The Five Snowmen of Todt Hill Ranch

It was a bizarre little affair. Freaky even. The Todt mansion stood empty for more than fifty years. In its day, it was an estate occupied by a wealthy copper mining magnate. It functioned as a place where seclusion was highly prized.

John Amos Todt was born in 1872. His father was a non-descript shoemaker with big dreams for his son. Their Dutch ancestors came to the new world and settled mainly on the east coast. After the death of his parents, John Todt felt a new freedom to pursue his real dreams of being the wealthiest man in the country. He knew this wouldn't happen in New York.

In a happenstance conversation with a fellow mason, he'd heard the west was the place where young men could seek their true fortunes. After all, hadn't men made their fortunes in the California Gold Rush of 1855?

John Todt knew what he had to do. It wasn't an impulse. He'd lived his early childhood with parents who taught him the value of proper planning and financial prudence. He put off marriage because he believed would only get in the way of his dreams. A wife and children meant huge responsibilities. He had no intentions of ending up a pauper as his father had always been.

Still, he knew it was every man's duty to marry and have children who would carry on their father's name and business. He gave little thought to this as he spent his time gathering his finances for his move to a wilderness state he hoped would be his key to wealth. He ate sparingly, made do with his well-worn clothes and moved into a one-room cold water flat, while he put away nearly every penny he earned.

His took a job as an apprentice stone mason and worked his way up the ladder of seniority. His experience in stone masonry taught him many things about stone, ore and mining. Stone and cement wouldn't be his life's work. By the time he was ready to make his move, he saved enough money to finance his travel venture and purchase land, with enough left to build a copper mining business.

Oh, it would be a very small operation at first. But, a man has to start small to become bigger than life...and very wealthy.

Travel in 1896 to the west was largely by train. The state he chose was Montana. He'd heard of the gloriously fertile land and more importantly, vast copper ores ready to be mined. He made his way by rail as far as Chicago. Building of the Montana Railroad had only just begun in 1895 and was yet to be completed.

This was a good sign for John. It meant access to shipping copper out of Montana to other states for smelting. Later, he would set up his own smelting operation to contain profits.

He spent a few months in Chicago firming up a team of men who would supervise mining copper ore. He chose a ten thousand acre piece of land in the southwestern part of Montana. He realized he could graze cattle and horses and proceed with his plan to mine copper. He studied the geological maps intently.

He plunked down his life savings for the acreage and held a ten-year mortgage for equipment he needed for the mining operation. He knew copper mining would bring in enough to pay off the mortgage long before its payment term was final. He was correct beyond his wildest dreams.

His timing was impeccable. The demand for copper for piping coincided with the demand for more housing in the big cities back East. All of these needed copper piping. John set his sights on bigger fish. He wanted to be the largest copper vendor for the new manufacturing plants built all along the East Coast.

He had a modest sized home built on one hundred acres of his property. He figured it would do nicely if ever he found a wife. He'd leave it to her to decorate it with a woman's touch. He called the parcel of land and home, "Todt Hill." He reserved another fifty acres for use as a tourist site.

With copper pouring out of his mines, John Todt saw an opportunity to use those fifty acres to build log cabins with their own small fireplaces for heat. It would be a sports camp for hunters and fishermen, given the proximity to the forests and streams.

He hired on a young woman named Lavinia Rhodes. Her job was to prepare meals in a single, larger lodge for the sportsmen who would stay in his cabins.

Lavinia was not one of those delicate flowers of womanhood. She was born in Butte, Montana and knew the region like the back of her hand.

She was a cook in a large sports camp near Cascade for five years. John knew she was quite capable. She often prepared freshly caught fish or venison to the delight of his cabin sports. He had to admit he missed having a woman in his life.

In his mind, he desired a woman with a little spunk and yet, docile enough to know her place.

Lavinia seemed to be a free flying bird who preferred to work on her own. She didn't seem interested in marriage. Or if she did, it wasn't obvious.

John spent much of his time tending to the duties of his multiple businesses. Now, he had land enough for copper mining, to lease for grazing horses and cattle and sports cabin rentals.

He felt quite proud of his accomplishments for a man not yet thirty years old.

At first, he didn't mind the constant coming and going of sportsmen and tourists. Shortly thereafter, he had a special access road built to avoid noise of cabin guests.

In truth, his home was located far enough from the cabins and lodge and still be relatively remote.

Montana evenings in spring were glorious tributes to gentle breezes, the soft rustling of aspens and birds that made the lush forest a virtual symphony.

John's daily routine didn't change much. He woke before dawn, ate his breakfast of corn meal mush and saddled up his horse, Reggie, to inspect his grazing land. He loved to look out over the vast open land with its new green color just sprouting. Then, he'd return a few hours after sun up, have a second cup of coffee and ride out to the cabins to make certain they were in order.

By now, John's entourage of employees including ranch men who saw to the grazing land, horses and cattle, a cabin manager and a three cabin assistants, who managed the cleaning and other needs of tourists.

He hired a housekeeper, Mrs. Wilson, to clean his mansion, a laundress, who came in once a week to deal with his personal laundry and three times a week to manage laundry from the cabins.

While Lavinia cooked for cabin residents, Orlah Jennfrey cooked at his mansion. Her duties were to prepare dinner and clean up afterward. There wasn't much to it.

John ate his dinner in the formal dining room most nights. Now and then, if he felt the urge for company, he took his dinner in the kitchen at the large, rough-hewn table.

Orlah always bristled when he decided to do this. She felt it was John Todt's way of keeping an eye on her. She was mistaken.

John Todt knew the kind of woman he wanted for a wife. She needn't be a beauty. He wanted what he called a "womanly" woman. One who was well-bred and able to have teas with finger sandwiches for the wives of the town's most important men.

