Prologue

Bear Creek, Montana, 1878

Grace Mercer leaned back against the buckboard, casting her eyes over the passing landscape. Mountains rose in the distance, and wispy clouds wound around their snow-capped peaks like a scarf. The road home was little more than a track carved into the mountain by hundreds of wagon trips passing by.

Grace’s father, John Mercer, kept his eyes glued to the road. He navigated over deep ruts that carved through the hard-packed dirt and avoided the sharp rocks that stuck out from the ground like teeth waiting to catch their prey.

The recent rains had turned the ground into a muddy, eroded mess, making the journey twice as long as usual, the road difficult to navigate. As the Mercers’ carriage swayed uncertainly, Grace did her best not to notice how close they were to the edge.

“As grateful as I am for the rain chasing away the drought we were worried about,” Eleanor Mercer, Grace’s mother, said, “I do sure hate what it’s done to these roads.”

Her auburn hair shone in the sunlight, the shade of which Grace had inherited, along with her fine, porcelain features. Grace’s eyes, though, with their sharp hazel color, were from her father.

John grunted and kept his head facing right ahead. “Tell me about it.”

Grace’s brother, Eli, with his chubby cheeks and unruly hair, snored soundly in their mother’s arms. His lashes fluttered against his skin, and he sucked on his thumb as he dreamed. At three years old, he could be a terror who disappeared in the blink of an eye and always seemed to conjure up mischief.

He let out a huff in his mother’s arms. Eleanor gazed down at him adoringly. She sat Grace’s father in the front seat, while Grace sat in the back with all the supplies they’d bought from town. Grace smiled to herself as she reached forward and caressed Eli’s cheek. The crate of tinned beans she sat atop dug into her legs with the strain, but how could she not fuss over her baby brother?

“Careful now,” Eleanor warned with a smile over her shoulder. “If you wake him up from his nap, he won’t stop crying.”

Grace quickly pulled her hand away, unwilling to deal with the consequences of an interrupted nap.

“Stop moving so much,” John ordered, glancing back at Grace with a grim pull to his mouth. “We should all stay very still, at least along this patch. It’s tricky enough in good weather.”

“Sorry,” Grace muttered, crossing her arms over her chest. She looked around at the rolling hills below them. Pine trees and sagebrush dotted the landscape like decorations.

The leather on the seat crackled beneath her father as he steered the cart. The family’s buckboard was an old, practical thing that had been in the family ever since they arrived in Montana, but it had gotten through this pass safely plenty of times.

“We’re nearly home,” Eleanor said comfortingly. “I’ll make griddle cakes for dinner tonight. How does that sound?”

The promise of a rare treat brought a smile to Grace’s lips. She nodded eagerly. Her mother returned her smile before turning around again. Eli yawned in his sleep and buried his fist in Eleanor’s shawl.

Strangers in town often mistook Eli for Grace’s son. While Eleanor was still a striking woman, the lines around her eyes gave away her age. Little Eli had been a surprise, as everyone had assumed that Eleanor was past childbearing age.

Thankfully, they’d all been proven wrong. Grace gazed at her brother, wondering what life would be like when he grew up. Would she be married and have a family of her own by the time he was old enough to take over the ranch?

“Rain’s been good for the grass,” John said thoughtfully, looking up at the clouds building up in the sky above. “Gives the cattle a lot to eat.”

“They’ll be fatter than ever when it’s time to sell them.”

Eleanor’s cheerful optimism was quickly chased away by John’s dark mutter. “That’s if we sell them quick enough. The bank might not wait.”

Grace shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She hated it when her father brought down the whole mood with his negative speech. They’d just had a lovely, rare day in town, something they couldn’t afford to do very often. She’d seen some of her friends, and she was still basking in the glow of the attention she’d received from the local deputy—Will Carter.

He was easily the most handsome man in town. She blushed as she remembered how he’d walked straight up to her and asked how she was doing. They’d enjoyed a pleasant conversation before her father called her away. His interruption still irked her. She was already twenty years old. How would she ever find herself a husband if her father still treated her like a child?

“We’ll manage, John,” Eleanor said, resting a gentle hand on her husband’s arm.

John clenched his jaw as he guided the horses down the path with practiced ease. The horses’ hooves clacked against the trail as they crested the hill. Here, the terrain grew all the more dangerous. The road grew narrower. A jagged wall was on one side, while a steep drop lurked on the other.

Unease crept through Grace as the carriage tilted to one side. Loose stones skittered down the slope.

