With the Twentieth Century just underway, the establishment of the Forest Service has brought change and upheaval to the intermountain West. Cattle barons who once allowed their herds to graze unchecked across the open range are now chafing at the introduction of forest-saving restrictions. With power and fortunes at stake, secret meetings and strategy sessions are the order of the day.
Three people in particular are wrestling with the changes in the land. Ellis Burke, a cowboy turned natural resource specialist, is sent to Routt National Forest to oversee these changes. He faces massive resistance from the livestock companies--and a possible threat to his life. Cassie Waddell is the determined daughter of a cattle baron--determined to see her father suffer for what he's done to her family. She enlists former Pinkerton detective Stark Preston to help her wrest the family company from his grasp. And Preston has his own agenda: he's determined, for reasons that seem a bit too personal, to see Burke fail in his mission to save Colorado's native grasslands.
At the Publisher's request, this title is being sold without Digital Rights Management Software (DRM) applied.
With the Twentieth Century just underway, the establishment of the Forest Service has brought change and upheaval to the intermountain West. Cattle barons who once allowed their herds to graze unchecked across the open range are now chafing at the introduction of forest-saving restrictions. With power and fortunes at stake, secret meetings and strategy sessions are the order of the day.
Three people in particular are wrestling with the changes in the land. Ellis Burke, a cowboy turned natural resource specialist, is sent to Routt National Forest to oversee these changes. He faces massive resistance from the livestock companies--and a possible threat to his life. Cassie Waddell is the determined daughter of a cattle baron--determined to see her father suffer for what he's done to her family. She enlists former Pinkerton detective Stark Preston to help her wrest the family company from his grasp. And Preston has his own agenda: he's determined, for reasons that seem a bit too personal, to see Burke fail in his mission to save Colorado's native grasslands.
At the Publisher's request, this title is being sold without Digital Rights Management Software (DRM) applied.
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Overview
With the Twentieth Century just underway, the establishment of the Forest Service has brought change and upheaval to the intermountain West. Cattle barons who once allowed their herds to graze unchecked across the open range are now chafing at the introduction of forest-saving restrictions. With power and fortunes at stake, secret meetings and strategy sessions are the order of the day.
Three people in particular are wrestling with the changes in the land. Ellis Burke, a cowboy turned natural resource specialist, is sent to Routt National Forest to oversee these changes. He faces massive resistance from the livestock companies--and a possible threat to his life. Cassie Waddell is the determined daughter of a cattle baron--determined to see her father suffer for what he's done to her family. She enlists former Pinkerton detective Stark Preston to help her wrest the family company from his grasp. And Preston has his own agenda: he's determined, for reasons that seem a bit too personal, to see Burke fail in his mission to save Colorado's native grasslands.
At the Publisher's request, this title is being sold without Digital Rights Management Software (DRM) applied.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9780765388346 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Tor Publishing Group |
| Publication date: | 10/20/2015 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 305 |
| File size: | 607 KB |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
South of Eden
By Earl Murray
Tom Doherty Associates
Copyright © 2000 by Earl MurrayAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-8125-7172-1
CHAPTER 1
She rode behind the strange man on his horse, asking him questions, curious about their final destination. He said that it was hidden somewhere in the mountains along the Continental Divide. At first she was worried, but he had insisted that it was all part of a great adventure, one that she would never forget. He had reassured her, even asked her if she had changed her mind and wanted to go back. But of course she hadn't wanted to go back.
So far it had been interesting. She hadn't expected to travel out so far from any known habitation, but he had paid her a great deal of money, many times more than she could make in an entire week working at Trixie's. And the idea of sitting on a mountaintop, watching the clouds drift overhead, had been far too tempting to pass up.
The scenery had been spectacular, despite the fact that the mountains were in a period of drought and the greens weren't quite as green and the flowers weren't as thick as she would have liked. It seemed that the series of dry years had brought natural changes to the area.
Smoke rose from the side of a mountain in the distance, a series of thin plumes that sifted skyward. Her companion didn't appear to be bothered. When she asked if they were going to fight fire, if that was the big adventure, he laughed at her.
"Let it burn," he said. "There's way too damn many trees up here anyway."
Lottie Burns hadn't expected that answer, not from a man who had seemed to be so nice. The remark made her wonder now just who he was — that and the fact that he kept fondling the big hunting knife in the sheath at his side. For hunting, he had told her. They had already seen a lot of elk along the way.
