Prologue

Riverbend, North Carolina

1874

“This ain’t no game for the faint-hearted, ya hear? I rode up on ole Mr. Saxon’s ranch last night. I snatched his best horse ’cause he couldn’t pay what he owed,” Louis Campbell’s familiar voice boomed, deep and husky from years of shouting, smoking, and drinking, and Dollie shuddered. “Any yellow bellies, this is your chance to make your escape. Any takers?”

The sound of men’s laughter drifted up the narrow staircase in response, and Dollie Moore gripped the doorframe tighter as bile pushed her throat at the sound of her tormentor’s voice. The saloon owner, Louis Campbell, had lorded over Dollie and a half-dozen other women for years, forcing them into prostitution and bolstering his business against their wills. The mere sound of his voice made her sick. However, if Dollie wanted to leave all this behind, she had to push those feelings aside. If she didn’t, the grand plan she and her best friend had made to escape would fail.

The cheerful tones of the piano playing a tune she’d heard all too many times turned her stomach further, and she pictured the men downstairs. A half-dozen of them would be gathered around the old, round saloon tables, cards in their hands, bottles of beer, and glasses of whiskey in front of them. Some would be smoking, if not most. Plumes of the biting tobacco smoke that ate into everything it touched would billow into the air as they played their poker games.

Come morning, Dollie and the other painted doves – a cutesy name Louis used to describe the women who made their living as prostitutes – would be tasked with cleaning the saloon. The price they paid for their weekly night off.

“Dollie?” Her friend Lisa hissed behind her, and Dollie spun. “Can we go?” Lisa asked in a shaky whisper as she hovered behind her. Her right hand was wrapped around a small blue stone dangling from a silver necklace. She held on to it so tight her knuckles popped white. Her friend, a lovely creature with hair that tumbled down her back in rich, blonde ringlets when not confined at the top of her head and eyes as blue as a mountain lake, looked frightened. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and her hands trembled – yes, her friend was more frightened than usual.

Dollie grabbed Lisa’s wrist and squeezed, hoping to encourage her, although she could not deny that she carried more fear in her heart. However, the plan to escape had been hers; therefore, she had to be strong and lead. And she would.

“Louis just gave his little speech, so yes. We can go. Do you have your carpet bag?” She glanced behind Lisa into the tiny room they shared. The space was only large enough for two single beds, which stood pushed up against either side along the wall with a dresser in the middle. A tiny window allowed a view of the tall building behind the Riverbend schoolhouse – and not much else. A candle still flickered on the dresser; otherwise, their room was dark.

“I do,” Lisa said and raised the small bag that held their belongings.

“Good,” Dollie declared with as much confidence as she could muster. “Stay behind me. Remember the plan. We go out the back, past the kitchen, then we take two of the horses tied to the hitching posts. We have to duck so they don’t see us out the window. Yes?”

Lisa nodded, but Dollie saw the quiver in her bottom lip. A sudden wave of doubt spread over Dollie. Was she making her friend go with her? Lisa had arrived at the saloon only a few weeks before Dollie. Like Dollie, she’d come here thinking she would receive an education as a teacher, only to find that she was to work as a prostitute for however long it suited Louis.

The horror of it had almost broken Dollie, and if it hadn’t been for Lisa, she might have thrown herself out of the window onto the spiked fence below. However, Lisa had seen her through – given her strength when Dollie had none.

Dollie still remembered the horrible first night spent with a client. She’d staggered back to their room above the saloon in pain, wrapped in only a sheet. She recalled collapsing onto the floor in a heap of tears, cursing her adoptive parents. They had let her get into this situation in the first place. Not on purpose, of course; they, too, had been deceived. Yet, she could not deny she blamed them.

Lisa had been there for her. She’d hugged her, made her tea, and helped her bath to wash the sweaty stench of the client who’d stunk like a brewery. Lisa fed her chicken soup to give her strength and settled her in bed. Lisa had been her lifeline. And over the years, Dollie had become Lisa’s, so much so that she’d devise a plan to save them both from Louis’ harsh treatment, which often included vicious beatings.