He knew he'd not find such a woman in the wilds of Montana. He'd have to go back east and hunt for one of those debutantes their mothers were always so eager to match with wealthy men.

He had misgivings about ever going back to New York. In some ways, he felt it might bring him bad luck. He wasn't sure why. He also disliked leaving his homestead for more than a day or two.

There was a lot happening back east and John Todt was totally ignorant of most of it. He got snippets now and then from men who were just riding through on their way to Canada where the fur trade was a big business.

But, like it or not, John packed his bags and off he went to the biggest city south of Boston. True to his drive and ambition to reach his goals, he brought back the perfect wife, Lilah Howard-Johnstone, a true Plymouth Rock blue blood.

She was just attractive enough to catch his eye and had a good figure for a woman past age twenty-two. She would certainly be strong enough to bring John the sons he needed to keep his name alive for many generations to come. His only reservation was whether Lilah could endure the brutish Montana winters. They could be endlessly cruel and harsh.

John's homestead was one hundred miles from the nearest town. He traveled there only for business and supplies. Chinook was a sleepy little town known mostly for its museums and sparse businesses that lined the main street.

He thoroughly vetted Lilah to be certain she wouldn't take off running after the first bad winter set in. In an odd sort of way, she was aloof and possessed reserved charm women of good breeding always had.

She was nearly as tall as John, at five feet and seven inches. Her raven hair was conservatively pinned at the nape of her neck. Her shoulders were impressive. When she stood erect, they appeared as taut as a military commander's. Best of all, she knew how to ride a horse, although, only the modest English side saddle style.

John Todt married his wife on June 20, 1906 at a grand wedding planned by her family in the biggest hotel in the city. She was twenty-five years old and he was thirty-one. The trip back to Montana was long. But, Lilah didn't complain...even, when in Chicago, their baggage had not yet shipped from New York.

When John wired his homestead foreman, he requested his carriage be brought to the train station. He owned only one, rarely used carriage. It wouldn't do to make a new wife ride side saddle thirty miles to the homestead.

The town had a rail station, such as it was. It was mainly to ship freight and bring in supplies. Now and then, the railroad engineer would allow a passenger to ride upfront in the locomotive as far as the main station.

It took a few months for Lilah to settle in to John's daily routine. They woke every day at the crack of dawn. John wouldn't have a wife sleeping till noon. They ate their breakfast in the breakfast room adjacent to the kitchen. Then, John would do his daily rounds and return to his office where he spent the rest of the afternoon going over his accounts.

Lilah kept herself busy ordering new drapes for the parlor and bedrooms and making other changes.

They ate their dinner formally every night in the large dining room. He, at one end of the long table, and she, at the other. Mostly, they ate in silence. Now and then, John would glance at Lilah and she'd return the glance with a smile.

"My dear, you might want to plan an afternoon tea for the mayor wife's and council," John suggested.

"Why, that's a wonderful idea, Mr. Todt," Lilah answered

"You write the invitations. I am going to town tomorrow, I will post them for you then," John said.

"I truly appreciate that. I will write the invitations tonight," Lilah answered.

Lilah would much rather have spent her time out riding than sitting with these women. But, as John Todt's wife, she knew her duties to her husband came first. His wishes were her command.

She planned the tea one week in advance of the arrival of her invitations. That would give the ladies plenty of time to make their arrangements.

She decided not to purchase a new frock for the tea. She would wear her favorite deep red velvet with the lace trim. She couldn't seem to get used to the calico and serge women wore in this part of the country.

Even though she was a more athletic type back home, she still always dressed in the very best fabrics her family could afford.

For the event, Lilah planned a "ladies" menu. Cook wrinkled her nose when Lilah handed the menu to her.

"This is the menu for the tea," Lilah said.

"Yes, m'am." Cook responded, dryly.

When the day and hour arrived, guests were on time.

Cook prepared finger sandwiches, little sweet cakes and pots of steaming hot tea.

She tried to be a good hostess. But, she sensed she was considered an "outsider" by these women. Lilah was glad when the tea ended. It was a seemingly endless waste of time. The women had little in common with her beyond their knowledge of ranching. Which, by all accounts, was as minimal as Lilah's.

Lilah had one dream for her future: to write stories and see them published. She found the big house too full of daily routines like checking the menu for dinner, accepting invitations to dinners in town and keeping track of various supplies cook needed.

She sensed the depths of her boredom were growing. She had the housekeeper, Mrs. Wilson, outfit an empty room on the second floor at the end of the hall with a desk and lamp for writing.

John already had an office on the first floor with a full library of books he collected in his travels. She needed solitude to write what she hoped would be a woman's view of frontier living.

Hearing the hustle and commotion on the second floor as furniture was set in place in Lilah's new writing office, John poked his head in the entrance.

"Lilah, what on earth are you doing?" he asked.

"I want a place to write," she answered.

"Write? Write what? You have a secretary desk in the parlor to do all the writing you wish. Why do you need a whole room?"

"I want to write stories."

John laughed and then said,

"Stories? For whom?”

"I want to write stories from a woman's point of view of living in this frontier," she answered.

"And just who do you think will read that?" John asked.

"I'm hoping to send it back East to a publisher my father knows," she said.

"No. No. No. No wife of mine is going to be made a fool of. Women don't write and they certainly do not publish what they write. Why, the very idea is laughable. Men read. Women don't. Men read the papers. Women don't. When was the last time you read a newspaper?" he asked.

"I would read it if it wasn't so deadly dull," she answered.

"See? That's what I was referring to. Women can't read gazettes and newspapers. They don't understand what they read. No. Better you stick to your teas and dinners we are invited to. Which, by the way, the Mayor is having a formal dinner on Sunday, after church. We'd best send a note that we will attend," John said.

