The Problem With Creek Valley General Store

"What's all the fuss about, Pierre?"

Pierre stopped sharpening his knife, and looked up. He put the stone next to him on the rough bench, and placed the knife in its sheath. "Don! This must be your first trip into town this summer. Did you have a good catch?"

Don sat, propping a huge pack against the wall of Greene's Trading Post. "I must say I did quite well with mink this year. Beaver, not so much."

Pierre nodded. "That's Roberto Ratcliff, the owner of Creek Valley General Store. His first shipment just arrived. We're all waiting to see what he's going to charge."

Don scratched at his dense, dark beard. "Why is he setting up shop here?"

Pierre shook his head. "He claims he likes Creek Valley, and wants to settle here."

Don snorted. "Nobody comes here planning to stay. It's only after you've been here a few years that you know you could never live anywhere else."

Pierre scratched his head. "I know. It just doesn't make sense. Why not build in Hard Luck Falls, where he could maybe get a contract supplying the mounties? Or if he doesn't want the competition, just keep going downstream. There are so many places where he'd be the only trading post for hundreds of miles. Why set up right across the road from a competitor, in a small trapping outpost?"

Don laughed. "I stopped trying to make sense of city people a long time ago!"

The next day, Don and Pierre stood in the new store.

Don whistled. "I've never seen prices like this out here! If he keeps it up, Greene's will be out of business by this time next year."

Pierre nodded grimly. "The prices are great, all right. But what if he gets tired of being out here after a few years? Or triples his prices once Greene heads out for sparser territory? Fritz Greene might charge more than this newcomer, but he's been here almost fifteen years. He's reliable, and more importantly, one of us."

Don scanned the shelves with his eyes. "True, but what can we do about it? People will want to shop here. I know I'm going to be getting a few things I didn't think I'd be able to afford."

Pierre scowled. "I thought you wanted to help Fritz."

Don picked up a heavy winter coat. "I do, but this sure would keep me warm, come winter."

Pierre sighed. "There are some things I need too, but this is important. If Greene's closes, and Roberto Ratcliff moves on, we'll be forced to go all the way to Porky Knoll for our supplies."

Don put the coat over his arm. "I'm not going to stop shopping at Greene's. I'm just getting a few things here, is that really going to hurt?"

Pierre looked at the line of people waiting to pay for their items. "I don't know..."

A month later, Fritz Greene sat outside of his store, his eyes half closed. "I wish I knew how he was doing it. If I sold my goods at that price, I'd be losing money. A lot of money! I wonder where he's getting this stuff so cheap."

Pierre strolled up, and sat next to him. "How are things going?"

Fritz sighed. "Slow... I can't blame people, though. Who wouldn't like those prices? I just can't compete. Soon I'll have to close up, and find a settlement where I'm needed."

Pierre shook his head. "You're needed here. I have a feeling that something is wrong about this new store. I don't think it will last."

A young woman held open the door of Creek Valley General Store, and a tall man walked out with a huge sack over his shoulder. They smiled at the men sitting across the road, but didn't meet their eyes.

Fritz put his head in his hands. "I don't want to leave. This is my home. But I can't stay, if I don't have customers. I'll be here until my food supply runs out - since I'm not selling anything that should be quite a while. But unless things change, I won't be ordering another shipment. I'll have to move on eventually..."

Pierre rubbed his chin. "I'm glad you're going to try to hold out. We will see if Roberto Ratcliff is here to stay. My prediction is no!"

Several weeks later, Roberto Ratcliff stood in front of his store. "That's right Tony, just set the bags of flour on the shelves by the door. Steve, please put those bolts of cloth on the table beside the counter."

The two men nodded, then entered the store.

Roberto smiled. "This place is a real gem. Close enough for Rocky and the boys to get the goods here cheap, but far enough away that I don't have to worry about a nosy mountie stumbling into my business."

As if in response, a man a full head taller than anyone else in sight strode down the middle of the street. His pristine red uniform and shining black boots were a stark contrast to the dusty coveralls and worn leather boots of the other men.

Roberto's smile disappeared, and his face paled. "How in the world..."

He casually backed up, until he was up against Greene's Trading Post. He made his way into the store. "I have to hide."

The shelves and tables of the tidy little store offered little cover. "I'll check upstairs. There must be somewhere to hide in this place. I won't go back! I just need to lay low until dark, then I can get out of town."

He glanced out of the window, crouching low. He grimaced. "That mountie is right across the street. I'm sure glad his back is turned."

Roberto took the opportunity to slip upstairs, staying low and moving swiftly.

He ducked into the first room he came upon. "Ah, the bedroom! As cliche as it is, I can hide under the bed. They don't even know I'm in the building, so they're not likely to make a thorough search."

The fugitive went under feet first. "What did I kick," he thought, when his right foot met a small but solid object.

He felt around, and finally found a thick, leather-bound book. "Well what do you know, the old man keeps a journal! At least I'll have something to do while I wait for it to get dark. I just hope he doesn't go to bed early."

Roberto made himself as comfortable as possible. With his head positioned in a way that he had enough light to read, he settled in for a long wait.

He leafed through the pages. "I think I'll start with the most recent entries. Maybe there's something about me."

"Here we go... so he thinks I'm discounting everything in order to drive him out, then triple my prices. Well he's not far off, except he doesn't realize just how exclusive my supplier is," he chuckled.

He continued reading until his neck became stiff, then he lounged for a few minutes. "I can't believe this idiot actually cares about this dump. Giving credit to old trappers and miners who he knows full well will never be able to pay the bills!"

He went back to reading, this time from the beginning. The hours passed quickly, until he realized he was straining his eyes. He continued on, until he reached the point where he'd began browsing about himself.

He rubbed his eyes, and wiped some moisture from his cheeks at the same time. "Maybe I was wrong about Mr. Greene, and this place too. If I'm lucky, maybe I can find a place like this to settle down in one day."

Roberto stretched, then crawled out from under the bed. "It's dark enough for me to get going now..."

He crept down the stairs, until he stepped on a creaky board. He froze in place. "Uh oh, if he's home he must have heard that."

Everything remained silent, so he proceeded.

Before heading for the only exit, Roberto took cover behind the counter, and surveyed his surroundings. "Good, everything is still quiet. I'm not sure why Mr. Greene is away, but I'm glad. I'm not sure how I'd have been able to hide from him."

Taking a deep breath, he stealthily made his way to the door, unlocked it, and turned the knob. He opened it just far enough to slip out.

Pressed against the wall, he took two steps before he heard something that made his stomach drop.

"That's far enough, Roberto Ratcliff. You're under arrest," boomed a deep voice in the shadows.

He sighed, and put his hands up. "Oh well, at least I'll have plenty of time to decide where to look for my very own Creek Valley..."

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Cover image made in Canva Pro using their gallery

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