Prologue

25 November 1869

The Peterson Ranch, St. Mary’s Mission, Montana

Misty pressed her hands against the wooden door, her heart racing in her chest. She could hear her baby sister, Lily, sobbing on the other side of the door.

“Will!” she yelled, turning to face the man standing by her side. “Will, let me in!”

Her cousin stood a good foot or more taller than her, and his pale lips pulled up at the sides into a smirk. As he towered over her, his thin, dark hair fell over his forehead and his murky green eyes shone. A shiver travelled across her skin.

He’s enjoying this.

His hands were buried in his pockets, and in one of them was the key to the room before them. He’d locked her eighteen-month-old sister in there with the window open in the dead of winter.

“Will, please, let me in,” she begged.

Misty looked from one of his hands to his other, weighing whether it was worth trying to get the key by brute force. She was shorter than him, but she was clever, and she’d been working on a ranch for most of her life in some capacity or another—she wasn’t weak.

“That’s not going to happen,” Will said, his voice nonchalant.

Misty’s eyebrows furrowed. Her heart continued to pound in her chest, causing a lump to rise in her throat. She eyed his pockets once more and noticed that one of his hands was in a fist, whereas the other was flat. She fought away a small smirk of her own. She thought about it for a moment.

What’s the best way to do this? Should I just grab his arm and pull it out? Maybe if I catch him by surprise it’ll work. I’ve just got to be quick.

“You know what you’ve got to do for the key, Misty,” Will said with a shrug. “It’s not hard.”

He was right—Misty knew exactly what he wanted her to do. But it was not happening. He wanted them to marry, and he’d been clear about that since he’d appeared on her ranch earlier that month. He’d told all of her ranch hands that they were engaged to be wed. Then he’d fired half of them, despite her best efforts to stop him, and had brought in his own men, vicious, unruly men, who did more smoking and drinking than they did ranch work. She’d had to do more since he arrived than ever before. She was mucking out horses, cooking twice as much—her life had just gotten harder and harder.

A pit opened in her stomach, and she suddenly rushed toward him, closing the space between them. She reached both her hands out toward his arm and grabbed it. Her hands wrapped around his forearm before he could react, and she started to pull at it. Pretty quickly, Will’s mind caught on, and he jolted back.

“Get off me, you mad woman!” he yelled, pushing her shoulder with his other hand.

Misty refused to let go, her grip on his arm tightening. No matter how hard she pulled, his strength was greater than hers, and his arm remained still. She refused to give up, though. Lily was the only real family she had left, and he had locked her away. The sound of her uncontrollable sobbing fueled Misty’s anger, and she held on to his arm as tightly as she could.

“Will, come on, she’s only a baby!” she yelled.

Tears stung her eyes as she yanked at his arm one more time and pushed forward against the hand he had holding her back. She could feel the pressure of his hand digging into her shoulder, but she didn’t care. With as much force as she could muster, she struggled against him one last time. It was no use.

“I said, get off me.” Will’s voice was gravelly, and she looked up to see that his eyes had darkened and the smirk had been wiped from his face. “Release me, now, Misty, or else.” His eyes glared into hers, and she felt her heart stop in her chest.

She’d never heard his voice sound like that. Nor seen him like that. He looked like an animal; his eyes had lost all color, and she could hear him breathing heavily. Before she could let go, he moved his hand from her shoulder and grabbed her wrist.

He peeled one of her hands off of his arm. Seconds later, he shoved her in the shoulder with the heel of his hand, hard. She toppled backwards, letting go of his wrist to try and catch herself. She landed in a heap on the floor, smacking her hip on the wood. A singular black curl came free from her pins and landed across her face. She quickly tucked it behind her ear.

Ouch. She winced. This is my house, darn it. How can he do this to us? In our own home? Her shoulder started to throb.

“Will, please,” she said, calmer and quieter than before. His black eyes continued to stare down at her. They were only getting darker. “Please let me in. My sister needs me.”