Lilah realized the conversation about her writing was over. Still, John didn't say the writing room needed to be dismantled. So, she would write when he was away every chance she had.

That single conversation between John and Lilah Todt set the tone for the rest of their marriage.

John decided to build a small cabin on the northeast end of his property. It was four miles from their mansion. When he announced his plans for the cabin, Lilah was curious.

"Why do you need another cabin when there are so many already on the ranch?" she asked.

"This is to be my personal hunting lodge. There are plenty of elk and buffalo out on my land. I'd like to bag a few and have them sent to the taxidermist in town. I want to hang their heads on the lodge walls," John said.

"I wasn't aware you were so keen on hunting," Lilah said.

"There are many things of which you are unaware, my dear. For example, I am a sharpshooter with a rifle. I may as well use those skills to advantage," John said.

Lilah didn't know these things. The idea of elk and buffalo heads displayed on walls anywhere made her stomach turn. That was where she and John differed greatly. Lilah respected and love horses and nature. John wanted to control these.

Just as he controls me, she thought absently.

She refused to allow that kind of thinking. After all, John Todt had been more than generous to her in the early years of their marriage.

"May I see your hunting lodge when it is completed?" she asked.

"Certainly. I expect the men to have it finished before winter arrives. They've cut, limbed and debarked the trees to make the walls. They gathered river stones to create the fireplace. It's not very big. Not as big as this house, of course."

"Of course not," Lilah said.

"But, yes. You may see the hunting lodge. Would you like to learn how to hunt?" John said.

"Gracious me! I don't think I'd be safe around any firearm," Lilah said, feigning female weakness.

"Well, you can learn to overcome your fear of firearms. It's really only a matter of point and fire," John said.

Summers in Montana were a gift from heaven. The air was sweet, the sun gentle and the wind kinder than anyone might expect.

Lilah held teas more often, although outdoors in the sun, beneath copious blue Montana skies. John was pleased to note her growing interest in social affairs.

He wasn't the social type himself. But, he did recognize the importance of keeping connections close at hand to know what was "in the wind" for his ranch.

He considered running for Council and then reconsidered. He had bigger ideas in mind than a local council seat. He knew the only way to insure state legislation in his favor was to connect with the names at the top of the state list.

John and Lilah rode off one late September morning to see the newly finished hunting lodge. It was well constructed and reminded Lilah of the log cabin she'd once seen in the Massachusetts woods. The scent of pine was everywhere inside the cabin.

"The logs are all made of sturdy pine. The men used tight pine tar to seal out any drafts and the windows are double glazed. I had them shipped to us from a London glazier," John said.

He tapped lightly on the window.

"Look at the thickness of the door. No bear can claw his way through that, not even if he spent several days clawing it," John said.

The door of the cabin certainly was "bear proof" from the looks of it. It was wide enough for two men to walk through and made of six long pine logs seven feet in length.

The floor of the lodge was laid with clean white pine planking that stretched across the entire cabin.

"What is that room off the fireplace?" Lilah asked.

"Sleeping quarters for when I want to stay for a few days to hunt," John said.

Lilah didn't realize John planned to sleep in this hunting lodge. The "sleeping quarters" were half the size of the main lodge room. It had a hand-hewn wooden bed, chest of drawers and smaller fireplace on the exterior lodge wall.

The hunting lodge was geographically located on Todt land a few miles south of the Bear Paw Mountains between Havre and Chinook. This was due to the kidney shape of his 10,000 acres.

The floor plan was fairly well designed. The large fireplace would serve as a means of warmth for the main lodge room and also to cook whatever was hunted. There was an iron spit inside the fireplace and a huge forged log grate that could easily fit a half dozen logs, two or three feet in length, if need be.

John had thought of everything. There were two large seats on either side of the entrance to the lodge. They were covered by a small, high arched roof that gave the lodge a "hunter" look.

"It's just as you hoped, isn't it?" Lilah asked.

"Yes. It's far removed from the sports cabin...enough to be isolated and out of the view of our staff at the homestead," John said.

"And me?" Lilah asked.

"Well, my dear. I am sure you wouldn't have much reason to venture up here since hunting is not of interest to you for reasons you stated. And, you wouldn't want to risk being shot by a stray bullet, would you?" John said.

Lilah realized why John chose this site. He wanted a place to go when he needed to be completely alone. The expression on her face told John she was uncertain of his real desire for solitude. This was of no real concern to him. Women always had odd ideas. John was tolerant of this female weakness.

The Todt marriage was one of absolute convenience. John needed a wife who fit into his view of manhood and convention. Lilah was raised to believe it was a wife's duty to do whatever her husband wanted. Or, in John's case, didn't want. Their marriage remained childless into their middle ages.

All entreaties to John to consider her age and her desire for children went ignored. John simply had no desire for children. This was contrary to his feelings in his youth.

Now, he felt he'd achieved all that was expected of him. He was one of Montana's most successful businessmen and he could take great solace from his accomplishments.

Lilah grew more despondent when she realized her child bearing years were past her. John refused to give her much freedom and the more he insisted she be his convenient hostess for his business associates, the more she saw her life flashing endlessly and without meaning before her.

Lilah found consolation in writing. Some days, she remained in her writing room from early morning to night whenever John was away.

John felt Lilah had not "aged well." As he reached his middle fifties, he began to have a sense of entitlement to things he'd denied himself in his younger years. Like a woman to satisfy his needs. He knew he didn't want to visit Helena's well attended and most popular brothel owned by one painted woman named Arianna Marchand. He'd heard all of the whispers at those business meetings from upper crust men who "visited" the "rooms" above Helena's Moosejaw Saloon.

