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204 pages

English

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While visiting America, Englishman Lord Langsford becomes entangled in a dangerous transcontinental railroad mystery when a beautiful ranch girl named Sally appeals for his help to find her brother’s killers.

It is 1886 as Englishman Lord Langsford travels by train to San Francisco. Newly widowed, Langsford is desperate to escape his grief, demons, and life in England. As Langsford completes the last leg of his transcontinental journey, his life unexpectedly changes once again when he crosses paths with Miss Sally Baxter, a beautiful rancher who packs a pistol in her purse.

Sally has made it her mission to find the men who robbed a train and killed her brother. Unfortunately, no one—not even the owners of the Southern Pacific Railroad—seem to care. Unable to resist her pleas, Langsford offers to help Sally and soon becomes entangled in a web of politics, corruption, and greed. As murder, threats, and attacks ensue that endanger both Sally and Langsford, influential men in both California and Washington, D.C. jockey for positions of power. Langsford, who finds himself oddly attracted to Sally, now must sort through criminals and politicians alike to discover the truth behind her brother’s death and prevent his own murder.

“Not only is this a fast-paced historical mystery, 1886 Ties That Bind offers commentary on the political and social issues that are still relevant today.”

– Helga Schier, PhD, author and founder of With Pen and Paper

Wasserman’s writing is atmospherically rich. Very strongly recommended.

– Historical Novel Society, London, critical review of 1884 No Boundaries

Sujets

Fiction

Southern Pacific Transportation Company

Mystery

Southern Pacific

Historical

Informations

Publié par	Archway Publishing
Date de parution	03 novembre 2016
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781480836631
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	1 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0400€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Also by A.E. Wasserman

Lord Langsford Mystery Series

1884 No Boundaries

1886
Ties that Bind

A.E. WASSERMAN

Copyright © 2016, 2023 A.E. Wasserman.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This book is a work of fiction wrapped within history. Names, characters, places and incidents are loosely based on historical individuals and events.

Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version.

Cover Art
Joseph Anderson Faris, The Neigh of an Iron Horse 186(?)
oil on canvas National Gallery of Art, Washington

Thomas U. Walter Architect of the Capitol, drawing of Capitol Dome 1859

Newspaper articles courtesy of California Digital Newspaper Collection, Center for Bibliographic Studies and Research, University of California, Riverside, < http://cdnc.ucr.edu >.

Archway Publishing
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.archwaypublishing.com
844-669-3957

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

ISBN: 978-1-4808-3664-8 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-4808-3662-4 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-4808-3663-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016916834

Archway Publishing rev. date: 2016; 2023

CONTENTS
Prologue
Part One
Rails and Ties
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Part Two
Politics and Power
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Part Three
Agendas and Motives
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Part Four
Consequences
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72

Afterword
Sources
Acknowledgements
About The Author

Dedicated to my father, the consummate wordsmith

There is nothing new under the sun
~Ecclesiastes 1-9

Porte Cochère , the carriage entrance of the Palace Hotel c. 1890
Restoration by Bennet Hall Photography, San Francisco Images

