Shadows over Silver Creek
When a hydrologist is intimidated at a mountain train depot, a retired wildland smokejumper and his teenage nephew step in to expose corporate timber fraud and protect their home.
Fictional story. Contains depictions of environmental fraud, corporate intimidation, and physical confrontation.Chapter 1: The Sawdust and the Cedar
The air inside Julian Vance’s workshop always smelled of cut yellow pine, beeswax, and cold mountain fog. Sitting high on the western slope of Blackwood Ridge, three miles above the logging town of Silver Creek, the stone cabin had served as Julian’s sanctuary for six years. At forty-two, with wrists like cured iron and graying hair cropped short, he spent his days behind a heavy oak workbench, hand-planing planks of seasoned red cedar. Across the shop, his sixteen-year-old nephew Caleb swept shavings into a copper dustpan.
Caleb had lived with Julian since his parents died in a highway accident four winters ago. Julian had traded the high-adrenaline hazards of wildland smokejumping—fifteen years parachuting into burning forest canopies—for the quiet routine of woodworking and orchard keeping. The townspeople of Silver Creek respected Julian, though few knew him well. He was the quiet craftsman who supplied the hardware store with hand-carved lintels, paid his taxes in cash, and kept his old Dodge truck running smoothly through long alpine winters.