Mercury's Rise (Silver Rush 04)
Mercury’s Rise
A Silver Rush Mystery
Ann Parker
www.AnnParker.com
Poisoned Pen Press
Copyright © 2011 by Ann Parker
First Edition 2011
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 2011926975
ISBN: 9781590589618 Hardcover
ISBN: 9781590589632 Trade Paperback
ISBN: 9781615953295 epub
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.
The historical characters and events portrayed in this book are inventions of the author or used fictitiously.
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Contents
Dedicated to sisters, and especially to
Alison
With love and hugs, stretching over the miles and over the years.
First, I’d like to thank the usual suspects: My family—near and far—for their unending support and encouragement, and especially Bill, Ian, and Devyn (who have to live with all this!).
Then, there are friends, writers, critique partners who patiently stood by me as I thrashed through this next Silver Rush epic. Special thanks to Camille Minichino and Dick Rufer for providing a “hide out” for focused writing; Dani Greer, who, at the eleventh hour, put the virtual knife in my hand, said, “You must kill your darlings,” and pointed me toward some egregious examples (less purple prose herein as a result); and other critique partners/early readers/proofers who read pieces or the whole: Colleen Casey, Janet Finsilver, Staci McLaughlin, Carole Price, Penny Warner, Mike Cooper, Margaret Dumas, Claire Johnson, Rena Leith, Jane Staehle, Gordon Yano, and the “nagsisters.” I owe much to various e-groups who made it possible for me to write “apace” and who share my passion for history and accuracy, including Book-in-a-Week (where writers write together…one page at a time) and Women Writing the West. A special acknowledgment goes to my webmistress Kate Reed for wonderful design and customer service, and to Michael Greer, for the wonderful map of Manitou and environs.
Special kudos to the experts, hither and yon, who gave of their time and knowledge (sometimes on very short notice, and always with grace and courtesy). Experts in Colorado and Manitou Springs and times Victorian: Doris McCraw, Berry Jo Cardona, Deborah Harrison, Dianne Hartshorn, Chelsy Murphy (Colorado Springs Convention & Visitors Bureau, who set up an
awesome
info-packed area tour for me), Bret Tennis (Garden of the Gods), and Donald McGilchrist (The Navigators). Experts in Civil War, medical, and gun “stuff”: Steven and Amy Crane, and George McCluny. Special thanks to researcher Jeanne Munn Bracken, and Profs Michael Grossberg (Indiana University) and Hendrik Hartog (Princeton University) for information on divorce issues/philosophy/laws in the 1800s, and others who provided resources/advice over the years on this “sticky issue,” including Christie Wright and Ruth Rymer. If I’ve gone astray with my facts, these wonderful people are not to blame; rather, it’s my own darn fault (or, in some cases, intention).
Where would we be without libraries and historical societies and museums? In the wilderness, that’s where, learning as we go, without easy access to areas and the past beyond our own experience and memories. My gratitude goes out to all, particularly to Lake County Public Library (esp. Janet Fox and Nancy McCain), Pikes Peak Public Library District/Penrose Library (esp. Dennis Daily), Manitou Springs Public Library, Livermore Public Library, and Denver Public Library. The historical societies/museums that helped me fashion this, the latest story in my Silver Rush “saga”: Colorado Historical Society, the Pioneer Museum in Colorado Springs, the Manitou Springs Heritage Center, and the Old Colorado City Historical Society. A heartfelt plea to readers: Support your libraries and historical organizations! They carry the light from the past to the future and cannot keep the flame alive without our help.
A proper curtsey and bow to The Cliff House in Manitou Springs for its elegant hospitality and for being the inspiration for my fictional the Mountain Springs House, and to Glen Eyrie and its gracious staff for access to their research library and a lovely overnight stay in General Palmer’s “castle.”
To those whose names and/or characteristics I employed with enthusiasm, thanks for giving me permission to “borrow you” for my nefarious fictional purposes—Robert Calder; Sharon Crowson; the Pace/Cummings clan (kids: if you don’t like what I did, blame your mom, she gave permission!); and the one and only Dr. Aurelius Prochazka.
Finally, hats off to those at Poisoned Pen Press: extraordinary editor Barbara Peters, publisher Rob Rosenwald, associate publisher (crack the whip!) Jessica Tribble, and Marilyn, Nan, Annette, Elizabeth. Thank you for bringing Inez and her tales to the wider world.
“Learning is like mercury, one of the most powerful
and excellent things in the world in skillful hands;
in unskillful, the most mischievous.”
—Alexander Pope
August 1880
Inez Stannert had nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.
Since she couldn’t escape the purgatory that was the confined and crowded stagecoach, Inez tried to let the droning voice of the man seated across from her wash over like the water in a mountain stream. But Edward Pace, Boston businessman and investor questing after yet more wealth in the West, went on and on. His monologue was interrupted only by the occasional screech from one of his three children—pushed beyond endurance by the heat, the cramped quarters, the dust—or punctuated by the muffled shout of “G-long!” or “H-up!” from the coach driver on the seat above them.
Mr. Pace’s voice accompanied the rhythmic cadence of horses’ hooves as they pounded mile after mile of red dirt roads. Yesterday, the coach had stopped only for short rest breaks and a non-restful scant handful of hours sleep at a “hotel” in Fairplay. Today, the hapless passengers continued their journey, crammed together shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh, as the coach steadily lengthened the distance from their starting point in Leadville and drew ever closer to their destination of Manitou.
The coach was now edging toward Florrisant, and the final descent out of the high peaks of the Rocky Mountains to the lesser lands at the edge of the mountain range.
The end of the trip could not come soon enough.
Inez clenched her hands, fingernails biting through thin leather gloves. The backs of the gloves were covered with the fine dust that swirled throughout the interior of the stagecoach. A rusty tinge painted every surface and every passenger—Inez, her friend and traveling companion Susan Carothers, the Pace
paterfamilias
, his wife, their three children, and the unintroduced nanny. Inez fervently wished the dust would simply choke Mr. Pace into silence. But Lady Luck was betting against her, and the businessman appeared impervious to the dust’s strangling effects.