by Patti Sherry-Crews
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| Browns Park, a Haven for Horse Thieves, Cattle Rustlers, and Outlaws |
While writing my first historical western romance, Margarita and the Hired Gun, I researched the outlaw hideouts strung out along the outlaw trail—places a fleeing gang could get fresh horses, stock up on ammunition, connect with fellow gang members, and in general cool their heels without fear of the law. Hole in the Wall and Robbers Roost instantly grabbed my fancy: secret havens, never once breached by the law. Self-contained outlaw towns.
And then there is Browns Park. Browns Park or Browns Hole is an isolated mountain valley following the Green River through Colorado and Utah. It’s almost inaccessible terrain with its scattered population of independent ranchers who were sympathetic to the likes of Butch Cassidy and his sort, made it an ideal retreat.
Even today it isn’t an easy jaunt. A sign at the entrance to the park warns visitors:
“Due to the remote nature of the Refuge, visitors are encouraged to bring extra supplies including water, food, and fuel in case of emergency. Cell phone coverage is sporadic at best in this area and should not be relied upon in times of emergency. If you are planning on being in this area for an extended time, Refuge staff suggest notifying a friend or family member of your location in case you need to be contacted in an emergency.”
I tended to glance over this “hideout” while taking notes. Nothing secret about the place. Just a bunch of mundane cattle ranches. But then while doing a series of posts about the women of the Wild Bunch, I learned about the Bassett sisters, Ann and Josie, and the other colorful inhabitants of Browns Park. Here's a quick thumb nail sketch of a few of those folks.
One enterprising early settler was John Jarvie, a Scottish immigrant. In 1880, he set up camp at a crossing used by fur trappers, Native Americans, and cattlemen. Taking advantage of the traffic, Jarvie established a store, a post office, and a ferry. Today, Jarvie’s ranch is a historical site.
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| John Jarvie |
John Jarvie was a beloved character who met an unfortunate end. He offered his hospitality to two strangers who repaid him by forcing him to open his safe. After taking anything of value, they shot and killed Jarvie. The pair got away and when their trail grew cold, the search was called off. But Jarvie's son, Jimmy, wouldn't let it go and spent a year tracking down the killers. Unfortunately, when he did manage to find them, he fell out of a second story window and died instantly.
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| John Jarvie Historical Ranch (photo credit Bureau of Land Managment) |
Ann Bassett, known as Queen Ann, was the first white person born in Browns Park to homesteaders, Herb and Elizabeth Bassett. It is said her mother gets credit from changing the name from Browns Hole to Browns Park when upon first setting eyes on the spot declared it too beautiful to be called a hole. Sometimes there are people who step out of the pages of history in a spectacular, larger than life way, and Ann Bassett is one of these characters. Her parents raised their daughters to be skilled at all the things including riding and shooting. Both Ann and her sister, Josie, were great beauties who had many lovers especially of the outlaw variety. Incongruous in this rough and rugged setting, the girls were well-read and refined after receiving a boarding school education.
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| Ann Bassett |
You can read a more detailed account of Queen Ann and her cattle rustling, lover-taking, defeater of millionaire cattle baron ways in my series Bad Girls, Bad Girls.
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| The Bassett Ranch |
Ned Huddleston was born into slavery in 1849. During the Civil War, Ned served as a cook for the Confederates. After Emancipation, he headed west to Texas and Mexico traveling as a rodeo clown and bronco buster. But it wasn’t long before he turned to gambling and cattle rustling. At one point he rode with an outlaw gang, which is probably how he ended up in Browns Park.
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| Isom Dart |
It was here that Ned decided to settle down and go straight. He changed his name to Isom Dart and bought a ranch, becoming a friend of the Bassett family. Things were looking sweet for Isom until he got caught up in the Browns Park Range War where the large cattle barons, tired of the cattle rustling behavior of the smaller homesteads, decided to rid themselves of their troublesome neighbors and grab their land in the bargain. Isom, along with other small ranchers in the valley, got a note inviting them to leave, or else. Isom chose the or-else-option.
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| Isom Dart's Cabin |
The notorious Tom Horn, hired by the Two Bar Ranch owner, shot Isom in cold blood as he exited his cabin. He was 51. It was Dart’s murder along with the murder of her fiance, Matt Rash, that sent Ann Bassett on a course of revenge against cattle baron, Ora Haley, that lasted for years and eventually saw her victorious.