She’d come up with the plan to escape. She thought Lisa agreed with it, but now she wasn’t so sure. She’d also known it would have to be this day, the only day of the week when the men were occupied with something other than their worldly pleasures.

“Do you want to stay?” she asked Lisa, even though it was the last question she wished to pose today. She wanted out so badly she would have done just about anything to achieve this goal. But Lisa? To her great relief, her friend’s eyes widened, and she shook her head rapidly.

“No! Stay here? Have you lost your mind? I thought I would meet my maker the last time Louis beat me. I can’t stay here. I don’t know where we’ll go, but I can’t stay. Come on, let us leave,” she said with determination and stepped past Dollie into the dark hallway.

The friends walked quietly, their shoes in their hands so as not to make any noise. They passed the four other rooms where their fellow painted doves lived, two on either side. At the end of the hall, the floor plan split. To the left, where the rooms were, they met their clients – the ‘rooms of pleasure’ as Louis liked to call them – and to the right lay the staircase that led downstairs and into the backyard.

Dollie led them down that way as the sound of the revelers in the saloon’s main room grew louder. Then, she carefully opened the back door. The metal of the doorknob felt cold in her hand. It was only the middle of March and the nights were bitterly cold still. She pushed down the knob, and the door opened. Her blood almost froze when the hinges let out a horrid squeak, and behind her, Lisa gasped.

The sound was akin to booming thunder to her terrified ears, but she knew it was just a small squeak, no louder than what a mouse might produce.

They stepped into the backyard. The cold air instantly cooled Dollie’s hot skin, and she realized then that she’d been sweating. Large blue bedsheets of fine silk fluttered in the evening breeze, and her nostrils flared at the sight of them. As Louis always boasted, they were the sheets used for clients, the best one’s money could buy.

“I curse the day I first saw one of those sheets,” Lisa muttered. Despite the seriousness of their situation, Dollie let out a bitter chuckle.

“After tonight, we never have to again,” she reassured her friend. Together, they walked across the yard, pushing the horrid sheets aside as they turned onto York Lane. The street was narrow and dirty. The smell of waste and dust lingered, and she picked up her white dress so as not to soil it. Then, with Lisa beside her, they hurried toward Main Street. The hitching post where the customers playing poker tonight tied their horses was at the end of the narrow road they were on, right where it met Main Street.

Dollie’s heart thundered as they neared the post. Despite the lateness of the hour, Main Street was still bustling with activity. Men walked along the wooden sidewalks to the general store that was open until late, while a group of men sat under a large oak tree across the street, meandering. She gulped and pointed to the horses.

“You take the bay one. I’ve seen the man who rides her; he’s a bit of a namby-pamby fellow who rides her like he’s afraid of falling, so she’s gentle,” she said quietly. Lisa nodded, but her lips pressed together, and Dollie knew her friend was scared. She wasn’t an accomplished rider, and neither was Dollie. Still, they had to ride. Otherwise, they had no chance of escaping.

She wanted to utter words of encouragement but had none, too terrified of what lay ahead. Quickly, she untied the black mare beside Lisa’s. She was about to mount up when she caught her reflection in the bank’s window across the street.

Dollie shook her head. She looked like a child standing beside the large horse – no wonder she was not even five feet tall. Nevertheless, her small stature, feminine appearance, and striking black curls made her one of the most popular girls in the saloon, a distinction she would have foregone.

“Dollie,” Lisa hissed, and Dollie realized her friend was already on the horse. Quickly, Dollie undid the ties of her horse and mounted up. It had been years since she’d ridden her adoptive father’s horse, back home in Virginia, but she was surprised that her muscles remembered just what to do. She wasn’t a good rider and feared horses just as much as Lisa, but she knew she had to do this. She pressed her knees together as she took the reins and clicked her tongue.

The horse backed up and turned onto the road, where they instantly drew a few looks. They had to head east, down Main, to get to the forest running along the edge of the mountain range. It was the best way to hide and get to the villages that followed. However, they had to ride three blocks along Main, past the saloon, to get there. The other way would have led further into town, and they would likely be spotted that way. Once they cleared the saloon windows, they would be in the clear.

