Angel Creek Read Online Free Page B
Author: Linda Howard
death.
He hadnât spent those ten years living in the lap of luxury. He had supported himself in various ways: as a cowhand, gambling, even as a lawman for a while. He knew ranch work inside out, and he was handy with a gun, but that alone hadnât kept him alive. A cool head, sharp eyes, and iron determination had served him well. Luke Cochran wasnât a man to mess with; he didnât let anything stand in his way when he wanted something. If the cost was highâwell, he was willing to pay it if he wanted something bad enough. There wasnât much that could stop a man who was willing to pay the price, in blood or money, to get what he wanted, and he knew it.
But with Elleryâs death the Double C had become his. It was already profitable, but he meant to make it even more so. Colorado was on the brink of statehood, which would open up a gold mine of opportunities to a man smart enough and tough enough to take them. He hadnât spent all of those ten years working at rough jobs; for the past two he had been in Denver, working with the territorial governor to secure statehood,learning how power worked, instantly seeing the vast applications of it. He had been part of the convention that had met in Denver the previous December to draft a constitution, and it was due to be voted on in July.
The value of statehood to the Double C was almost incalculable. With statehood would come settlers; with settlers would come the railroads. The railroads would make it infinitely easier for him to get his beef to market, and his profits would soar. He wanted the Double C to be the biggest and the best. It was all he had left now; the soil embraced his family in death even as it had sustained them in life. And as the Double C became richer he would work within the lines of contact he had already established in Denver. The two would feed each other: The Double C would make more money, and he would have more influence in Denver, the more influence he had in Denver, the more he could sway decisions that would affect the Double C, thus making it even richer.
He wasnât ambitious for the political aspect of it, but he needed to make certain the ranch would continue to prosper. He was willing to pay the price. The ten years out on his own had taught him some hard lessons, finishing the process of hardening that had begun in boyhood. Those lessons would come in handy now that he had an empire to build.
An empire needed heirs.
He wasnât in any real hurry to tie himself down, but he hadnât been back long before Olivia Millican, banker Wilson Millicanâs daughter, had caught his eye. She was pretty and cool and refined, socially adept and always well-mannered. She would be aperfect wife. A woman like her had to be courted, and Lucas was willing to do it. He liked her; he figured they would get along better than most. In another year or so sheâd make him a fine wife.
But this year heâd be busy putting his plans into action.
There were so many things that he wanted to do. One of them was improving the herd, bringing in new bulls, trying new crossbreeds to produce a hardier steer without losing any quality in the meat. He also wanted to try different grasses for grazing, rather than letting the herd graze on whatever happened to be growing.
And he wanted to expand. Not too much right away; he didnât want to start off by overextending himself. But after producing a better herd he wanted to produce one that was bigger as well, and that meant more land for grazing, more water. He well knew the value of a good source of water; it could mean the difference between life and death for a herd. Many a rancher had gone under when the water dried up.
Building the ranch up would give him the solid base he needed to fulfill the rest of his ambitions. It was the first step, the most necessary step.
He had a good water source now, a small, lazily moving river that wound around the ranch. It had never gone
He hadnât spent those ten years living in the lap of luxury. He had supported himself in various ways: as a cowhand, gambling, even as a lawman for a while. He knew ranch work inside out, and he was handy with a gun, but that alone hadnât kept him alive. A cool head, sharp eyes, and iron determination had served him well. Luke Cochran wasnât a man to mess with; he didnât let anything stand in his way when he wanted something. If the cost was highâwell, he was willing to pay it if he wanted something bad enough. There wasnât much that could stop a man who was willing to pay the price, in blood or money, to get what he wanted, and he knew it.
But with Elleryâs death the Double C had become his. It was already profitable, but he meant to make it even more so. Colorado was on the brink of statehood, which would open up a gold mine of opportunities to a man smart enough and tough enough to take them. He hadnât spent all of those ten years working at rough jobs; for the past two he had been in Denver, working with the territorial governor to secure statehood,learning how power worked, instantly seeing the vast applications of it. He had been part of the convention that had met in Denver the previous December to draft a constitution, and it was due to be voted on in July.
The value of statehood to the Double C was almost incalculable. With statehood would come settlers; with settlers would come the railroads. The railroads would make it infinitely easier for him to get his beef to market, and his profits would soar. He wanted the Double C to be the biggest and the best. It was all he had left now; the soil embraced his family in death even as it had sustained them in life. And as the Double C became richer he would work within the lines of contact he had already established in Denver. The two would feed each other: The Double C would make more money, and he would have more influence in Denver, the more influence he had in Denver, the more he could sway decisions that would affect the Double C, thus making it even richer.
He wasnât ambitious for the political aspect of it, but he needed to make certain the ranch would continue to prosper. He was willing to pay the price. The ten years out on his own had taught him some hard lessons, finishing the process of hardening that had begun in boyhood. Those lessons would come in handy now that he had an empire to build.
An empire needed heirs.
He wasnât in any real hurry to tie himself down, but he hadnât been back long before Olivia Millican, banker Wilson Millicanâs daughter, had caught his eye. She was pretty and cool and refined, socially adept and always well-mannered. She would be aperfect wife. A woman like her had to be courted, and Lucas was willing to do it. He liked her; he figured they would get along better than most. In another year or so sheâd make him a fine wife.
But this year heâd be busy putting his plans into action.
There were so many things that he wanted to do. One of them was improving the herd, bringing in new bulls, trying new crossbreeds to produce a hardier steer without losing any quality in the meat. He also wanted to try different grasses for grazing, rather than letting the herd graze on whatever happened to be growing.
And he wanted to expand. Not too much right away; he didnât want to start off by overextending himself. But after producing a better herd he wanted to produce one that was bigger as well, and that meant more land for grazing, more water. He well knew the value of a good source of water; it could mean the difference between life and death for a herd. Many a rancher had gone under when the water dried up.
Building the ranch up would give him the solid base he needed to fulfill the rest of his ambitions. It was the first step, the most necessary step.
He had a good water source now, a small, lazily moving river that wound around the ranch. It had never gone
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