When I started to write a new book for the Prairie Rose Publication's series Women of Destiny celebrating strong women, I had to look no further than Browns Park for inspiration. My thanks to Queen Ann, Isom Dart and all the other folks of Browns Park who lived extraordinary lives and left their tales behind to fuel a humble author's imagination.
His Unexpected Companion is set for release in July 2020. I'm sharing an unofficial blurb and the first chapter, which is from my own unedited copy. Any mistakes or typos blame me, not the editors at Prairie Rose Publications.
Unofficial Blurb:
Kit Traver, tired of
practicing law in a congested city out east with its strict social structure,
longs for the freeing air of his native Colorado. Traveling back home on
horseback, camping out, just man and nature, will be the healing journey he
needs. And when he gets home, there is a girl he intends to marry—judging by
their correspondence she’s everything he wants.
When Kit and Olivia
first meet in Denver it's not the best first impression. But as they find they
are traveling in the same direction on the trail to their respective homes,
it’s only natural they travel together—it’s obvious that woman needs his protection, if only from herself. Except when they get home she finds home is changed, while he finds home the same but he’s changed. Can they find a new sense of home
together? First Kit has to find the mysterious Olivia.
First chapter:
Chapter 1
Like a warm welcome from
an old friend. Presented on a plate of the finest bone china, and floating on a
sea of pristine, white linen, the offering seemed to speak to him, saying, All
yours. I’m here for you and you are here for me. This moment is ours. His
tongue darted in and out of his mouth, moistening his lips. The impulse to
lunge forward and pounce, held in check by the desire to draw out and savor the
pleasure for as long as possible.
The thick slice of ham,
glistening in rich brown gravy, had his mouth watering in anticipation of the
sweet, salty, smoky goodness. Still steaming roast potatoes, crispy skins
lightly seasoned with salt and pepper. Emerald green peas in a neat pile on the
side. Heavy, scrolled silverware reflected the light from the crystal
chandelier hanging above the table. A feast fit for a man of his station.
Kit Traver looked down
at the meal before him with reverence. He studied it until the image planted in
his brain, taking in a deep breath through widened nostrils to pair the scents
with the vision. If he were an artist, he’d immortalize it in oil paints.
“You gonna eat that or
are you fixing to write a tribute to it?” Smoothing down his mustache with one
hand, Henry grinned at him from across the table.
Kit glanced up, a
contented smile lifting the corners of his mouth. “Well, I’m sitting here
thinking two things. First off, this is the last full dinner I’ll get in days.
Second, I was thinking that even the food tastes and smells better in Colorado.
It must be the fresh air.”
“I don’t envy you for
the trip you have ahead of you, my friend. It will be beef jerky and hard tack
from now on.”
He leaned forward barely
able to control his excitement. “Oh, I’m looking forward to it! I’m itching to
get back in the saddle—”
“Saddle sores.”
Kit looked up to the
ceiling. “Sleeping under the stars—”
“On the cold, hard
ground.”
“Besides it won’t be
jerky and hardtack, I can hunt for my food and have some fine meals out in the
wilderness as man is intended.”
“Will you be using
bullets or do you think your hopes and dreams will be enough to persuade the
critters to jump on your plate?”
“So cynical, Henry. You
can’t imagine how hemmed in I got to feeling in that city. Boston. You don’t know
how lucky you are to be so close to wide open spaces free of human congestion.
A man can get out there in nature and really think. Get to know himself.”
“I’m happy here in
Denver. I do get out in the backwoods occasionally, which is just about right.
So, are you telling me you’re back to stay?”
Kit had to suppress the
mirth bubbling up inside him, but his traitor lips quivered into a grin. “I am.
Can I let you in on a little secret?”
“Sure.”
He paused long enough to
get his friend’s full attention. “I’m going to get married and settle down back
home.”
Henry perked up. “When’s
the wedding?”
“I don’t know. I have to
ask the lady first.”
Henry relaxed back into
his seat. “Another Kit plan based on idealistic notions. Do you know which lady
you plan to propose to?”
“Emily Partridge.”
Disappointment flickered
across Henry’s face, but he staunched it so quickly, Kit chose to believe he’s
misread his friend.