“Easy there,” John murmured as the horses whinnied in fright.

“John?” Eleanor asked in concern.

“Give me a second,” John said, his tone clipped.

Grace’s mother was only asking for assurance. Grace could see her knuckles turning white on Eli’s blanket with anxiety, and she fought to tamp down her bitterness over how gruff her father was. Still smarting from the way he’d ordered her back onto the buckboard in front of Will, she couldn’t understand why he couldn’t be more patient. Why couldn’t he have let her stay a little while? They hardly ever got to go into town. Who knew when she’d see Will again? Why couldn’t he just reassure them all now that he had things under control? He was her father; it was what he was supposed to do.

A loud crack split the air. Everyone jerked to the side as the front wheel splintered.

Grace screamed in fright, but the sound was lost as the horses whinnied. They reared, their front hooves striking the air. As the carriage jerked for the second time, Grace soared through the air.

Everyone but her had something to hold them steady. For a moment, she was weightless, free. Then she hit the ground with a thud, bouncing off it. Her ears rang while her vision flooded with stars.

Nausea rolled through her as bile rose in the back of her throat, and she had to swallow it down. She groaned as she rolled to her side, struggling to catch her breath. The impact had knocked the breath clear out of her lungs.

She lay there, stunned for a moment before another sound registered through the ringing. Screams. Grace lunged upward and stumbled toward the twisted wreckage of the buckboard. One of the horses lay frighteningly still, while the other screamed in fright, tugging forward. Bit by bit, the carriage was jerked forward.

She was torn, fight or flight completely paralyzing her as she trembled and looked, wide-eyed, between that crawling horse, until—

“Grace…”

Crying reached her ears. In an instant, she ran to the buckboard. Her family. Eli. Pain radiated through her shoulder. She ignored it as she pushed a few pieces of splintered wood out the way. The pungent scent of blood and sweat filled the air. Her brain blocked it off, preventing her from even being able to imagine the devastation in the wreckage.

The buckboard creaked dangerously as it tilted to the side, adding to her urgency. She had to get to her family before the thing went crashing down the side of the hill.

Grace found her father first. He was pinned beneath the wood, his face pale and strained. She was about to try and pull him out when someone called her name again.

“Grace!”

She looked over to see her mother a few inches away. Her face was pale and drawn, her eyes deathly wide as her dress soaked red. Grace couldn’t quite comprehend what was happening. Her dear mother was wedged between the broken seats, her body curled protectively around Eli. She had absorbed most of the impact from the crash, and Grace’s stomach gave a violent lurch.

“Take… him…” her mother gasped.

Eli’s face was scrunched up, and his mouth fell open, letting out a deafening wail that echoed off the mountains. His cheeks were turning blood red as snot bubbles popped around his nose.

“Grace, please,” her mother begged, spurring Grace into more urgency. She had to file everything away, focus on reaching for her brother. That’s all, she told herself. Everything is okay. Just take your brother. Although her body jerked violently from her nerves and panic, she angled herself so she could scoop Eli up easier. She’d start with her little brother, then pull her parents out. It took all her strength to keep her fear and anxiety out of her voice.

“Come here, baby boy.”

Eli’s eyes blinked at her in bewilderment as Eleanor pushed him into Grace’s arms. He fussed, trying to get back to their mother, his fists outstretched. Grace gathered him in her embrace tightly as another dangerous creak sounded through the air.

She held her kicking, squirming, screaming brother to her chest as she backed away. Put him down, she told herself, trying to order herself through the raging panic swirling through her. Somewhere safe, somewhere for now. I just need to get them, I just need to—

The carriage pitched and lurched as the horse kept trying to get to freedom.

“No!” Eleanor cried.

Panic raced through Grace, every second a lifetime.

“Ma!” She raced toward the buckboard, her heart beating frantically in her chest. Before she could reach it, the vehicle heaved and fell down the side of the road.

There was a terrible scream, followed by crashing and shattering. Then nothing. Dust curled into the air as the storm clouds drew closer.

“Mama!” Eli shouted, working himself into a full-blown fit. “Mama!”

Grace fell to her knees, staring at the edge of the cliff, her breath wheezing out of her. Eli screamed, not knowing the tragedy. All he knew was that he wasn’t in his mother’s arms. As if she moved through wet mud, Grace held back her tears, staring as despair and grief cracked through her. She trembled from head to toe as she staggered back in a crouch towards her brother. Dust clogged her lungs, and her eyes watered from the sting of the heavy cloud.