PROLOGUE
The Central Valley, California, United Sta tes August, 1886
The passengers waited on the Delano Station platform for its arrival; some relaxed on crude wooden benches, while others stood in anticipation, ready to pick up their suitcases to board as soon as they could. The hot California sun danced on the metal rails while the motionless air under the depot’s overhang hung heavy with heat.
They saw it first, a dark dot where the rails converged. Those sitting stood in anticipation, gripping their bags with tight fists. Everyone as a unit slowly moved toward the edge of the worn wooden planks, leaving the stale shade of the overhang so they might encroach upon the edge above the gap, where shiny rails on dark ties lay embedded in gravel deep below. Not too close, for that felt dangerous, but close enough to peer up the track as the dark dot rapidly enlarged into the locomotive they expected.
The black steel mass burst forth into the station, as promised, but failed to fulfill its duty to stop. Indeed, failed to even slow. It monstered through, roaring indignation. The would-be passengers instinctively took a step back under the protection of the short roofed area and away from the now-filled gulf as the wheels spun on hidden rails. The whizzing blur of noise and black roared, followed by a dark-gray car flashing square windows as it clacked past, rapid rhythm, the wind-wake whipping onto the depot platform. Everyone stood frozen with the force of the noise and braced against the hot gust that slammed their bonnets, hats, skirts.
Then it was gone. Silence. A void—above the rails and within their senses. Quiet.
Stunned by the sudden unexpected, they all gasped in unison; a communal breath. Wide-eyed, they tried to speak as they slowly began to recognize what they had just seen fly past.
Two men standing nearest the wooden edge exchanged horrified looks. Clad in dungarees and cotton shirts, they adjusted their wide brimmed hats, and as if practiced, simultaneously turned. “Someone has to stop that train!” The second replied, “Let’s go!” They ran inside the depot sprinting toward the front door and out onto Main Street.
The rest remained on the platform. Some had dropped their valises; mothers stood with babes tight in their arms, or children held against their skirts. Husbands shielded their wives as they all began to react.
Did you see what I saw? Was that real? Were they …?
Those who spoke would finish with their hands over their mouths for what they had seen, was, in fact, unspeakable. The image burned in their minds, like the lingering light in an eye after a lamp’s extinguished wick.
The raging engine had held no engineer. Instead, draped upon the coal bin behind the cab was a body. The car flew by, a body or two leaned awkwardly on a seat, and in one case, flung with shoulders, arms and head hanging through a window, flopping with the speeding rhythm of the iron beast.
The train raged away, diminishing in size as quickly as it had emerged for its arrival.
The metal parade was a dead man’s train.

PART ONE
Rails and Ties

Chapter 1
Transcontinental Railroad, Sierra Mountains California, United States
Miles to the northeast, high within the sharp Sierra Mountains, another locomotive labored up a steep grade, passenger cars obediently following as it wound steadily higher toward the pass.
Sitting in a first-class compartment, Englishman Lord Langsford relaxed, watching the pine trees speed by his window. He was a handsome man, a full six feet, trim with a short cropped beard and stylish moustache. Just twenty-three, he was an aristocrat, wealthy, and well educated. He was also newly widowed, his bride of two years passing during childbirth not quite ten months past. This trip, traveling across a foreign land, was his escape from grief, from his own demons, and his life in England. Here he was determined to put everything behind him so that upon his eventual return home, he could begin life anew. He would outdistance his grief until his past could no longer follow him.
He watched the California sun dance on dark-green pine needles and glint off the still lingering expanses of blinding snow. Even the Alps seem civilized compared to this wilderness , he thought, keen on seeing every twist and turn through these saw-toothed peaks.
Across from him sat his own coachman, Tom Pelham, a dozen years older, a few inches shorter, and clean shaven. His warm smile and happy disposition made him good company. Pelham was first and foremost an outstanding carriage driver, excellent with four-in-hand teams—a natural talent with horses. His physique, solid and broad-chested, made him ideal as a guard against the common thief one encounters during travels. Langsford was convinced that his mere presence had deterred more than one robber’s desire for the Englishman’s purse. Thus, on this journey, his primary role was that of bodyguard, and when necessary, driver. Over the last few years, the social boundary between the two had become more and more permeable due to shared circumstances. Langsford might liken Pelham to the older brother he never had, willing to lend an ear and, if asked, offer advice. If pressed, however, the English lord would merely admit that he enjoyed the company of this favored employee.
Traveling across the vast American continent alone hadn’t appealed to Langsford, so when he planned this journey, he insisted Pelham accompany him for “safety concerns,” as well as playing valet, for his own was old. Besides, he wasn’t inclined to travel with more than one servant. He abhorred fuss. The four black horses left behind in London could be tended by the groom, Langsford reminded Pelham, who had been reluctant to leave his charges.
“What?” he’d mocked his servant. “My horses’ well-being is more important to you than my own?”
“No, m’lord, except you can brush your own hair while they can’t, so they require more tending, unless you wish I simply turn them loose on the Scottish moors to fend for themselves.”
“So if they need the help of opposable thumbs, doesn’t my groom, Mike, have two of those? Surely