Henry scratched behind
his ear and glanced at the table. “When did this happen? Last I heard from you,
you had just got yourself engaged in Boston.”
Kit waved a hand in
front of him, the episode a distant memory to him now. “I was, but by mutual
agreement we decided to end things. Millicent was too...opinionated. Now, I
don’t mind a lady speaking her mind, but Millicent made a competition out of
it, and when the opinion expressed rarely agrees with your own….” He picked up
the cut glass goblet and swallowed a sip of wine. “Oh, that’s divine.”
“How does Emily come
into this? When’s the last time you saw her?”
“I haven’t seen her in a
couple of years. But what happened is, I was kind of low after parting ways
with Millicent, and Emily and I have always corresponded—she is a dear friend
of my little sister. When I told her what happened with Millicent she expressed
her sympathy and worried about me, so we wrote to each other more often.
Gradually, I discovered I felt more than a passing affection for her. I would
go so far as to say we have an understanding. But the engagement isn’t official
yet.”
Henry’s toffee brown
eyes registered concern. “Don’t do anything rash, Kit. Exchanging letters with
someone isn’t the same as seeing them in person and holding a real discourse.”
“But, I can tell by her
writing she’s everything I want in a wife. She’s kind and gentle. She seems to
know just what to say. I appreciate a person who puts thought into their words
before speaking. She’s a very...” He thought about her for a moment, sights on
the plaster scroll-work in the ceiling. “She’s a very measured young lady.”
“Well, yes, she’s a nice
enough girl, but I have to say this as your friend and don’t take offense.”
Kit sat back and folded
his arms across his chest. “What?”
“You can be fickle where
the fairer sex is concerned. I wish you’d pick one girl and stick with her.”
“Says the other bachelor
at the table.”
“I don’t plan on being a
bachelor forever, but when I meet the right girl I’ll….” Henry’s eyes lit up
and his jaw slackened like the incarnation of his every hope and dream had just
stepped into the room wrapped in ribbon and carrying a birthday cake.
Kit turned in his seat
to see what had caused such a reaction.
A vision. A woman with
hair the color of mahogany piled in curls on top of her head and large eyes set
in an intelligent face, where all features rested in perfect proportion. Her
creamy skin had a hint of rose across the cheeks. Her dress was almost the same
shade of brown as her hair, only iridescent, with a silver panel on the bodice
filled with pink seed beads and narrow ribbons of light green and pink. She
stood in the doorway, looking from side to side.
“That’s her. That’s the
woman I’m going to marry,” said Henry, his Adam’s apple rising and falling
above his stiff collar.
“Hang on, sport. She’s
probably looking for her husband. A lady wouldn’t be here on her own.”
Just then a waiter
approached the woman and said something in a low whisper. Kit turned back
around.
“...Beautiful,” muttered
Henry.
The lady’s voice carried
sure and clear across the room. “No, I will not sit in the lounge until my
husband gets here. As I am not married, that wait could put me well beyond any
dinner time in the foreseeable future.”
Kit turned sideways and
cocked an ear in the direction of this unseemly display.
“Madame, I’m sorry we
cannot serve unaccompanied ladies in the restaurant. Perhaps you’d like dinner
sent up to your room?” said the waiter, still speaking in a quiet voice.
“I don’t think I would
like that. Do you know how long the evening can be when you’re trapped in a
room? Hmmm? Thought not. No, I’m going to sit at a table right here.”
The waiter bent and said
something so low, Kit couldn’t hear him. Henry was staring, his face frozen.
“I have one particular
talent. Do you want to know what that is?” She continued to the waiter, her
voice louder now.
Kit and Henry exchanged
wide-eyed looks. Faces turned as other diners honed in on the conversation
taking place. And though he hadn’t been aware of it until it's deafening
silence, the chatter of silverware on bone china ceased. The waiter must have
asked her what her one talent was because she answered with her voice very loud
now.
“I can shout longer and
louder than anyone else in my family. Came in handy when Ma wanted everyone called
in from outdoors. Want to hear me? No? Thought not…” she leaned toward the man
whispering in her ear. “Yes, get the manager by all means. The service here is
appalling.”