Quite by coincidence, he encountered Lavinia Rhodes, the woman he installed to see to the needs of the cabins. Over the years, less of her job was dealing with the sportsmen. The cabins caught the eye of the wealthy from back east who thought living in the woods for a week or two was a "rustic adventure."

Lavinia blossomed in the thirty years since he hired her on. Where once she was a tall, sturdy boned young woman with chestnut brown hair, fair skin and wild hazel eyes, she was now a womanly figure with curves John couldn't help admiring. Her hair was streaked properly with strands of silver.

Their encounter occurred when John decided to inspect the cabins. He'd long ago given up that task when he hired a regular cabin caretaker, Eli Falconer. He allowed Eli and his three sons Cole, Albert and Tom, to occupy one of the cabins the year round in exchange for his skills as a carpenter.

Eli's wife, Selena, had run off shortly before John hired Eli. John felt he could make use of the young boys on the ranch, once they had a little experience. Eli was glad for the opportunity.

True to his nature, John was right. The three boys grew into sturdy young men who learned how to handle the rough life around horses and cattle. Ranching came as naturally to them as breathing.

Lavinia never minded that Eli and his sons were part of the Todt homestead. In fact, she often prepared their meals when they weren't heading into town. Unbeknownst to John, Lavinia had taken a liking to Eli. Whenever his sons mentioned to him, he felt a twinge of annoyance.

"Lavinia, the last cabin down the line, how long has it been unoccupied?" John asked, hiding his need to strike up a conversation.

"Not long, Mr. Todt. I expect, this being near the end of the season, most of the other cabins will be emptying up soon."

"No doubt," John replied.

"Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Todt?" Lavinia asked.

"Well, matter of fact, I was wondering if you'd like to come on up to see my private cabin on the far acres," John said.

"I...I think I just might," Lavinia said, smiling broadly.

Lavinia was not used to the attention of John Todt. But, she was sharp witted enough to know when any man had "no good" on his mind.

That was just the beginning of Lavinia's many visits that lasted for nearly three years before Lilah became away of it.

At first, Lilah believed she had no right to confront her husband. Still, she knew the ranch hands and their ranch foreman, Charlie Forrell, felt pity on her. Every time she passed them by, their whispers were more than she felt she dared endure. Such was the fragile state of her growing depression.

She sat in her bedroom feeling helpless. She and John no longer shared a bedroom. She thought about running away...back east to her family, if any of them still would have her or were even still living. She'd heard so little from her family and was sure this was John's doing. The isolation he created at first didn't bother her. When the isolation was coupled with the drudgery of her social duties, her depression grew.

"John, I would like to speak with you," Lilah said, over dinner one November evening.

"Certainly, my dear."

"I want to know why you feel the need for Lavinia Rhodes' company," Lilah said.

She felt her daring stiffen and refused to retreat.

"My need for...Lavinia Rhodes?" John said, his shoulders squaring back.

He burst into laughter.

"Why do you think I have a need for Lavinia Rhodes?" he asked.

"I don't think it. I know it.  I am not unaware of the whispers among others on your land," Lilah said.

"My dear, you must think me a fool. Lavinia Rhodes has been here since before we married. You know she is a born and bred Montanan. What would you have me do when I inspect the cabins? Pretend she doesn't exist?" John asked.

"You have no need to inspect the cabins. I am talking about you and Lavinia and that cabin you built on the north acres," Lilah said.

John was not aware Lilah knew about his trysts with Lavinia. But, he wasn't about to allow any woman to dictate her wishes to him.

"What I do in that cabin is no concern of yours. You have the biggest home in these foothills, nearly a castle for a queen. Is this not to your satisfaction?" John asked.

"This isn't my home. It's like everything else here. It's yours. All yours. I am but a convenient hostess for your business associates' wives. I wanted a family. You wanted no children. Now, children are not possible," Lilah said.

"Do you plan to forfeit all I have provided to you, then?" John asked, boldly.

Lilah hated when John's angry, dark eyes became like daggers. There he sat, at the head of the table, his slicked back black hair and pale skin like some evil statue. She hated when he managed to have the composure of a swan, a black swan, even when he was roiling inside with anger.

Lilah remained silent. When dinner was through, Lilah knew where John was going. She knew what she had to do. She knew her options were all too few.

She reached in the drawer of John's desk where he kept his pistol. She walked to the end of the hall to the unused room she once hoped would be a nursery for their children. She pushed the small settee against the door and lay back on it with the pistol to her temple. She pulled the trigger. Lilah Howard-Johnstone Todt wife of a prominent business man was dead.

Lilah's body was not found until the following morning. John Todt spent the night in the cabin as he had done many times before...with Lavinia Rhodes.

When he asked their maid why Mrs. Todt had not come down to breakfast, she told him Mrs. Todt was not home and had not slept in her bed.

"Did anyone see Mrs. Todt leave?" John asked.

"No sir. Not a one of us."

John saddled his horse and galloped off into town as fast as he could. The first train of the day would be the one Lilah would be on. There was no train at night. She had to be in the train station still.

He searched the train depot and questioned the station master.

"Mrs. Todt has not purchased a ticket, Mr. Todt."

"Are you certain? Are you absolutely certain?" John demanded.

"I am as certain as I can be. We closed the station last night early due to the oncoming storm."

John rode back to the ranch. Nothing made any sense. He knew she couldn't ride off. Then, he remembered what an excellent horsewoman she'd once been.

Next, he questioned his men.

"No sir. Mr. Todt. No horses are missing," Cole Falconer said.

"Thank you, Cole. I was just checking in case that horse rustler might have taken it to his mind to steal one of ours. I hear that several horses have been stolen in the last six months around here," John said, making an excuse for his inquiry.