Still, she had anticipated that the men would be occupied with their game and not see them as they passed, but she hadn’t thought of the people on the road. Everyone knew who they were, dressed in white as they were – for Louis would allow no other clothing – it was clear they were prostitutes. And it wasn’t often that prostitutes rode on horses around these parts.

A lump formed in Dollie’s throat again as she looked up at the early evening sky. Glimpses of light still shone through, remnants of the day gone by. “We have to gallop,” she said. She’d hoped they could ride calmly through town without drawing attention, but that would not come to pass now. They had to be quick. She turned back to Lisa, who clung to the horse’s reins as if she were holding on to a bucket with her hands wrapped around it. Irritation swelled in Dollie because she’d spent days teaching Lisa to sit on a horse, hold onto the reins, and move it forward. Yet, it seemed fear had wiped away this new knowledge.

“Lisa, gallop. Now!” she called, but Lisa’s eyes were peeled into the direction of the saloon they were just passing, and when Dollie followed her gaze, her heart dropped.

There, sitting to the right of the closed window, was Louis. His body was turned to reveal his profile. Dollie shuddered at the sight of his protruding chin, which always carried a layer of reddish-brown stubble, no matter how recently he’d shaved. His nose competed with his chin, and his brown hair grazed against his broad shoulders. He might have been handsome were it not for the ugly soul contained within the attractive vessel.

The horse neighed beneath her, reminding her of their purpose. She withdrew her eyes from Louis and drove the horse into a gallop. “Come on, Lisa,” she shouted, and after a moment, the chestnut mare broke into a run behind her. However, before Dollie could breathe, Lisa’s voice broke through the air.

“They… saw… us…” she gasped as she rode.

“What?” Dollie called back, surprised at how difficult it was to speak while galloping.

Lisa didn’t have to reply; the sound of men storming out of the saloon and shouting after them gave her the answer.

“Stop them!” Louis’s voice carried above all the others. She glanced back and saw he’d exited the saloon and stood on the wooden sidewalk, his hands curled into fists. “My horse! Now! Get the hounds!” The words felt like the lashes he often inflicted on her back, and usually, his voice would make her freeze on stop with terror. Not tonight. Tonight, she ordered harder, faster – toward her future. Hers and Lisa’s.

“Faster,” she shouted to her horse and Lisa, and they dashed out of town and toward the forest beyond. Dollie leaned forward, feeling the wind whip into her face with such force that her hair came to lose from its confines and fell over her shoulders. Her white dress pressed against her body from the force of the wind, and when they entered the forest, a branch slapped her face so hard she felt the skin rip. The telltale smell of blood – a mixture of rust and iron – entered her nose, but she could not stop.

“Lisa?” She dared to look back only for a moment, but it was enough. Her mouth fell open as she saw the flickering of torches behind them – many torches. Louis and his men were coming after them, closing in at a rapid pace.

Her friend had fallen back by several paces and clung precariously to her horse’s neck as she slipped sideways.

“Hold on to the horse,” she hollered, but the sound of a shotgun cut off her words. Behind her, Lisa let out a bone-shattering yelp, and Dollie’s breath caught as she saw her friend disappear behind the bushes, having fallen from her horse. Dollie turned forward, her mouth opened and her eyes wide with terror.

What should I do? Should I stop and look for her? But they’ll catch us both. She’d want me to press on, wouldn’t she? Oh my goodness, what am I to do? What have I done?

She had insisted on this escape, she’d planned it – and now her friend was… what? Was she dead? Shot? Louis would see to it that she was if she wasn’t dead. And yet, Dollie knew if she stopped, she’d find the same fate – or worse.

No, she had to go on. She had to escape. When she was free, she could find out what had happened to Lisa and free her some other way. Maybe hire someone to help. Maybe.

Dogs bellowed, and a shotgun fired again, but this time, it came from farther away, and Dollie comprehended that she’d turned – or rather, the horse had.

They were deep in the forest. Branches continued smacking against her face, arms, and upper body, but she didn’t care. She had to put distance between them. Dollie didn’t know how long she’d ridden. Still, the moon stood brightly in the sky when they emerged from the forest. The snow-peaked mountains in the distance glowed so majestically that she would have marveled at it if she hadn’t been so exhausted. Instead, her heart raced, and she found it impossible to sit up.