“Your sister is just fine,” he replied. His voice was venomous and sharp, and she physically recoiled at the sound of it.

“She’s sobbing, Will.”

“She’s a baby. They do that. Keep trying to get that key from me, and I’ll give her something to cry about.”

The hair on Misty’s skin stood on end, and her muscles tensed involuntarily. She shook her head and gritted her teeth. She’d already lost her mother and father. She was not going to let the vile man before her take Lily away, too. She was all that Misty had.

“What do you want from me?” she asked.

“You know what I want from you.”

Misty flung her head back with a sigh.

“Let me in there and we’ll talk about it,” she said.

And the answer will still be no, she thought to herself. It will always be no.

“Not a chance. I’m not stupid, Misty,” Will said. “I know if I do that, you’re just going to say no and the whole wedding I have planned for Friday will be a waste of my time and money.”

Misty sighed and rubbed her eyes. She slowly started to get up from the floor, concerned that too fast a movement might warrant another shove from Will. She couldn’t help but think that actually, she disagreed entirely; he was in fact stupid. Just apparently not enough to fall for that.

“Will, please.”

Lily’s sobbing continued, and the sound rang in her ears. She pursed her lips and exhaled, trying her best to keep her cool. Her entire body was tense, and she could feel a pool of anger bubbling away in the pit of her stomach.

“There’s only one way that I let you in there,” Will said.

“And what’s that?” she asked.

“You agree—and promise—to turn up at the wedding on Friday.”

Not a chance.

“And if I don’t?”

There was a moment of silence.

“If you don’t come to the wedding, I’ll leave your beloved little Lily in there. You’ll just have to listen as she cries and cries until there are no more tears left.”

Misty gasped.

I never should have left her alone in my room, she thought to herself. I’d just wanted to get her something to eat. I didn’t know he’d do this…I should’ve thought about it. He’s desperate—he’ll do anything to get what he wants.

Will was awful, she knew that, but never in her encounters with him thus far had he threatened something. He’d always just made life difficult: making chores harder, firing her staff, spreading rumors around with the locals that she was struggling and that he was stepping in as a knight in shining armor… This was something else altogether.

“All right, all right—fine.”

“Fine?” he asked. She watched as his eyes seemed to return to normal as he relaxed his brow.

“I’ll marry you. I’ll turn up on Friday—just please, let me in. Let me soothe her.”

Lily’s sobbing seemed to worsen again, and Misty couldn’t help but wonder if her little sister knew that she’d just agreed to marry an atrocious man.

“Will?” Misty said. “Come on, I’ve agreed. Let me in.”

He tilted his head quizzically and stared at her for a moment. Misty’s palms began to sweat.

What is he doing?

“Will—” she began,

“Good girl,” Will interrupted her. An uncomfortable chill went down her spine. She was not a girl. Nor a dog that he could speak to like that.

“Are you going to let me in?” she said, her voice craving with desperation.

There was no noise for a second, and then Misty watched as he turned and took the key from his pocket. Slowly, as if to prove a point, he slid the key into the lock and twisted it. Before he could even take the key out, Misty rushed to the door, pushing the handle and racing over to her sister. Lily was lying in her crib, where Misty had left her, and her sobs filled the room.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here now,” she said. “Your family is here.”

“I’m family,” Will said, standing by the door.

“You are nothing to her,” Misty replied.

“I’m going to be her legal guardian as of ten Friday morning.” He smirked. “And I’m her cousin.”

“You. Are. Nothing.”

Misty huffed and picked her little sister up from her crib. Cradling her close to her chest, she stormed out of the room. She carried her sister along the dark wooden hallway and out onto the staircase that led down from the bedrooms. Walking through the downstairs foyer, she rushed into the kitchen. She hoped that if she started making some supper, the heat from the hob would warm Lily through. She was still crying, and Misty stroked the back of the poor girl’s head gently.

