Heart's Desire

Emerson Hough

Description

This classic Western from renowned writer Emerson Hough is set in a desolate cow town in southern New Mexico. Protagonist Dan Anderson is a young attorney who has come West to lick his wounds in the aftermath of a failed courtship. Will the stark beauty of the landscape and the camaraderie of a few fellow bachelors help him get back on track?

Sujets

• Westerns
• Western (genre)
• Western

Informations

• Publié par: The Floating Press
• Date de parution: 01 décembre 2016
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781776673230
• Langue: English

Extrait

HEART'S DESIRE
* * *
EMERSON HOUGH
 
*
Heart's Desire First published in 1905 Epub ISBN 978-1-77667-323-0 Also available: PDF ISBN 978-1-77667-324-7 © 2015 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
*
Chapter I - The Land of Heart's Desire Chapter II - The Dinner at Heart's Desire Chapter III - Transgression at Heart's Desire Chapter IV - The Law at Heart's Desire Chapter V - Eden at Heart's Desire Chapter VI - Eve at Heart's Desire Chapter VII - Temptation at Heart's Desire Chapter VIII - The Corporation at Heart's Desire Chapter IX - Civilization at Heart's Desire Chapter X - Art at Heart's Desire Chapter XI - Opera at Heart's Desire Chapter XII - The Price of Heart's Desire Chapter XIII - Business at Heart's Desire Chapter XIV - The Ground Floor at Heart's Desire Chapter XV - Science at Heart's Desire Chapter XVI - The Partition of Hearts Desire Chapter XVII - Treason at Heart's Desire Chapter XVIII - The Meeting at Heart's Desire Chapter XIX - Commerce at Heart's Desire Chapter XX - Medicine at Heart's Desire Chapter XXI - Justice at Heart's Desire Chapter XXII - Adventure at Heart's Desire Chapter XXIII - Philosophy at Heart's Desire Chapter XXIV - The Conspiracy at Heart's Desire Chapter XXV - Romance at Heart's Desire Chapter XXVI - The Girl at Heart's Desire
Chapter I - The Land of Heart's Desire
*
This Being in Part the Story of Curly, the Can of Oysters, and theGirl from Kansas
"It looks a long ways acrost from here to the States," said Curly, aswe pulled up our horses at the top of the Capitan divide. We gazed outover a vast, rolling sea of red-brown earth which stretched far beyondand below the nearer foothills, black with their growth of stuntedpines. This was a favorite pausing place of all travellers between thecounty-seat and Heart's Desire; partly because it was a summit reachedonly after a long climb from either side of the divide; partly,perhaps, because it was a notable view-point in a land full of nobleviews. Again, it may have been a customary tarrying point because ofsome vague feeling shared by most travellers who crossed thistrail,—the same feeling which made Curly, hardened citizen as he wasof the land west of the Pecos, turn a speculative eye eastward acrossthe plains. We could not see even so far as the Pecos, though itseemed from our lofty situation that we looked quite to the ultimate,searching the utter ends of all the earth.
"Yours is up that-a-way;" Curly pointed to the northeast. "Mine wasthat-a-way." He shifted his leg in the saddle as he turned to theright and swept a comprehensive hand toward the east, meaning perhapsTexas, perhaps a series of wild frontiers west of the Lone Star state.I noticed the nice distinction in Curly's tenses. He knew the man morerecently arrived west of the Pecos, possibly later to prove abackslider. As for himself, Curly knew that he would never return tohis wild East; yet it may have been that he had just a touch of thehome feeling which is so hard to lose, even in a homeless country, aman's country pure and simple, as was surely this which now stretchedwide about us. Somewhere off to the east, miles and miles beyond thered sea of sand and grama grass, lay Home.
"And yet," said Curly, taking up in speech my unspoken thought, "youcan't see even halfway to Vegas up there." No. It was a long twohundred miles to Las Vegas, long indeed in a freighting wagon, and longenough even in the saddle and upon as good a horse as each of us nowbestrode. I nodded. "And it's some more'n two whoops and a holler tomy ole place," said he. Curly remained indefinite; for, thoughpresently he hummed something about the sun and its brightness in hisold Kentucky home, he followed it soon thereafter with musical allusionto the Suwanee River. One might have guessed either Kentucky orGeorgia in regard to Curly, even had one not suspected Texas from thelook of his saddle cinches.
It was the day before Christmas. Yet there was little winter in thissweet, thin air up on the Capitan divide. Off to the left the PatosMountains showed patches of snow, and the top of Carrizo was yetwhiter, and even a portion of the highest peak of the Capitans carrieda blanket of white; but all the lower levels were red-brown, calm,complete, unchanging, like the whole aspect of this far-away andfinished country, whereto had come, long ago, many Spaniards in searchof wealth and dreams; and more recently certain Anglo-Saxons, alsodreaming, who sought in a stolen hiatus of the continental conquestnothing of more value than a deep and sweet oblivion.
