I just loved this book. It tells the life story of saloon peacekeeper Wild Cass Devlin from about the age of 20, when she makes the perilous journey from England to the frontier town of Epiphany in Wyoming, to her death 50 or so years later, inspiration loosely drawn, I’m sure, from the lives of Calamity Jane and Annie Oakley and all the other female gunslingers of the wild west.

There are plenty of gunfights and a few love affairs as we view Cass’s life through three different platforms; her own memoirs, the written story of her exploits and through Cass’s great-great granddaughter, Havoc, descendant of Lady Theodosia Havoc, who Cass actually met, not knowing at the time that they would share the same descendant; ‘I wonder how she would have reacted to the knowledge that her great-grandson, my dad, married Lady Havoc’s great-granddaughter, our mum, after the two matriarchs were both long-dead…’

This in itself fascinates me because I’m currently tracing the family tree, and I’ve discovered that the brother of my 29th great-grandfather was killed (accidentally or otherwise) by my 28th great-grandfather, although these are from two completely separate branches of the family tree, branches that didn’t come together until 420 more years had elapsed. Funny old world, isn’t it?

There are hints at mysticism and the occult, especially when a human rights lawyer from New York, a lady journalist from England, a rodeo champion from Montana, a female photographer from Boston and a mineralogist from India, who all seem to know each other, arrive in Epiphany, a notoriously difficult place to reach, at the same time, and without alerting the townsfolk of their arrival. And although this is a stand-alone book it leaves room for a follow up, and I look forward to reading book 2 in the series.

Another part in the book that I found especially fascinating was when Havoc spots a circular object lodged in the corner of a small wooden chest that contains old correspondence, faded sepia photos, yellowed newspaper cuttings and Cass’s memoirs from the 1800s. Certain that had not been in the chest when she first looked, let alone on the previous occasions she had searched through it, Havoc suddenly remembers other objects that turned up at random since she first begun to read Cass’s memoirs.

The reason I find this so compelling is because the very same thing happened to me. A case that contained something extremely precious to me was missing one item, simply because it had been stolen, and I know by who. A number of people had cause to look through the case, but when it finally came back into my possession, there was the missing item, back where it belonged, sitting in plain site in the case where it would be impossible to miss. I often wonder how the person who stole it felt when she realised it was gone.

This is a lovely book, and I endorse it highly. Not only do I love Cass’s relationship with her lovers, and the townsfolk of Epiphany, but also the various animals that cross her path throughout her life, from her first horse, Hania (Spirit Warrior) to her goats, Pernilla and Prudence, and finally her last puppy, who clearly chooses her, rather than the other way around. Dogs do this, you know. When we ‘chose’ our Bichon Frisé, Ruby, she was the one puppy in the litter who was wagging her tail and practically leaping up at us as if to say, ‘About time you lot turned up! I’ve been waiting for you!’

The book has an enchanting effect on the reader, as if the author has sprinkled magic dust throughout her words. I don’t know how Helen Huber has created this effect, but there’s definitely a burnished tone to this rip-roaring and riotous tale.

Give it a go.