“Please stop,” she whispered, looking down at her sister’s beautiful blue eyes. “I know that was horrible, I know, but you’re with me. I won’t ever let you get hurt,” she said. “I will always protect you.”

Lily kept crying, her face pink and her eyes fiercely bloodshot. Misty let out a shaky breath and walked over to the pantry. Opening it, she scanned the space for something that the two of them could eat.

The shelves were almost empty; with it being winter, there was not much coming in from the ranch. Her father had always managed to keep the pantry full, even when the seasons changed, but managing the ranch alone, she’d barely remembered to plant some vegetables that would last the winter, and even then she’d only managed to plant peas, carrots, and cabbage. She huffed and tightened her grip on Lily.

In that moment, she felt weak. She’d been working tirelessly since her family died. It had been her father’s ranch, and now its responsibility fell to her, just like the responsibility of caring for Lily. Looking at the barren pantry, with her sister crying on her hip, she felt like she was letting them all down.

She’d kept the ranch going—the horses were well, the crops had grown and were planted ready for the next season—but she hadn’t made a profit, not really, and she hadn’t been able to keep Will from waltzing in and acting like he owned the place. Her father would hate the idea of him even being on the ranch, let alone trying to own it…and yet, from Friday, if she kept her promise, it’d be his.

She shivered at the thought of marrying Will.

What am I going to do? she thought to herself. There are only two people I trust left, and one of them is a baby. She shook her head. Ever since Will had arrived, she’d been racking her brain for ways to stop his plan. Misty wasn’t going to give her father’s ranch to him without a fight.

But short of continuously saying no to his advances, her plan had not developed much. She’d arranged to meet with her family’s lawyer, to see what he had to say, and she’d considered trying to reach an old friend of her father’s, Sam, but they’d not spoken in years. He didn’t even know that her father had a family. She didn’t know for sure that he’d help, but he was the only other person she could think of who would have reason to.

Closing the pantry, she turned to the counter behind her. There was a loaf of bread that she had made that morning and a small jug of milk from the cows.

“Happy with milk?” she asked, looking down at Lily, who was still sniffling.

Stepping over to the counter, she grabbed the baby bottle from a small cabinet beneath the counter and carefully filled it with milk. Placing the bottle in Lily’s hands, she let the young girl feed herself and reached for a knife to cut the bread. She sawed at the loaf, eventually cutting off a small slice. She picked it up and began to nibble on it, watching Lily closely as she drank.

“Well, I’m glad you’re not crying,” she said quietly.

Once she’d finished her slice of bread, she walked back through to her bedroom, with Lily sipping milk peacefully in her arms. She reached the room and pushed the door open with her toe. She rushed over to the window and slammed it shut, then reached for a blanket to wrap Lily in.

“There we go,” she whispered. “Is that better sweetheart?”

She began to rock Lily, humming a lullaby.

“There we go,” she said softly. “No more tears.”

She hoped that keeping Lily warm would be enough to keep her healthy—the last thing she needed was for her to fall sick.

“We’ve got to keep you healthy,” she whispered. “I won’t be able to stop Will if I have to look after your snotty nose,” she said with a smile. “I’m starting to think the only way to really stop him is to leave for a little while until I figure something out. We’ll find somewhere else to go, you and me, until I can sort all of this out. What do you think?”

Lily yawned and snuggled into the blanket wrapped around her.

“Yeah?” Misty said. “Me too.”

She thought about it, as she watched her sister. There was nothing that she could do from within the ranch. None of the men left were hers, and they had all been poisoned against her. Will had shown he was not above putting people in harm’s way to get what he wanted, and she wasn’t about to let either Lily or herself get hurt. As much as the idea of leaving the ranch in his hands made her stomach turn, it also seemed to her to be the only feasible way of stopping the wedding. He couldn’t marry her if she wasn’t there, and it would give her time to work with her lawyer, or if they couldn’t come up with a solution, to find her father’s friend.

