Don Helling is an observer of human experiences. Translating these observations to the printed page, he dramatically involves the reader with vivid descriptions and emotional feeling. He feels writing is an opportunity to convey warm adventures of the spirit.
Destiny depicts a heart-tugging story of the Old West. Hank Sloan follows his uncle's dream and heads west. When he steps off the train, everyone's life is changed. His romance with the newspaper man's daughter is compromised, by defending her father's supposed killer. He is envisioned by the townspeople as a villain, but solving the mystery reveals the truth. Destiny is the first in a series of recent pursuits by this emerging author, with work progressing rapidly on a follow-up.
Destiny A Novel by Don Helling
The train slowly rolled to a stop in front of the station with the bell ringing. A huge cloud of steam burst from the locomotive, and two shrill whistles echoed off the hills. Anticipation filled the air as the small crowd stirred with excitement, pushing to see who had come to town. Hank Sloan, the only passenger stepped off the train as the depot agent reached to shake hands. The newcomer from back East carried an aura of distinction, looking more like a businessman than a cowboy. "Howdy, Mister," the station master said. "Welcome to Destiny." "Good afternoon." Hank glanced around at the countryside. He noticed a sleepy little village, peacefully set in the Singing River Valley. "What kind of a town is this?" "It's a cow town. Why you askin'? You fixin' to stay or somethin’?" the agent asked with wide-eyed surprise. "Is it a good place to live?" "Oh, ah reckon so. Cattle drives come stormin’ through here ‘bout ever’ few days. Drovers go shootin' up the place a little, that's all. It ain't much a place ta raise a family, but we got us lots ... a excitement." The agent sauntered along with a prideful happy go lucky swagger. "Ya know, our newspaper man was killed just last week. You a gamblin’ man? You look like a gamblin’ man ta me." He jabbered away like a magpie. "No, I'm just looking things over. My ticket is to Denver, but I thought I'd stop and see what goes on around here. I have a trunk in the baggage car and they're unloading it now." "Good gravy, man," the freight man shouted, as he struggled with the heavy trunk. "What's ya got in this here trunk, rocks? I ain't never seen no trunk that heavy." "Books," Hank answered. "Books! Kin ya read all a them thar books?" "Well, I sure hope so." "What's ya need so gol darn many books fer anyhow? They ain't nobody around here kin read all that good." "Maybe they ought to be learning." "Mister, you a teacher or somethin'?" The freight clerk cocked his head and squinted. "We already got us a teacher." "No, I just like books. That's all." "Ya sure must like um real good all right. Where ya want these here books anyhow?" "Just leave them on the dock, I'll send someone for them later. Can you direct me to the livery stable? I'd like to rent a horse and take a look around." "Right down the street on yer left." The freight man pointed. "Jake Harris will fix ya up." Hank spotted the High Plains Hotel across the railroad tracks. He walked with uneven steps, limping slightly from a war injury. The heels of his boots echoed with hollow thuds against the boardwalk. He was tall and lanky, twenty-nine years old with heavy black hair. The hotel desk clerk greeted him with a warm smile as he stepped inside. "Can I help you sir?" The clerk offered. "I need a room please," the young traveler requested. "Very good, sir. Do you have any luggage?" "I have a big trunk at the train station." "Would you like me to send someone to fetch it for you?" "It's a pretty big trunk. Are you sure you can handle it?" "Oh yeah." The clerk assured. "We have a great big guy around here. I reckon he can take care of it without any trouble. I'll get Tiny to go after it for you." "Okay then, have him put it in my room." Hank signed the register and headed for the livery stable. After looking over the town, he returned to his room and found the trunk had been delivered. Staring at the heavy container, he wondered what the trunk actually held. At the reading of the will in St. Louis, Uncle Gilbert's attorney announced that he was to inherit $100, a train ticket to Denver and the contents of this trunk. There hadn't been time to examine the contents, but he did open the lid and found it to be mostly books of unknown titles. Puzzled by his uncle's intentions, and wondering why he was sent out West, he took the letter out of his pocket and began to read it again.
St. Louis, Missouri September 3, 1874
Dear Henry, Americans have always looked west when they needed direction and opportunity. I know the war has left you with deep scars, but here is your opportunity to head west and broaden your horizons. Go out there and start over, help someone else, find a wife and make a home. Maybe this will help you get underway. There is a lot of knowledge in this trunk. Use it wisely.
God bless you, Uncle Gilbert
PS: Galatians 5:13b -- by love serve one another.
The letter seemed to hold more questions than answers. Hank reasoned that Uncle Gilbert had a special message for him in the trunk, but what was it? What did he mean by, help someone else? Help someone else what? He carefully opened the lid and examined the details of his mysterious inheritance. There was every kind of book on all sorts of subjects, history, government, law, medicine, architecture, ethics and Christianity. If his uncle was trying to leave him a message with these books, it wasn't clear. The final book was his uncle's well-worn Bible. Three other items remained in the trunk. A beautiful gold watch and chain with the letters G.R.T. intricately embossed on the cover, two dozen file folders with letters, notes and papers of questionable origin, and the last object in the trunk was a handgun with holster. As he continued to try and figure out what his uncle had given him, there was a knock at the door. A young woman appeared dressed in jeans, shirt and hat, with ink smudges on her hands and cheek. "Hello. My name is Savanna Langdon. Folks around here usually just call me Midge. I'm a reporter for the Prairie Communicator and I'd like to interview you for next week's paper." "Why do you want to interview me? I'm nobody, and no one knows me." "Well, you're new in town and everyone's interested in new people who come to Destiny."
About Don Helling
A student of history and growing up on a ranch in Colorado, Don writes from experiences, tales and adventures. He now resides in Alaska, with his wife and teenage daughter. Destiny affords him the opportunity to expand on the escapades of an early pioneer family.
Don is interested in anything technical. His hobbies are amateur radio and computers. Using voice activation to control the computer, he brings history into the modern age, elaborating on stories told to him at his grandfather's knee.
Don Helling is an observer of human experiences. Translating these observations to the printed page, he dramatically involves the reader with vivid descriptions and emotional feeling. He feels writing is an opportunity to convey warm adventures of the spirit. 
A student of history and growing up on a ranch in Colorado, Don writes from experiences, tales and adventures. He now resides in Alaska, with his wife and teenage daughter. Destiny affords him the opportunity to expand on the escapades of an early pioneer family.