They continued on, following some lost trail through what she knew to be the western Colorado wilderness, drawing ever closer to the smoke in the distance. She had only been in the area for a couple of months, having taken the train from San Francisco, searching out a new life amidst the high peaks west of Denver. Not a new life, necessarily, but the same life in a different location. She had thought of it as a new start in new surroundings, and hopefully a workable means by which to leave past problems behind. She had convinced herself that she would do very well. A lot of miners and cattlemen and railroaders looking for a good time, she had heard. And they paid well.
Trixie, the large madam with her own place in Glenwood Springs had welcomed her and had outfitted her in fine gowns and dresses. She was young and, except for the crooked knife scar above her left breast, thought quite attractive by all of her patrons. She had become a favorite of many who frequented Trixie's and the big madam had begun working her harder, giving her less time off for rest. Everyone knew that in the profession she had chosen, women came and went on an almost daily basis. Getting the most from the most popular was only good business.
Her companion had come into Trixie's the day before, his eyes searching through the women, measuring them for his wants and desires, as all the men did that came in for pleasure. He had selected her and at first she had found it difficult to look straight at him. He had such unusual eyes, gray and glassy, almost mesmerizing if you stared at him for very long. But his voice was soft, a soothing purr that relaxed her and made her feel at ease. He had made a point of telling her that he had never seen a woman who appealed to him so abruptly and so completely, a woman with whom he could relax and be himself.
Of course he would say that. At first she had thought that he wanted what all the others wanted but likely at a bargain price. But as he had continued to talk with her, there had been more flattering remarks, seemingly heartfelt compliments regarding her personality, which none of the other men had ever cared about. He had told her that Trixie's could be a cold and lonely place when all men ever came for was to use her body and move on. How many of them, he had asked, had ever showed the slightest interest in her for who she was. He would be good to her, he had promised, and give her a comfortable place to live, and he wouldn't force her into anything as a routine. This had all sounded so good to her and she had decided she would give him all the pleasure he would ever want and more, just for being so kind.
But that's where this man had seemed different, this man with the unusual eyes, the unusual glassy gray eyes. Their first night together at Trixie's had been one of sleep only. He had told her she needed to rest for their journey, not to worry about his needs for the time being. It was the first time she had ever encountered that. Perhaps the mark of a nice man, she had thought. He had told her that they were headed into a mountain paradise, and that he would show her a special place that he had come to call his very own.
He told her about a special mountainside where no one ever went, an unspoiled piece of the wilderness that held many secrets. "You'll see every flower there that you could ever imagine," he had promised. "In every color and shape and size."
Lottie Burns couldn't wait to reach this mountain paradise with all its beauty and grandeur, and she didn't give a damn that Trixie had been angered at losing her. During the train ride north from Glenwood Springs toward the Eden Valley he had told her many times that she would be far better off with him than she had been, being used for nothing more than profit at the hands of the big madam.
"The fire won't burn the paradise you talked about, will it?" she asked.
"No, not my paradise," he replied. "It will create a new paradise."
"How do you know that?"
"Take my word for it."
They drew ever closer to the fire, him remaining stoically silent. Nothing she said now could bring a single word from him. They stopped briefly to water his horse and to have something to eat. She approached him, lowering the front of her gown even more than the revealing cut already allowed.
"Maybe you would like to sample some of what you've invested in now," she suggested. She hoped it would make him happy, ease the tension that seemed to be building within him. But he pushed her away, saying, "We'll do things my way, when I say. Don't ever do that again."
Her hurt and surprise quickly turned to concern. "Take me back, please," she said. "I'll gladly refund your money."
"You can walk back, if you'd like."
Frowning, she looked in all directions. Surrounded by mountains, the sun falling ever closer to the horizon, she knew that she had absolutely no chance of finding her way out.
"Well, what do you want to do?" he asked.
"I'll go with you, I guess. But I don't understand you."
"Don't worry about understanding me," he said. "Just do as you're told."
* * *
Riding slowly in the early twilight, they arrived at the open meadow he had told her about. She wanted to stop and walk through the flowers, a carpet of reds and yellows and blues. She wanted to touch something soft and pretty, to make herself feel better. He told her they wouldn't be stopping, but continuing on instead to his "real paradise."
She had to wonder at his idea of paradise, as they had entered a burn area from some bygone year, where once-huge pines had been badly scarred, left as blackened trunks with sharp and shortened limbs, looking like an endless mass of giant headless scarecrows.