The emotional and physical strain of the day had whipped her completely, and she dropped forward against her horse’s neck. The mare panted, and Dollie knew they could not go on much farther, or they’d both drop dead.

But where would she go now? What would she do? They’d planned to ride to a village some distance away and hide in an inn before pressing on come morning. They’d looked to find a new home, she and Lisa, where they could start over, but they had not planned that far ahead. They hadn’t planned on having to gallop, and they hadn’t planned on one of them getting shot.

Dollie let out a muffled scream as her eyes filled with tears at the thought of her friend somewhere behind her, shot or dead.

“No,” she told herself. “I have to ride on…” Yet, she knew she could not. She was exhausted. Her legs ached from riding, and her face burned from the whips of the branches. Her eyes flickered shut and opened at intervals as the horse walked slowly forward. She kept her eyes closed for longer and longer each time, and her thoughts drifted into a terrifying and welcoming blackness.

“Miss?” A deep, warm voice invoked an image of hot, steaming tea that came to her, and she opened her eyes. There, before her, was a shadowy figure of a man, looking up at her with gorgeous brown eyes. “Do you need help?”

Dollie wanted to reply in the affirmative, but the moment she sat upright, the entire world spun. The last thing she was aware of was how her entire body slipped off the horse – directly into the man’s strong arms.

Chapter One

Willow Creek Ranch

Black Mountain, North Carolina

March 1876

“Oh,” the voice called into her darkness, and Dollie attempted to open her eyes. However, it was almost impossible to do so as her eyelids appeared glued shut.

“Miss? Are you awake?” The voice carried the wisdom of a long life, and when Dollie managed to open her eyes, she saw a kind face peer down at her and knew at once it belonged to the voice. She wasn’t sure why, but the round face with the high cheekbones and the fine lines that ate into the ruddy skin looked just like the face that went with a melodic, soft yet determined voice. Her black hair was pulled back into a severe bun, and Dollie saw white and silver streaks running through it.

“Where… am…I?” her heart pounded. Was she back at the saloon? Had Louis caught her after all? The soft mattress she was laying on had allowed her body to sink into it, and the warmth of the blanket that covered her body indicated she’d been here a while. Beyond that, she could not see much other than a bank of three windows at the other end of the darkened room. Two windows had been closed with heavy curtains, and the third only allowed streaks of sunlight to enter.

Dollie had managed to ask her question, but the words were a chore to get out, and as she spoke, she felt her lips crack with dryness. The woman, dressed in a plain green blouse with gray buttons that ran down the length of it, and a blue, sturdy-looking skirt, shifted, and her slender arm disappeared out of view.

“Here, have some water,” the woman said, holding a plain metal cup to her lips. Dollie forced her body up, but a burning pain ripped through her eliciting a gasp. It was only then, when she fell into the pillows again, that she understood the sound she’d heard, the little gasp of pain that had woken her not been produced by a stranger but by her.

“Now, now,” the woman said, and a chair screeched across the floor. “The doctor said you probably pulled a few muscles when you fell off the horse, in addition to the other injuries to your face. Gotta be careful. Let’s set you up. Nathan, come on here and help me.”

Nathan? Who is Nathan? Dollie’s mind roared awake at once, and the memory of her escape rushed back to her. She and Lisa had run. Lisa! What had happened to her? Where was she? And where was Dollie?

A man stepped into view behind the woman, and instantly, Dollie lurched forward, ringing the intense pain. “No, no… I don’t want to go back,” she exclaimed, the panic echoing in her ears. She shrunk back and pulled the blanket to her chin as a terrifying shudder went through her. Men only ever came to her for one reason – to harm her. Surely, this man was no different. She had to get out. But how? Where? Her eyes darted around the room. There was nowhere she could go. The man and the older woman were blocking the door, and Dollie wasn’t sure she could make it to the windows.

“Child, you’re safe here, hear?” The woman said and stepped into Dollie’s line of sight, blocking her view of the man. “I’m Ella Wilson. This here is my son, Nathan,” she said and motioned for the man. “We mean you no harm. You’re safe here on our ranch.”

Ranch? How did I wind up on a ranch? I can’t remember anything except for…That man!