The King Hill War Read Online Free PDF Page A

know this letter must have come as a great surprise to you, and you may be wondering who Mrs. Ian Macgregor is. You knew me as Cynthia Rathbone.
    I am sorry that I was not there to welcome you when you returned from the war. But first Gordon was killed, then shortly after that my sister died. And when it seemed as if my brother was going to make it, he was killed in the final month of the war. Of course, you know all of that, you were with both Gordon and Edward when they were killed.
    I don’t know what I would have done if it had not been for Ian Macgregor, and I thank you for letting him bring Edward’s body home to me. Ian helped me pick up the pieces of my life, and we were married shortly after he came back.
    Now, Ian, my daughter Hannah and I live in Idaho near the small town of King Hill. We are raising sheep in what was once all cattle country.
    As you can imagine, sheep herders in cattle company is causing some friction. But I believe that, were it not for a man named Joshua Creed, who owns Crown Ranch, the biggest cattle ranch in the county, we would be able to live together in peace.
    However, it seems to be Mr. Creed’s personal goal to bring about a range war between the cattlemen and the sheep herders, and in a recent confrontation with some of the cattlemen, Ian was badly hurt. He is recovering from two broken legs and, during the recovery, is unable to run the ranch. We have some wonderful Basque people to tend the sheep, but I amsure that the cattlemen, goaded on by Mr. Creed, will take advantage of Ian’s injury. You see, Ian has acted as sort of a leader of the sheep herders, and without him, I fear the others will succumb, one at a time. If that happens, none of us will be able to save our ranches.
    Mason, like many from the South, Ian and I lost everything we had in that terrible war. This small ranch is all that we have. If we lose it, I have no idea where we will go or what we will do.
    I read an article about you in our local paper. I have taken a chance on mailing this letter to you in care of the Saratoga in the hope that it finds you. If this letter does find you, and if, indeed, you are the same Mason Hawke that I knew, the brother of the man I loved and the fiancé of my own sister, then I pray that you will see fit to answer this plea for help from one who, but for the war, would have been your sister-in-law.
    Sincerely,
Cynthia Rathbone Macgregor
    Although Hawke finished reading, he held the letter for a long moment, just staring at the pages. How odd were the twists and turns of life. Had it not been for the war, Cynthia would have been his double sister-in-law, for she was going to marry his brother, and Hawke was going to marry her sister.
    Seeing Hawke sitting there holding the letter but obviously in deep thought, Ben came over to talk to him.
    “Anything important?” he asked.
    “Yes, I think so,” Hawke replied. “Ben, I think I’m going to have to tender my resignation.”
    “Say what?”
    “I’m going to give up my job here. I have a train to catch.”
    “Damn, I hate to hear that, Hawke. I don’t believe I’ve ever heard a piano player as good as you are. But, you did tell us when you took the job that you wouldn’t be staying very long. Where are you going, if I may ask?”
    “Idaho.”

Chapter 3
    WHILE ON THE PRAIRIE, THE TRAIN WAS A BEHEMOTH , overpowering the small plants and shrubs that bordered the track. But once it entered Veta Pass it became nothing more than a poor attempt by man to challenge the grandeur of nature. The Sangre de Cristo range ran down from the north, a towering spine that dwarfed the small train, which, by that perspective, was little more than a worm making its feeble way through the mountains.
    Darkness was falling, and a broad bar of black was overtaking the sky, except in the west, where a strip of pale blue was gradually retreating. As part of the process, the setting sun played upon clouds of vivid color and shape.
    Then, as light