Kit spun around again to
get a glimpse of this trouble-making woman, who must surely be ashamed of
herself. She stood tall and straight, her chin tilted upwards. In the dim room,
lit only by candles and gas lights on the walls, she shimmered from head to
toe.
The image of a rainbow
trout of many hued scales stilled in a mountain stream came to his mind. Oh, he
knew this was not the most romantic description but seeing her now, he could
almost smell the pine trees and hear the tinkling of water running down a
brook. Wild, yet majestic. Holding its own against an opposing current.
She looked at her
audience with an unflinching countenance. The maître d’ made his way toward her, and all prepared for the next act in the drama.
Henry leaned in. “Oh,
here we go. It’s time someone put her in her place.”
Though not his concern,
Kit blushed with shame on behalf of the woman. Sometimes you just get yourself
in a situation that was hard to dig out of. He understood that. He wanted to
look away, but he was riveted to the unfolding scene. The maître d’ tilted his
head sideways as he quietly explained something to the woman.
She sucked in her
cheeks. “I see. Thank you for explaining why a woman traveling alone cannot sit
down to a nice meal.” Her voice raised as if addressing the room. “However,
though you haven’t exactly voiced this, what I infer from your explanation is
you appear to take a dim view of your fellow beings. Either my presence is
likely to result in the gentlemen here to behave in base ways—which I very much
doubt since as you say yourself this is a respectable establishment not a
saloon—or I am here to procure more than a meal. Rest assured I am not a
prostitute.”
The sound of cutlery
hitting plates filled the room. Someone choked on their food.
She met the flustered maître
d’s eyes. “I have money of my own and intend to spend it lavishly in your
establishment. Now if you will kindly see me to a table... You may tuck me in a
corner if that makes you feel better, and we shall see how well everyone
behaves themselves.”
He thought she was going
to get shown the door for sure. But, instead the maître d’ gave a slight bow
from the waist and led the way to a table.
When she passed their
table, Henry ducked his head and put up a hand to shield his face, but Kit
couldn’t look away. She turned her face to him as if deigning to acknowledge
his presence. His mouth went dry and his chest expanded, holding a deep breath
when their eyes met. She raised her eyebrows in surprise. She had startlingly
light blue eyes, he noted.
When she was seated at a
table, everyone went back to their meals and companions with an uneasy caution.
Henry patted his
mustache down again. “Well, hell, that was really something you don’t see every
day. Talk about your opinionated woman.”
“Extraordinary,” was the
only expression Kit managed to utter.
The woman now sat at a
table across from him in his direct line of vision.
She unfolded the linen
napkin and placed it in her lap with great calm as a waiter approached. “I’ll
start with the oysters, please. And follow that with the biggest steak you
have, so rare it calls for mercy when I stick my fork in it.”
“Yes, madam,” the
near-terrified waiter said.
“Oh, and bring me a
brandy, please.”
“I’m sorry. Women aren’t
served alcohol here.”
Henry put down his fork
on his plate with a loud clunk. “Here we go again.”
Rather than go into
another tirade, the woman sat with a dumbfounded expression on her face as the
waiter scurried away.
“Excuse me!” An elderly
gentleman seated with his wife caught the waiter before he got far. “I’d like a
snifter of brandy, please.”
The waiter returned and
handed the gentleman his brandy, leaving with a quick bow. Shock fell over the
room again when the man stood up and took the brandy over to the woman seated
alone.
“My dear. Do enjoy your
brandy,” he said, putting the glass on the table in front of her.
At his table, the man’s
wife beamed with pride at her husband.
The single lady smiled,
and when she did so, Kit felt his insides shift downward. She had a dazzling
smile.
He breathed out a sigh
of relief the drama ended and went back to his food, which had grown cold. Annoying.
His last good meal in the near future almost ruined. He thought about asking
the waiter to reheat his plate, but then decided the poor man had been through
enough this evening. He grudgingly cut off a piece of ham and shoved it in his
mouth.
As he chewed he felt
someone watching him. He startled when he looked up and found the mysterious
woman boldly taking a bead on him. When their eyes met, she closed one eye in a
slow, lazy wink.
Brazen!
Bold as Brass.
He quickly looked down
at his plate. He felt shaken to his very core. Appetite gone.
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You can find books,both contemporary and historical, by Patti Sherry-Crews at http://pattisherrycrews16.wix.com/author-blog