It was a Christmas-tide different enough from that of the States towardwhich Curly pointed. We looked eastward, looked again, turned back forone last look before we tightened the cinches and started down thewinding trail which led through the foothills along the flank of thePatos Mountains, and so at last into the town of Heart's Desire.
"Lord!" said Curly, reminiscently, and quite without connection withany thought which had been uttered. "Say, it was fine, wasn't it,Christmas? We allus had firecrackers then. And eat! Why, man!" Thisallusion to the firecrackers would have determined that Curly had comefrom the South, which alone has a midwinter Fourth of July, possiblybecause the populace is not content with only one annual smell ofgunpowder. "We had trees where I came from," said I. "And eat! Yes,man!"
"Some different here now, ain't it?" said Curly, grinning; and Igrinned in reply with what fortitude I could muster. Down in Heart'sDesire there was a little, a very little cabin, with a bunk, a fewblankets, a small table, and a box nailed against the wall for acupboard. I knew what was in the box, and what was not in it, and I soadvised my friend as we slipped down off the bald summit of theCapitans and came into the shelter of the short, black pinons. Curlyrode on for a little while before he made answer.
"Why," said he, at length, "ain't you heard? You're in with our rodeoon Christmas dinner. McKinney, and Tom Osby, and Dan Anderson, theother lawyer, and me,—we're going to have Christmas dinner atAndersen's 'dobe in town to-morrer. You're in. You mayn't like it.Don't you mind. The directions says to take it, and you take it. It'sgoin' to be one of the largest events ever knowed in this heresettlement. Of course, there's goin' to be some canned things, andsome sardines, and some everidge liquids. You guess what besides that."
I told him I couldn't guess.
"Shore you couldn't," said Curly, dangling his bridle from the littlefinger of his left hand as he searched in his pocket for a match. Hehad rolled a cigarette with one hand, and now he called it a cigarrillo . These facts alone would have convicted him of comingfrom somewhere near the Rio Grande.
"Shore you couldn't," repeated Curly, after he had his bit of brownpaper going. "I reckon not in a hundred years. Champagne! Wholequart! Yes, sir. Cost eighteen dollars. Mac, he got it. BillyHudgens had just this one bottle in the shop, left over from the timethe surveyors come over here and we thought there was goin' to be arailroad, which there wasn't. But Lord! that ain't all. It ain't thebeginnin'. You guess again. No, I reckon you couldn't," said he,scornfully. "You couldn't in your whole life guess what next. We gota cake !"
"Go on, Curly," said I, scoffingly; for I knew that the possibilitiesof Heart's Desire did not in the least include anything resemblingcake. Any of the boys could fry bacon or build a section of bread in aDutch oven—they had to know how to do that or starve. But as to cake,there was none could compass it. And I knew there was not a woman inall Heart's Desire.
Curly enjoyed his advantage for a few moments as we wound on down thetrail among the pinons. "Heap o' things happened since you went downto tend co'te," said he. "You likely didn't hear of the new familymoved in last week. Come from Kansas."
"Then there's a girl," said I; for I was far Westerner enough to knowthat all the girls ever seen west of the Pecos came from Kansas, thesame as all the baled hay and all the fresh butter. Potatoes came fromIowa; but butter, hay, and girls came from Kansas. I asked Curly ifthe head of the new family came from Leavenworth.
"'Course he did," said Curly. "And I'll bet a steer he'll bepostmaster or somethin' in a few brief moments." This in reference toanother well-known fact in natural history as observed west of thePecos; for it was matter of common knowledge among all Western men thatthe town of Leavenworth furnished early office-holders for every newcommunity from the Missouri to the Pacific.
Curly continued; "This feller'll do well here, I reckon, though justnow he's broke a-plenty. But what was he goin' to do? His teambreaks down and he can't get no further. Looks like he'd just have tostop and be postmaster or somethin' for us here for a while. Can't beJustice of the Peace; another Kansas man's got that. As to them twogirls—man! The camp's got on its best clothes right this instant,don't you neglect to think. Both good lookers. Youngest's a peach.I'm goin' to marry her ." Curly turned aggressively in his saddleand looked me squarely in the eye, his hat pushed back from his tightlycurling red hair.
"That's all right, Curly," said I, mildly. "You have my consent. Haveyou asked the girl about it yet?"
"Ain't had time yet," said he. "But you watch me."
"What's the name of the family?" I asked as we rode along together.