In the distance the new fire burned brightly, the flames licking up into the approaching darkness. He pointed into the distance and said something about rain likely coming and ending the fire before it could do its rightful duty. He said it would be a long rain, that it was too dry for something that would stay and soak the land. Just enough to get everyone's hopes up.
But she didn't care what he was saying, and was, in fact, not even listening. The burned and jagged trees were decorated with women's clothes and the ground around her looked disturbed by digging.
"We're here, now. We've arrived in paradise. Do you like it?"
She didn't answer and he urged the horse forward. The shadows were growing heavier and the twilight deeper, and she continued to say nothing. Instead, she stared wide-eyed into a field of bones and skulls with huge antlers rising, twisted and jagged into the waning light, like so many cornstalks after a howling wind.
"Aren't you even going to ask about this place?" he said. "Don't you want to know what you're seeing?" Lottie's stomach began to knot.
"No," she said. "I don't want to know."
"They're elk skeletons," he told her. "It's a burying ground for old bulls. When they know the end is near, they come up here and just lay down and die."
"Why are we here?" she asked. She trembled slightly, trying to hide it from him.
"I told you, it's my special paradise. Here, I'll show you where the last bull that died is buried."
"I don't want to see it."
"But I insist."
He dismounted and pulled her down after him.
"What's the matter, Lottie? You're shaking." He stared at her with expressionless eyes.
"Please, can we go back?"
He ignored her and forced her to a spot where a huge bull elk lay in death. It smelled badly. It had been only partially buried, its head and back exposed, along with the ribs on both sides, the front legs spread out in front as if it were trying to climb out of the hole. Its massive antlers rose skyward and strings of long blond hair were tied to the upper tines.
She realized that the animal was not fully decomposed, but had fragments of hide and hair still attached to the bones.
"What do you think?" he asked.
She noticed something protruding from the ground, sticking up at an awkward angle from between two of the elk's ribs. At first she thought it was a small chunk of tree limb with short, oddly curled little branches at the end. In the shadows it was difficult to see. She leaned forward, then jerked back with a start, her hand over her mouth.
A skeletal face looked out at her from between the ribs. The chunk of tree limb was really a human arm, the oddly curled little branches, fingers.
"Her name was Jenny," the strange-eyed man said.
Lottie Burns turned to run, but he had anticipated her reaction and grabbed her quickly by the arm.
"It's all right to scream," he said. "No one can hear you way up here."
CHAPTER 2The late-evening forest rested, recovering from the flames. The saving rain had passed and the clouds had blown into twisted streaks of scarlet across the twilight sky. Below, lodgepole pines, like swaying soldiers in close formation, moaned in the wind, and the smell of drowned fires hung in the air like a rank fog.
Ellis Burke drove his newly purchased 1905 Buick up a remote and rugged wagon road, made treacherous by the previous night's downpour. He struggled to keep control with each uneven turn of the wheel, wondering how he had gotten himself so lost. He had accepted a position as a roving forest ranger in the newly established Routt National Forest, Eden District, and had sought help in the local town of Eden in finding a cabin that was to be his headquarters. He had been directed by Lee Miller, the town banker, to head south of town and take the first road to the west, past the local landmark known as the Devil's Grave, and travel up the creek to a line cabin, where he would be welcome to settle in for his work.
He had anticipated an easier time for himself and his new automobile, a grand machine, the class of its kind, with front-and backseats and a fold-down top for inclement weather. It was supposed to be a short drive along a gentle grade, Miller had said. Gentle compared to what? He could easily have rented a horse and saved his new car from the rigors of the northwestern Colorado backcountry.
The locals had been expecting him, the townspeople and the ranchers in the area. Many had stopped their horses and carriages in the late afternoon as he entered the proud town of Eden, born during the early days of the range-cattle industry, now thirty years past. They seemed to know all about him already. He had seen the newspaper article himself, while eating dinner in the town's hotel restaurant. GOVERNMENT WON'T GO AWAY, the Eden Star headline had read, subtitled Eden and Surrounds Continue to Be Target of Changes, New Ranger to Arrive, followed by his picture, taken in the brown and green of his forest service uniform.
The article had described how Burke would be replacing Mark Jones, the first district manager in the area. Jones had worked the area the previous summer, mapping different types of trees and grasslands within the forest reserves. Jones was said to have tired of the trying position and moved on, but to where no one knew. Burke would replace him and continue the job of surveying forest reserves to be included in a long-range management plan for the benefit of the resource. He would also be the acting district manager until a new one was selected.