He went back into the house. He paced back and forth furiously. Then, he spied the desk drawer slightly ajar. He never left any drawer ajar...ever. Particularly, not one with a pistol in it.

Pulling the drawer open, he saw the pistol was missing.

"Annie, Pete, come in here please!" John called to the maid and butler.

"Have either of you seen the whereabouts of my pistol?"

"No sir," Pete said.

"Annie?"

"Oh no, sir. I don't even know how to shoot," Annie said.

"When did you last clean this room?"

"Why, just yesterday sir. The pistol was in the drawer. I know because I refilled the ink bottle and put it in that drawer," Annie said.

"So, you are sure you saw the pistol in the drawer yesterday?" John asked.

"Oh yes, sir I am certain."

"And you closed the drawer tightly? You didn't leave it ajar?" John asked.

"No sir. I know how you like to make certain all drawers are firmly closed."

"That's all. Thank you," John said, dismissing the two.

John bounded up the stairs to the second floor. He furiously searched Lilah's room. All of her personal effects were on her boudoir table as usual. The closets were full of her clothes. Her fur coat was still hanging in the closet.

She wouldn't have gone out in this cold winter without her fur, John thought.

He didn't know why he turned left instead of right down the long, second floor hall. He stopped at the last room...the room Lilah hoped would become their children's nursery. He turned the knob and tried to open the door; but, it wouldn't budge.

He pushed with full force against it. He puzzled over why it the door wouldn't open. Finally, after several hard shoves, he managed to open it about six inches and was able to push the door open wide enough for him to slip through.

To his horror, he saw Lilah lying on the settee. Dried blood had spilled from the settee onto the carpet. His body reeled.

"Noooooooooooo!" he screamed.

Annie and Pete heard the scream and rushed to the second floor.

"No...Don't come in here. Get the constable. Quickly. I don't want anyone in that room, do you hear?" John bellowed.

Lilah was buried near a tall oak tree on the part of Todt land considered too infertile and barren for grazing or growing, the following day. John wouldn't allow any one to pay their respects.

"She couldn't be buried on hallowed ground. She killed herself. She cannot be respected for that," John told Lavinia when next they met.

Lavinia Rhodes assumed with his wife dead, she might have the chance to take Lilah's place.

When he refused to allow her to set foot inside his mansion, Lavinia realized John Todt had been using her.

She decided to get even with him. She waited until spring and he was away. Then, she set fire to the cabin. She knew the woods would be like tinder in the dry spring wind. The cabin would burn quickly.

She packed her things and left "Todt Hill." She took the next train and headed for Butte.

John returned home to find Lavinia gone and the cabin burned. He was livid. Oddly, he didn't blame Lavinia outright. But, he knew she was responsible.

Eli Falconer was concerned that maybe one of his sons or he might be blamed.

No one had seen anyone near the cabin the night it went afire. Charlie Forrell guessed a bear got inside and knocked over the fluid John used for fire starter. Not wanting to broadcast the fire, John let the issue die quietly. It wouldn't do for a man of his stature to appear to have been the victim of revenge, least of all from a woman.

Now, John Todt was alone in a big house and he would have to replace Lavinia. John gave Lavinia's job to Eli's son Albert. Albert was twenty-two and had always been the one to do the cooking when their mother took off. He was thrilled at the chance to manage the cabins and be the head cook.

John Todt grew older, alone and more incapable of relationships with women. He kept to himself and as he neared age sixty, he became more reclusive.

The year 1929 was not a good one for John Todt. He watched as his mining stocks quickly dropped in value. Worse, his ores were beginning to dwindle and production was at its lowest.

Then, that September, Wall Street crashed with a roar heard clear across the country to Montana. His mining operations shut down, his workers left and no one had money to spend on cabin vacations. His ranch hands, save Charlie Forrell, all left when John couldn't meet his obligation to pay them. After a while, even Charlie was gone...with no warning after nearly twenty years.

Eli, Cole, Albert and Tom were all that remained in Todt Hill. Annie and Pete left when John refused to pay them the wages he owed them. He had a little money left in cold hard gold. He didn't dare spend what was left of it.

The winter of 1929 began the last week of September. This added to John Todt's misery. The snow fell hard and fast. It would stop snowing for a day or two and start right back up again. By November of that year, not even the Falconers set foot outside their cabin.

The house was cold. John shut the doors to the second floor rooms to keep out the cold. His food supplies were running low and he worried how he'd make it through the rest of the winter. His cook, Orlah Jennfrey, housekeeper, Mrs. Wilson and the laundress were also gone.

His home felt like a huge, icy cold tomb. He spent his days in front of the large kitchen fireplace to keep warm. He moved an overstuffed chair into the kitchen. He often slept in his chair as the dying embers in the fireplace began to subside.

He burned whatever remained of furniture from Lilah's room and the writing room for firewood. He found the book Lilah was writing and burned that too.

Then, with snow piling up outside the side porch, he realized needed more wood for fuel. There was nothing more he could burn.

He donned his heavy outer coat and boots and made his way to the Falconer cabin on foot. It was nearly three miles from his house. He hoped they could round up some wood to keep his mansion warm. He passed the oak where Lilah was buried. Only the stone jutted upwards from the ground. He shivered as he recalled the sight of her dead body.

By the time he got to the Falconer cabin, he was covered head to toe in snow. His face was barely perceptible. His skin burned from the cold and ice against his face.

He nearly collapsed as he reached the cabin. He banged on the cabin door.

"Who goes there?" Eli shouted from within.

"John Todt. Open the door!"

"Why Mr. Todt, what on earth are you doing out in this blizzard?" Eli asked.

"Cole, Albert, Tom, come help get Mr. Todt inside. He must be frozen to his bones, by now."

