Read Online The Rich Shall Inherit by Elizabeth Adler - Free Book Online
Authors: Elizabeth Adler
Ads: Link
seems I’ve been proving him wrong ever since.”
CHAPTER 5
1856—1873, CALIFORNIA
The old adobe house had been built under the curve of the hill. It was shaded with sycamore and oaks and had only two rooms. In one of them an old Indian, wrapped in a striped serape in heat and in cold, cooked smoky-tasting meals over an open fire; the other room was used for sleeping.
Nik spent the first few weeks just riding alone across their land and marveling at his luck, while Jeb went off to Santa Barbara to “scout out the scene” and to register their title deeds. Nik was not lonely, though he went for days without seeing another soul, camping under the stars at night with one ear cocked for the coyote’s howl and the stealthy rustle of prowling bears. But nothing disturbed his solitude and he was happier than he had ever been in his life.
When Jeb returned, it was with the news that he was going to Missouri to buy sheep and that he would need Nik’s five hundred dollars to do so. “How many sheep we buy for that?” demanded Nik excitedly.
“Trust me, boy-o,” Jeb replied evasively, “we’ll have plenty of sheep.”
There were three thousand of them. Nik didn’t bother to ask how this time, he just got on with the job of being a rancher and looking after his sheep while Jeb negotiated for more acres of grazing land.
At first Jeb seemed content with his new role, riding the ranch with Nik, but after a few months the old restlessness took over and he began to spend more time in Santa Barbara, and when that proved too genteel and small-town for him, he headed backto the bright lights of San Francisco. Sometimes Nik wouldn’t see him for weeks and then suddenly he’d be back again, looking tired and pleased with himself, and more often than not with a wad of bank notes in his vest pocket. But he didn’t talk anymore about the big ranch house with the grand piano in the parlor and the fine cook in the kitchen, and Nik realized that his friend was too restless ever to belong totally to life on the ranch. He shrugged off the problem easily. No matter, he was strong enough to do the work of two.
As the years passed Nik planted grain on his land and built huge barns in which to store it. He hired the best shepherds in the world—from the Basque country in Spain—to care for their sheep, and Mexican vaqueros to ride the range and tend their fine new cattle. He erected pens for the animals and he built long, low sheds to house the workers. He worked hard and for interminable hours and he loved every minute of it. He never felt tired, he was as strong as an ox, and the physical work gradually muscled out his body and his young, blond good looks hardened into those of an outdoorsman, with searching pale blue eyes in a stern, sun and wind-tanned face. He sent money home to his family in Russia, but somehow he was never able to shake himself free of the constant round of work at the ranch to return home to visit them.
Most of the time Nik was too busy and too tired even to think about women, and when Jeb came to Santa Barbara he was always the perfect gentleman, raising his hat politely to the maidens and their mothers, and setting young hearts aflutter beneath demure high-necked blouses of white lace.
Jeb kept his women in San Francisco, but it was Nik who fell in love first—and with a girl who was not only lovely, she was a “catch”! He was just twenty-five and Rosalia Abrego was the eighteen-year-old daughter of the owner of one of the greatest cattle ranches in the Lompoc valley. And her father was not inclined to see her throw herself away on some strange Russian whom nobody knew anything about!
The two had met at Loomis’s Saddlery Store in Santa Barbara and it took only one sidelong glance from Rosalia’s lustrous, dark-lashed brown eyes, and a faint but charming smile in his direction, to break Nik’s shyness and interrupt his seven-year love affair with the Rancho Santa Vittoria.
Lovesick, he spent all
CHAPTER 5
1856—1873, CALIFORNIA
The old adobe house had been built under the curve of the hill. It was shaded with sycamore and oaks and had only two rooms. In one of them an old Indian, wrapped in a striped serape in heat and in cold, cooked smoky-tasting meals over an open fire; the other room was used for sleeping.
Nik spent the first few weeks just riding alone across their land and marveling at his luck, while Jeb went off to Santa Barbara to “scout out the scene” and to register their title deeds. Nik was not lonely, though he went for days without seeing another soul, camping under the stars at night with one ear cocked for the coyote’s howl and the stealthy rustle of prowling bears. But nothing disturbed his solitude and he was happier than he had ever been in his life.
When Jeb returned, it was with the news that he was going to Missouri to buy sheep and that he would need Nik’s five hundred dollars to do so. “How many sheep we buy for that?” demanded Nik excitedly.
“Trust me, boy-o,” Jeb replied evasively, “we’ll have plenty of sheep.”
There were three thousand of them. Nik didn’t bother to ask how this time, he just got on with the job of being a rancher and looking after his sheep while Jeb negotiated for more acres of grazing land.
At first Jeb seemed content with his new role, riding the ranch with Nik, but after a few months the old restlessness took over and he began to spend more time in Santa Barbara, and when that proved too genteel and small-town for him, he headed backto the bright lights of San Francisco. Sometimes Nik wouldn’t see him for weeks and then suddenly he’d be back again, looking tired and pleased with himself, and more often than not with a wad of bank notes in his vest pocket. But he didn’t talk anymore about the big ranch house with the grand piano in the parlor and the fine cook in the kitchen, and Nik realized that his friend was too restless ever to belong totally to life on the ranch. He shrugged off the problem easily. No matter, he was strong enough to do the work of two.
As the years passed Nik planted grain on his land and built huge barns in which to store it. He hired the best shepherds in the world—from the Basque country in Spain—to care for their sheep, and Mexican vaqueros to ride the range and tend their fine new cattle. He erected pens for the animals and he built long, low sheds to house the workers. He worked hard and for interminable hours and he loved every minute of it. He never felt tired, he was as strong as an ox, and the physical work gradually muscled out his body and his young, blond good looks hardened into those of an outdoorsman, with searching pale blue eyes in a stern, sun and wind-tanned face. He sent money home to his family in Russia, but somehow he was never able to shake himself free of the constant round of work at the ranch to return home to visit them.
Most of the time Nik was too busy and too tired even to think about women, and when Jeb came to Santa Barbara he was always the perfect gentleman, raising his hat politely to the maidens and their mothers, and setting young hearts aflutter beneath demure high-necked blouses of white lace.
Jeb kept his women in San Francisco, but it was Nik who fell in love first—and with a girl who was not only lovely, she was a “catch”! He was just twenty-five and Rosalia Abrego was the eighteen-year-old daughter of the owner of one of the greatest cattle ranches in the Lompoc valley. And her father was not inclined to see her throw herself away on some strange Russian whom nobody knew anything about!
The two had met at Loomis’s Saddlery Store in Santa Barbara and it took only one sidelong glance from Rosalia’s lustrous, dark-lashed brown eyes, and a faint but charming smile in his direction, to break Nik’s shyness and interrupt his seven-year love affair with the Rancho Santa Vittoria.
Lovesick, he spent all
Similar Books