Never thought I’d be running away from this place, she thought to herself with a sad smile.

Standing up and taking the empty milk bottle from her hands, Misty placed Lily back in her crib. She tucked her in, covering the little one with a large patchwork blanket that their mother had made.

Then Misty stood up and grabbed a large saddle bag from under her bed. She’d arranged that morning to go and visit her lawyer, John, to see what she could do to protect her land. She was smart, and she knew Will wanted nothing to do with her and Lily. All he wanted was the ranch. She also knew that, if they managed to get rid of him, he wouldn’t be the last.

She opened the saddle bag and pulled out a brown envelope full of the deeds for all of the land her father had passed down to her and her father’s will. Checking it was all there, she replaced it in the bag and rushed around the room, finding other important items; her journal, her sister’s favorite toy, her favorite book, her mother’s amulet that she had always held dear, her Bible, and an old flask that her father had carried around with him almost every day.

She thought about packing another bag with clothes and blankets, but she needed to travel light in order to keep it subtle. She could always find more clothes, so long as she had the things that mattered.

Quietly, she sealed the bags back up and slid them under her bed. She pulled the comforter down so that it hung over the edge of the bed, concealing the bags perfectly. Checking the small pocket watch her father had gifted her not long before he passed, she realized that in her efforts to get Lily back from Will, she’d lost track of time. She was due at John’s office in twenty minutes.

Oh no, she thought to herself.

Grabbing Lily from the crib, she rushed out of the bedroom and over to the coat rack. Swapping Lily from one arm to the other, she pulled a jacket on and buttoned it carefully. She turned her head over her shoulder to check for Will, but there was no sign.

He’s probably gloating to himself in the guest room, she assumed.

Misty pulled the front door open and crept out of the hall. She darted across the porch and down the stairs, heading toward the barn as quickly as she could. Her breath hit the air and smoked, creating little clouds of steam like a train as she walked. Entering the barn, she grabbed a saddle, reins, and a bit for her mare, Mistletoe. She loaded her favorite charcoal black mare and jumped on.

“Let’s go, Mistle,” she whispered to the horse, holding Lily tightly to her chest.

She flicked the reins, and Mistletoe burst into action, galloping away from the barn and toward the woods that bordered the ranch. John’s house was only on the other side of the woodland, and she could find her way in the dark if she had to, so she took the journey to try and calm herself. The last few days had been hectic, and she’d had enough of having a racing heart and spiraling mind. As soon as they started riding, Lily fell asleep against her bosom.

“You’re going to get through this,” Misty said aloud to herself. “For you, for Lily, and in memory of your parents—you’re going to manage.”

She took a deep breath, watching the steam swirl in front of her as she exhaled. A small smile appeared on her face.

Before she knew it, the end of the woods was in sight, and so was John’s house. She pulled Mistletoe into a trot and steered her out of the woods and back onto the worn-down path that led toward John’s small home. The house was quaint; it was big enough for John and his wife, and that was all it needed to be. She’d always admired that he did not take more than he needed. He wanted for nothing and seemed to be more than content with all that he had.

She approached the house and led Mistletoe over to a small post by the side of the building. Holding Lily tightly, she climbed down from the horse and walked to the door. She knocked delicately.

Behind the door, Misty heard John shuffling from his office to the front door. Clearing his throat, he pulled the door open. He wore a pair of dark black trousers and a crisp white shirt, buttoned to the top and tucked into the pants. At the collar of his shirt was a black bow tie that sat slightly wonky.

“Misty,” he said with a smile. “Right on time. Come on in.”

She smiled and stepped in beside him, grateful to be out of the cold. “Thank you.”

“Come, come,” he said, turning on his heel and leading her down the small corridor that split the house in two.

