Here is another sneak peek of a first draft of the forthcoming historical fiction novel (working title Desert Steve) by Markus McDowell.
“Farming cotton? In California?” Her eyes were shining. Steve knew she always a wanted to move in California. He was not sure she knew just how large it was.
“Indeed, yes. There is a valley about 150 west of Phoenix, called there Palo Verde Valley. It’s south of a town called Blythe City. Homesteads are for sale all through the valley. Big demand for cotton these days. They’ve ran canals for irrigation from the Colorado River all through the valley—been working on it for 30 years!”
She peered at him. “How do you know all this?”
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He smiled. “I’ve been researching Southern California for many years. In fact, I posted a letter to the land office in Blythe City. They just got as post office there recently.”
“But…but…really?” She leaned over and put her hand on his arm. “We just pick up and leave?”
“Well, it’s not quite that simple. I think I should take a trip out and see what’s available.”
“Just you? You don’t want us to go?”
“From Phoenix to Los Angeles, there are no roads. Just a dirt and gravel trail across the desert. It won’t be an easy trip in our old jalopy. I might take a stagecoach. Once we know our plans, we’ll pack up and go.”
She sat, staring at the table for a few moments. Then she reached out and grabbed his hand. “Let’s do it! I know you are not happy here, and I have always wanted to get out.”
Steve smiled. She was such a trooper. The perfect wife for him. “Okay. We’re at the beginning of October. I say I go as soon as possible—good time to travel the desert, in the winter. Maybe we could plan on moving, God willing, in November or December.”
“The baby is due in January.” She looked at him with raised eyebrows.
Steve had forgotten she was pregnant in all his excitement. “Uh, yes. Do you prefer to wait until after the baby is born?”
She shook her head and laughed. “No! I’m saying the sooner the better.”
“I concur.” He took a deep breath. “Very well, my darling, I shall begin working on places to travel. Let’s see…” His eyes became distant. “Will talk to Elmer at the stagecoach office, see what he knows about the route. Horse? Stagecoach? He’ll have good advice.” He stood up, mind elsewhere, still talking. “Once I have a travel plan. I’ll send a post to the land office again to make an appointment, once that’s done, we can…” His voice trailed off as he wandered out of the room.
Lydia smiled. She loved it when Steve began working on a new idea.
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Desert. Sun. Sand. No roads or human settlements within fifty miles in any direction. The perfect place to found a town?
That’s what Steve Ragsdale believed. So he and his wife bundled up their four kids in their 1915 Ford Model T, bought a local prospector’s shack and well, and built a fuel station (50-gallon drum), a repair garage, and café. He advertised “Free food on days the sun doesn’t shine” and “No drunks, no dogs—we prefer dogs.” He was the owner, sheriff, rockhound, author, naturalist, desert guide, and Santa Claus at Christmas.
He became one of the local “desert rats” and earned the moniker “Desert Steve.” Along the way, he became part of history: the Colorado Aqueduct, the construction of the first State and National highways, the invention of prepaid healthcare, General Patton and World War II, the largest iron mine in the United States, flying saucer sightings, murder, and much more.
Based on a true story, this is the tale of a quirky, clever, and bold man who pursued a dream, wrote bad poetry, and found ways to survive when many would have perished or packed it in.
Discover more from Markus McDowell, author
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