Burke's main responsibility would be to assess the amount of grazing reserves so that a solid grazing conservation plan could be implemented. The plan would restrict the numbers of livestock allowed to graze within the boundaries of each reserve. To support the program and allow for sustained use of public grazing lands, allotment fees would be collected on a regular basis.
It was no secret that traditional ranching practices would soon be a thing of the past. Burke had already read comments by irritated stockmen in the Denver papers, expressing their tensions and worries regarding grazing rights on the newly established national forests. They had been pasturing their livestock on public lands since shortly after the Civil War and wanted no changes. It appeared that each and every ranger assigned to the various districts along the West Coast and throughout the Rocky Mountain West was definitely not welcome.
* * *
Burke had been surprised his first day in Eden. Lee Miller had been more than cordial, meeting him in the street and offering to provide him with a special account, should he decide to deposit money with him. Miller had introduced him to the town's postmaster, where Burke had sealed some letters he had written to his superiors in Denver and Washington, D.C. during dinner. He had wanted everyone to know where he was and his immediate plans.
Those who appeared to care less about his arrival merely went their own way and made no comments to him about being in a position to turn their world upside down. The hotel personnel had been most cordial, as had the dinner crowd. He had even detected a smile or two from among the local women. Perhaps they had found him attractive in the new clothing style he had brought out from the Ivy League, his baggy trousers with a short suit coat, complete with a fashionable brown derby, sitting comfortably in his new Buick, the first automobile to arrive in this remote mountain town.
He had named the Buick Emily, after his deceased sister. She had been a year younger than him and had died of tuberculosis at the age of five. In those early years, she had been his best friend and they had shared a lot together. He would always miss her.
Now he concentrated on what lay ahead. As nightfall settled, the rising full moon appeared veiled and murky in the smoke-laden darkness. Burke grew ever more frustrated as the grade grew steeper and more treacherous. Nervous coyotes yapped from a nearby hilltop and from the high rocks above came the screaming yowl of a mountain cat.
How much farther could it possibly be? He was certain he had heard the directions right. But the way was far too difficult and the muddy slopes too trying.
He decided to walk the remaining distance. He would venture on for a short distance and should no cabin appear, return to his Buick and spend the night, or make his way back down the mountain, an option he wanted to avoid if at all possible. The shadows held too many traps and surprises.
He parked at a ninety-degree angle to the hill, the front tires wedged against clumps of sagebrush. Satisfied there would be no downhill movement, he pulled a lantern from the floorboards on the passenger's side and struck a match to the wick. It flared to life, throwing shadows that flickered across the grass and sagebrush. He patted Emily's shiny hood and started up the hill, facing into the mountain wind, which now cried in the night like a lost soul.
How much farther was this place? He was beginning to wonder where he was, and whether he would even find the cabin he belonged in.
* * *
Burke made his way up a small hill and noticed a campfire burning brightly along the trail. Four riders rode out of the shadows, each one holding a lantern. They were dressed in dirty cotton shirts, heavy working chaps, and low-crowned working hats. Each one was armed with a revolver.
The leader urged his horse a few steps forward.
"Been expecting you," he said to Burke with a small grin. "You're a little late."
"Who are you?" Burke asked.
"You're on Eden ranch proper "You're on Eden ranch property. We don't take kindly to trespassers."
"I was led to believe I was welcome."
"You were led wrong."
The leader's face held a muscled toughness that set off strangely vacant eyes like dark glass embedded in leather.
"So why did you think you could drive that pile of metal crap up here?" he asked.
"I told you, I was directed to this gulch. There's supposed to be a cabin up here I can use as my headquarters."
Glass Eyes said, "There's no cabin up here, my boy." He turned his horse and motioned to one of the others, a young blond cowboy who rode over and took Glass Eyes's lantern. Saying nothing, Glass Eyes quickly untied a rope from his saddle and threw a lariat over Burke's head and shoulders.
Before could react, Burke found himself facedown, bouncing along the rough ground. He was immediately covered with grass and mud, his coat and trousers ruined. His face stung with each whip of sagebrush and he bit his tongue as his chin bounced into his chest. He tried to pull himself up with the rope but Glass Eyes kept turning his horse, causing him to roll over and over.
Glass Eyes finally reined his horse and Burke struggled to his feet, breathing heavily, clawing at the rope that bound him.
"Just settle yourself down," Glass Eyes told Burke. "We're going to have a little meeting."
(Continues...)
Excerpted from South of Eden by Earl Murray. Copyright © 2000 by Earl Murray. Excerpted by permission of Tom Doherty Associates.
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