Once inside, John Todt realized it was foolhardy to try to make it back three miles on foot.

"What brings you out in such hellish weather, Mr. Todt?" Eli asked.

"I need fuel to keep the house warm. There's no wood left. Can you and your boys fetch some from the wood shed and bring it up to the house?" John asked.

"We can. But, wouldn't it be better if you stay here till the snow lets up some?" Eli asked.

"No. I want you to fetch me some wood! I'll make it back to the house," John said.

The four men were surprised at such an outrageous request.

Cole rounded up the small wagon while Tom saddled two horses.

"What you going to do with the wagon?" Albert asked.

"Put old man Todt on it so we can get him back home, what else?" Cole said.

"In this blizzard, we'll be lucky to get half way there and not become human snowmen," Albert said.

"Got to do what the old man says. He owns this place where we live, remember?" Cole said.

"How can we forget? He prances around here like he's a king," Tom said.

"Well, it is his kingdom," Albert said.

"C'mon. Let's get moving. The storm isn't going to be much help," Cole said.

The three young men loaded up the wagon with wood from the nearby woodshed. By the time it was loaded, they were covered in snow.

"Go get the old man. I've left just enough wagon room for him to ride back," Albert said.

Eli and his sons helped get John into the wagon.

"That's a plenty load of wood," John said.

"We best get you back home," Cole said.

"I'm going with you," Eli told his sons.

"No, Pa. We can manage without you. You won't get near as far as the next half mile. You stay behind," Tom said.

"I said I'm going. And, going I am," Eli demanded.

The boys knew not to argue with their father.

"Why don't you ride in the wage with Mr. Todt?" Albert asked.

"No. You three need an extra set of hands. This wagon is heavy and you won't get it over the ridges in the trail," Eli said.

The snow seemed to pause for the next half hour.

"Looks like maybe the storm is passing," Tom said.

"We can only hope," Albert replied.

The men pushed and pushed. Eli's face was redder than a hot fire. But, he gave no complaint.

As nearly as Tom thought the storm was passing, another quarter mile, an atrocious wind came upon them with snow gusts that blinded all four men.

"Pa, we can't go no further," Albert said.

"We don't have a choice. Mr. Todt wants this wood back at the homestead. Keep on moving," Eli shouted above the blizzard force winds.

Without his sons realizing it, Eli stopped for barely a few seconds. He leaned against a nearby tree trunk. When Cole saw his father was missing, they tried to fight their way through the white out conditions and find him. None of them made it more than a few steps before they were stopped in their tracks by the gale force winds.

Night fell with the four men stopped where they'd stood, unable to move for the freezing wind, life slipping away from each. John Todt called out to them, but got no answer. By morning all five of the men were dead. Cole, Albert and Tom stood hip deep in snow. Eli was no more than ten feet away lifelessly clinging to the tree he was now frozen to. John Todt lay under a pile of snow in the wagon frozen to death.

The five were not found until the first spring thaw and only by mere chance. Charlie Forrell stopped by to visit and realized that Todt Hill House was empty. Some of the cattle and horses were dead and others close to dying. Charlie knew something had gone very wrong.

He rode back off to the constable's to get help. With the prevailing icy winds of a Montana March, John Todt, Eli, Cole, Tom and Albert Falconer were found were they died. People in Chinook took to calling the tragic men "The Snowmen."

Todt Hill House was eventually sold to the state when no heirs could be found to take possession of the land, the cabins or the homestead.

No one ventured near Todt Hill House until the year 1979. Richard Harlsbrough, a New York stock broker, was in search of a secluded hideaway in a rustic state. He settled on Montana, far from the crowded Wall Street and its great unwashed masses. His real estate agent was reticent to mention Todt Hill House because it had acquired a mystique as being "haunted." The place was empty for fifty years and the real estate agent figured by the time the place had a new owner, the ghost stories were long a part of the past.

Sensible Montanans from Chinook didn't say so publicly for fear of appearing foolish. But, they'd heard about the ghosts of the five snow men of Todt Hill House.

Harlsbrough wasn't about to miss a great real estate investment. He purchased the entire 10,000 acres, tore down the sports cabins and added rooms to the Todt House. When he and his wife, Karen moved into Todt House, their eight year old son, Jamie, had trouble sleeping in the room at the end of the second floor hall. Each night, he awoke screaming that he heard a terrible sound like a gun shot. He was moved to the room where Lilah wrote her unpublished stories. In the early morning hours before dawn, he thought he saw the ghost of a tall woman standing over him.

Richard and Karen didn't know what to make of their son's claims. They'd heard the stories about the five snow men of Todt Hill House. They dismissed it as old folk’s superstitions. Richard opened a financial management firm, not that he expected it to compete with those in New York City.

It took a bit of getting used to the ways and people in Montana. His city ways was more than obvious. It wasn't just the ways and the people. It was the adjustment to longer winters. Living above the high line meant closer proximity to the mountains.

Yet, he and Karen loved the freedom of the vast and enormous wide open spaces. Jamie seemed happiest roaming about the ranch. Richard had yet to invest in cattle or horses. He figured that would come eventually. Most important was to get used to being isolated from civilization so far from a town. Karen had to learn to buy her supplies in bulk in order to avoid driving one hundred miles to town.

With their second winter upon them, Richard invested in a sturdy pickup truck and hired on several workers to cut enough fire wood to keep the home fires burning brightly. He'd made several major renovations to Todt Hill House. The most expensive was a central heating system and a fully electrically wired home. He replaced the roof with one of those sturdy aluminum and vinyl clad plank styles in sienna. He had brick installed on the exterior and upgraded the kitchen and laundry appliances. By the time the renovations were done, the Harlsbrough's moved in two years earlier, Todt Hill House was barely recognizable from its past appearance.