She’d been to the house a handful of times in the past, so she knew precisely where they were going, but nonetheless, she followed him closely. He opened a door at the back of the house and stepped inside. She followed him through to his office, and he walked over to a large wooden chair behind an equally elegant desk.

“So, what is it exactly you needed to go over, Miss Peterson?” he asked, taking a seat and resting his elbows on the desk.

“I need to know that I can keep my ranch as mine,” she said. “As ours.”

“It is yours,” John said, tilting his head quizzically.

“I know, but Will, my cousin, he’s insisting—out of nowhere—that we marry. And he’s not the only man who is suddenly showing interest in the ranch. In me.”

“Ah, yes.” John nodded. “I was waiting for this to happen.”

“Well, what can I do about it?” she asked. “I’m not going to marry him. I’m going to run away—my father’s old friend…I think he’d help. He helped my father whenever he needed him. I think he’ll help me get rid of Will. But what about when another one comes along?”

“I’m glad you’re not marrying him,” John nodded. “Your father would roll in his grave.”

“I would rather meet my grave,” Misty said with a laugh. “He’s absolutely vile.”

“Agreed,” he nodded. “Fortunately, your father did a good job at keeping the ranch safe. Even now that he’s gone. There is only one copy of his will and one copy of his deed—both of which you have. That means nobody can break in here and take them, or get a copy from anywhere else. So long as you keep those documents safe, you’ll be just fine. Unfortunately, I can’t do much beyond that. There’s nothing in the law against trying to marry someone, and so unless he tries to falsify the deeds or your marriage certificate—neither of which I’m convinced he’s smart enough to do—I can just tell you to keep those deeds to yourself and wish you well.”

Misty thought about the saddle bags in her bedroom, and her stomach twisted. They were hidden, but for how long?

“Are you sure? There’s nothing else they can do to get it? And nothing that you can do?”

“Marrying you is the only other option, so as long as you can avoid getting wed, you’ll be safe. Your ranch will be yours.”

“Oh, thank goodness.” Misty let out a sigh. “I was so worried. I know exactly where the papers are, and exactly how to keep them safe. I must get home, though, in case Will finds them.”

“You should keep them with you all the time,” John said. His black brows pulled together, and he looked at her with a stern expression. “Don’t let them out of your sight.”

“I won’t,” she said. “I promise.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“I think that’ll be all, for now. I’m sure I’ll be needing you again soon—nothing seems to go smoothly anymore.” She let out a small, cynical laugh.

“I’m sure it’ll get there again,” he said with a small smile. “When are you off to find Sam?”

“This week,” she said. “So I probably won’t see you until I return.”

“Then I wish you the best of luck, Misty. You’re more than capable of handling this; your father raised you well.”

A warm feeling spread across her chest, and she smiled. Not many people spoke to her about her father. They all seemed to think that she’d break into tears at the mention of his name. In reality, though, the mention of her father fueled her. It reminded her of exactly what she was fighting for: his legacy—her future and Lily’s.

“That means a lot, John,” she said. “Thank you. For everything.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” he said. “Now, get back home before that awful cousin of yours finds those documents. Remember, they’re yours. Keep them and hide them.”

“I’ve got it,” she said. “They’ll stay on my person at all times.”

John nodded and stood up. He walked over to the door of his office and opened it.

“Then I shall see you soon,” he said.

“As soon as I can,” she replied with a small nod.

He led her through the corridor and back to the front door. Misty moved gently in the hopes of keeping her little sister asleep against her chest.

“Get home safe,” he said as he opened the front door.

She nodded and stepped out into the cold. The air sent chills down her spine, and she tightened the swaddle that was keeping Lily warm. Climbing up onto Mistletoe’s back, she pulled the reins and steered her back toward the woods.

How do I keep the documents on me at all times? she wondered. A bag won’t do, surely. And my skirts don’t exactly have pockets… She let out a sigh. I’m going to have to sew a pocket into my skirts, aren’t I?