.  We wrestled around but I kept the blade buried in his belly.  His face turned a deathly white and relaxed.  I looked into his eyes as he slowly dropped to the floor.  I remember I told him something about this being for Ellie.  His face twist a little from the pain and whispered he was sorry.  For me and Ellie, it was too late to be sorry.  And for him it was much too late to be regretful.   
  As he lay on the floor, my plan started to came together.  I had to throw-off anyone who might come out to the house and find Tom.  I had to leave false leads that would not lead back to me.  First I would make this look like a robbery.  I took his gold watch and wallet from his vest.  When he was found, I wanted folks to think Tom was killed by a thief.  I had not planned for Yates to be blamed for the murder but it just worked out that way.  And it worked out for the best.   He was going to be hung for a different murder; but a murder never the less.   I took his time piece and the knife and threw them both down the well by the shack.  I threw the wallet out into some nearby bushes where I knew it would be found.  I had taken the money out and would use it sometime to help someone in need.  I didn’t need this man’s money.   I wanted this to look like robbery and I thought I did well.  But I didn’t count on Tom crawling out to the door and I sure didn’t count on him scratching that star in the dirt before he died.  Assuming he was dead without checking before I left him was a bad mistake on my part.   There had been mistakes but it seemed everything has fell into place.  I would not be a suspect even through Tom practically named me as the murderer. 
  As I rode up to the sheriff’s office in Cherry Creek, my thoughts returned to the present.  Billy and some of the townsmen saw me and came out to see what I found out over at Lexington.  Questions followed me as I walked into the office and poured me a cup of coffee.  I wanted to handle this part just right and kill any notion of the crime being anything other than what I said.  I told him about Yates and how he would hang for murdering a fella during a poker game.  I told him about the cowboy admitting being at Tom’s, the fight, the spur, and the star on the man’s holster.  I even explained about Tom’s knuckle and the cowboy’s black eye.  Yep, it sounded good and they bought it.  It sounded like we had our man and he was going to die for killing our friend and leading citizen of Cherry Creek.   
  As I finished my cup of coffee and the report of what I had found out in Lexington, the room grew quiet.  Billy walked over and put his hand on my shoulder.  He then told me that he and the city council had had a special meeting.  Due to this murder, they felt it was time for some professional law enforcement in Cherry Creek.  They, Billy included, wanted for me to become the town marshal with Billy as my deputy.  The thought shocked me but I liked the sound of it.  And I didn’t feel one bit bad of how the events had unfolded. I told them I would have to think about it.  Right now, I was tired and going home and see my wife.  I couldn’t wait to tell her how all of this had come together.   My real thoughts were how justice had been served all the way around.  Tom deserved to die for what he did or tried to do. I was content that Ellie never had to feel Tom’s eyes on her again.  She would never have to wonder what he is thinking when he looked at her.  He was gone and would be buried tomorrow.  And my wife and I were going to bury this memory with him; to never be talked about again.    
  I knew Tom’s funeral would be one of the biggest Cherry Creek had ever seen.  Everyone would come to this one.  There would even be some ranchers from over near Lexington there.  I knew he would be like a legend to the town for all his work and years of dedication.  And I knew Ellie would sit near the front of the funeral while I would be sitting with the pallbearers.  Someday there might even be talk of a statue of old Tom put on the town square and I would vote in favor of it.  All of those thoughts were of tomorrow and later.  Right now I just wanted to see Ellie.  I wanted her to know everything was going to work out for the better.  I rode a little faster than usual to get to my house and wife. 
  She met me at the door.  She had been worried that something had happened to me or had gone wrong.  It was just too much to believe I had gotten away with the killing of the town’s leading citizen.  Ellie knew when the men all saw the star in the sand which Tom had drawn, they would put it together.  But the funniest thing was when I told her they wanted me to become the town sheriff, she smiled.  She threw her arms around me and squeezed my neck hard.     
  Ellie looked up and said, “Sheriff Jacob Star.  I like the sound of that.”    
   
   
   Publication Date: February 8th 2010 https://www.bookrix.com/-jaywilson