Both Richard and Karen enjoyed their remodeling projects. The second floor remodeling was still in progress. Karen wanted a larger master bedroom with walk-in closet and private bath. This was accomplished by joining John and Lilah's bedrooms into a single, luxurious room.

With a total of five bedrooms on the second floor, Jamie's room and the room at the end of the hall were the last to be renovated.

Karen loved having a full fireplace in her and Richard's master bedroom. She thought perhaps she might turn the "writing room" as it came to be called into a second floor office for Richard. John Todt's office had been the room occupied by Jamie during the remodeling.

With Jamie occupying John's office, the boy seemed less edgy and tense. Karen noticed this and tried to make light of his former claims of seeing a tall woman ghost.

"Jamie, are you sleeping well?" she asked.

"Yes, mother. I like this new room. My I stay in it?" Jamie asked.

"No ghosts there yet?" Karen said, with a gentle smile.

"Mother! I tell you I did see her. She was very tall and very sad," Jamie said.

As the Montana fall turned into winter, Richard realized his office in town would need to be closed. The trip down the winding roads and highway would no doubt be impassable when the snows began in earnest. By October, light snow had already fallen.

His last customer was a grandson of Charles Forrell named Charles Forrell III. He wanted to discuss the inheritance his father had put by for him. During their discussion, the subject of Todt Hill House arose.

"Why my grandfather, Charlie, worked for old Mr. Todt," Charles said.

"Really? When was that? I understand Todt lost his copper mining fortune with the crash of '29," Richard said.

"He was a business wizard most people in Montana were proud of. He owned a sports camp on his ranch, leased his land to cattle and horsemen and...well...I'm sure you heard all about the cabin fire set by his "mistress."

"No, my wife and I have not been living so very long in Montana or Todt Hill House," Richard replied.

"Well, suffice it to say, Lavinia Rhodes and John Todt were a little more than employer and employee. She was his cabin cook back in those days. Though, why he ignored Mrs. Todt was always a mystery. It wasn't as if Lilah Todt was an ugly duckling. I'm mean...she wasn't glamorous. Just very attractive. She was from back East. I think she wasn't prepared to be married to such an ambition man as John Todt. You know she killed herself right there in Todt Hill House, don't you?" Charles said.

"No. I didn't," Richard answered.

"Oh yes sir. She just put a bullet to her head. Todt thought she left the ranch. He refused to allow her to be buried in hallowed ground. So, her grave is somewhere on your property still. Didn't even allow her a proper funeral. Just kind of put her in the ground and forgot about her," Charles said.

"Do you know where in Todt Hill House she killed herself?" Richard asked.

"In one of the bedrooms...the one she was hoping to use as a nursery," Charles said.

"Did the Todt's have children?" Richard asked.

"Not to anyone's knowledge. Seems as if he just lost interest in family altogether the minute he got rich," Charles said.

When they completed their business, Richard prepared the office for its closing. The idea of Lilah Todt being buried somewhere on his land. He would take the jeep he bought and see if he could find it. Charles Forrell said it was "somewhere on the property." Richard wanted to know where.

Richard bought an old jeep the previous summer so he and his wife and son could take in all of the land they actually owned. Richard and Karen just never got around to it. Now, Richard knew he had a reason to.

The following weekend, he backed the jeep out of the big, old barn. He started to drive through the trail that could now barely be seen. As soon as the snow began to fall lightly, he stopped the vehicle and attached the convertible cover to keep warm.

He drove for nearly five miles into the deepest part of the now untamed woods. He saw a trail that veered off to the northeastern part of the property. He decided to explore the area...on foot if the snow forced him to.

He found the old cabin's remains. Only the planked floor, now bleached white from the elements, remained. He saw that the cabin must have been quite a secluded site in its. He understood now why John Todt would want it built so far from the homestead.

He got back into the jeep and continued to trek northward. This area was oddly devoid of trees and was mostly flat, badlands. The wind here was wild and unmerciful. He noticed that there was only one large tree still standing like a huge monument. A grew stone slab at the foot of the tree caught his eye.

He found the grave marker of Lilah Todt!

He brushed the coating of snow from its surface. The marker sunk into the ground so that it appeared quite uneven. By the time he returned to the jeep, snow was falling heavily and the wind began to howl. Richard hurried back to his jeep. He hoped he would make it back home before the snowstorm got worse.

He was wrong. Snow began falling heavily and he could barely make out the trail ahead of him. He drove more slowly so as not to miss the trail back to the house.

About four miles from the house, Richard was in a complete white out.

How on earth can a storm like this turn so evil so quickly, he wondered.

His tires were now caked with snow and he had to admit he was scared. He'd never ventured this far from the house. He knew there could be bears and mountain cats anywhere in the thick woods. He drove on until he thought he saw something moving in the distance.

He stopped his vehicle and watched. There were five mounds as tall as statues covered in snow. He swore they were moving.

He got out of his vehicle for only a moment. The snow mounds blocked the trail ahead. He walked closer to them. To his shock, he could see the mounds were as tall as he.

"This can't be. These were not here when I drove here earlier. What in the world is this?" he muttered aloud.

He got back into the jeep and decided to see if he could drive around them. By the time he looked out of the windshield, the snow mounds were closer and were about five feet apart. He could swear they were no more than two feet apart when he first saw them. 

What on earth is going on here, Richard wondered.

He turned the key in the jeep's ignition. It sounded as if the battery was low. 

"That's not possible!" he yelled.

Inside, he felt an inexplicable growing fear.  He decided to put the vehicle in reverse and get away from this place. He gunned the engine and backed away from the snow mounds.

He felt relieved when he returned to Todt Hill House. The snow fell for the next two days. 

Karen peered out the window at breakfast that morning. 

"Richard? You never did say whether or not you found that grave of Lilah Todt," Karen said.

"I found it. But...uh...Kar...I know you will think this is nutty. But, something really weird happened while I was out there," Richard said.

"Really? And what was that?" she asked.

"I drove on past the grave marker of Lilah Todt. I hadn't gone far past the grave when I must not have noticed the odd pile up of snow. I swear to you they were as tall as I am," he said.

"I don't understand. How could snow pile in mounds like that if there was nothing to support them? Were they statues and you just didn't see them?"

"No. There were five of them all in a row. At first, they were not more than a few feet apart. By the time I got back into my jeep, they were like a barrier about five feet apart."

"Richard, that's not possible."

"I know. But, that is what I saw. It's like they were moving closer and closer." 

Richard had all but forgotten this incident until early spring when he drove into town for supplies. Two older men were sitting in front of the store on wooden benches. They nodded toward Richard as he entered the store.

"Who are those two men?" Richard asked the store owner, Josh Lampton.

"Those two? They are the grandsons of Eli Falconer and the sons of Tom and Cole Falconer...old timers. You're the new owner of Todt Hill House, aren't you?" Josh asked.

"Yes, I am."

"Well then, you know the eerie tale of the Snowmen of Todt Hill ranch, don't you?"

"The snowmen of Todt Hill ranch?" Richard asked.

"Yes sir. Some swear the ghosts are out there in that north acre. Some say they've seen the ghost of Lilah Todt prancing near her grave in the heat of summer," John Lampton said.

"That's silly superstition. Probably, they saw nothing more than heat vapors," Richard said.

"As you say. But, others have accidentally been in those woods up there on your property...before you bought it of course. You know it was fifty years before Todt Hill House and that ranch had occupants. Don't you?" 

"Yes. You say they saw snowmen on the north acres?" Richard asked.

"Well sir, that's what they said. Seems about twenty or so years ago, a small band of young boys went out to that part of the ranch one winter. They got lost just past the Lilah Todt's grave marker. Ran scared screaming they saw five live snowmen out there, they did." 

"You can't be serious. You know how young boys make up stories," Richard said.

"Weren't just young boys. When the sheriff went out to investigate, he swore the same thing. Five snow men. Funny thing though, old Sheriff Martin said those snowmen were following him. He got on his horse and rode off," Lampton said.

"I...uh...It probably just snow that the wind carries into those woods and forms what looks like statues," Richard reasoned.

He glanced at Karen. Her expression was one of shock. 

"Richard, you said you saw the same thing," Karen said.

"I said I saw five mounds of snow," he answered.

"Well, you can ask the Falconer brothers sitting out there about what you saw. They'd know better than I whether it was the ghost of their grandfather and fathers," Lampton said.

"C'mon Karen. We have to get home," Richard said.

As they left the store, Richard paused to glance at the two elderly men on the bench.

"I am told you are the grandsons of Eli Falconer?" Richard queried.

"That we are. You've seen 'em, haven't you? Can tell by the look on your face before you walked into Lampton's store," Cole Falconer said.

"What are you talking about?" Richard asked.

"Our granddaddy and daddies' ghosts...You've seen 'em up there on that north acre in the woods," Tom Falconer said.

"I only saw five mounds of snow," Richard said.

"Yep...Granddaddy and our daddies are roaming about up there. You know the story of the Snowmen of Todt Hill ranch?" Cole asked.

"No. Old John Todt was in a fine fetter and lost most of his fortune. He ran out of fuel and that old mansion of his was colder than an old grave. He went looking for our daddies and granddad to fetch him enough fuel. It was always kept in a woodshed. But, Old John Todt was on foot when he tried to find it in the white out that afternoon. Time he got to Granddad's cabin, he was covered over in snow, insisting all three Falconers fetch him fire wood. Well, Granddad wasn't one to deny old Todt anything, seeing as how he'd gave him and our daddies’ jobs and a place to live. They all five never made it back to Todt Hill House. Lost their way and died where they stood, frozen to death," Tom Cole said.

"Weren't they buried when they were found?" Richard asked, trying to trap the brothers into answering a common sense question.

"Course. They were buried on Todt Hill ranch under that huge elm tree where John Todt is also buried. Seemed the fitting place for them to be for their final resting place. Don't think they are resting in peace though. They seem to roam about whenever there's a bad snow storm. It's like...as if...their ghosts are covered in snow and then when it warms up, those five snow men disappear. You seen 'em, haven't you? You saw the snow covered ghosts," Tom Falconer said.

"Who besides your grandfather and daddies died out there?" Richard asked.

"Our brother Albert. He was in the middle between Tom and me. In those days, there was a woman old John Todt took a likin' to, Lavinia Rhodes. She was a wild woman and...our mother. We came back to this town after she left us in an orphanage," Cole Falconer said.

"Your mother was a lover of John Todt? Are you his sons, then?" Richard asked.

"No sir. Our daddies are Cole and Tom Falconer just like we said," Tom answered.

"Our mother kept at our daddies and when she got with child, kept it a secret from our Granddaddy for fear he'd tell old John Todt about us," Cole said.

"She handed us over to the orphanage in Helena soon as we took our first breaths. Wasn't till we were grown up we found out who our daddies were. Cole here was first to be aged out of the orphanage. I was next a few years later. We worked in Helena at whatever jobs we could find. Then, we went off to war. When the war ended, we caught up with each other back here in Chinook. Kind of like we were meant to, you know?" Tom said.

"Well, that's a pretty amazing story. But, we have to be getting back home," Richard said.

"Just stay out of the woods in winter or who knows what terrible thing might happen if you see the Five Snowmen of Todt Hill Ranch again," Cole Falconer said.