Once it settled, she was left on the empty trail holding onto her baby brother for dear life. All at once, the landscape was muted, dull. A crushing emptiness grew and expanded, threatening to push everything else out. Her life would never be the same.

Chapter One

Bear Creek, Montana, 1880

Sweat trickled down Grace’s back as she wrangled a fence post into the ground. Her hands stung from twisting metal around the poles, and her skin burned beneath the unforgiving sun overhead. Chewing the inside of her cheek, she strained with all her might to pull the wire around the pole.

The fence has to be tight and sturdy to keep the cattle in. She had been struggling with cows escaping for the past few days, and she couldn’t keep chasing after them.

Grace’s horse, Stardust, snorted behind her, alerting her to an approaching visitor. She looked over her shoulder to see her neighbor, Amos Thorne, riding toward her.

Grace rolled her eyes and continued working.

“Howdy, there,” he said, calling out as he stopped near her.

Grace swallowed her rising annoyance as she finally got the wire around the pole. She secured it tightly before turning to him and craning her neck to address him.

“Good day, Mr. Thorne.”

Amos was a tall man, easily clearing six feet. In normal circumstances, he towered over her, but astride his horse, he loomed even higher.

“How many times have I told you to call me Amos?” he said smoothly. “You’re no longer a child, Grace. There’s no need to be so formal with me. We’re neighbors, aren’t we?”

“Sure are,” Grace said, crossing her arms over her chest. “How can I help you, neighbor?”

Amos narrowed his eyes at her. His ice-blue eyes cut right through her, cooling her down despite the heat and putting her on guard. He had broad shoulders and a powerful build, carrying the confidence of a man who always got what he wanted. She was uncomfortably aware of her small stature compared to his size.

His thick black hair was neatly combed beneath his wide-brimmed hat. It seemed as though it was permanently attached to his head. Still, she could see the streaks of silver at the temples, giving away his age that was almost double her own age of twenty-two.

Although she’d grown up around him, she could count the number of times she’d seen him without his hat on one hand. Amos was always dressed to the nines with crisp shirts, dark vests and polished boots. Perhaps he thought it made him appear distinguished. In truth, it was a dead giveaway that he hardly did any work himself, preferring to let others carry the weight of his ranch on their backs while he reaped the benefits.

A thin mustache snuck across his top lip. When Grace was younger, she’d remarked to her father that it made him look a bit like a ferret. John had roared with laughter and slapped his thigh.

The sudden, unbidden image of her father laughing, something he’d barely done at all in his later years, caused her throat to swell with emotion. Two years had passed since her parents’ death, and it hit her when she wasn’t distracted enough: that she’d never even hear her father’s dark grumblings again, let alone his laughter.

“I just thought I’d come past and see if you’d given any further thought to my proposal.” Amos leaned forward in his saddle.

Irritation flashed through her. “I must apologize, Mr. Thorne, I thought I had made my answer clear when you first asked. Thank you for your kind offer, but I cannot marry you.”

Amos pressed his lips into a thin line.

“Grace! Grace!” Mercifully, she was saved by the call of her brother. She turned to find Eli running over, his chocolate-brown curls bouncing as he ran toward her, holding a toad aloft in his chubby fist.

He was a stocky little boy now, with short legs and cherubic red cheeks. Eli panted as he reached her side, immediately grabbing hold of Grace’s skirt.

Concern seeped into her bones as she reached out and took hold of his hand, grubby with the telltale of playing where he shouldn’t. “Eli, darling, were you playing by the creek again?”

Eli’s eyes widened as the toad ribbited in response. His mouth pressed into a pout as he shook his head, but everything else said otherwise.

“How many times have I told you not to go out there alone?” Grace’s brows pinched in irritation and worry.

“But look at my toad!” Eli countered, holding it up in all its slimy glory.

“Don’t you see the adults are talking?” Amos asked, frustration clipping his voice.

Eli looked at Amos with clear dislike before Grace stepped in front of him.

“He’s just a boy,” she told Amos. “He likes to show me what he finds. No harm in that.”

But Amos sneered at them both, as if there was every bit of harm. “The harm lies in the fact that the boy clearly needs a strong father-figure,” Amos said simply. “With one, he wouldn’t be running off alone, or interrupting conversations as you are letting him. Don’t you see what you’re denying him?”

Eli poked his head around Grace’s skirt and stuck his tongue out at Amos.

“I’m managing perfectly well on my own,” Grace said firmly, raising her chin defiantly.

Amos snorted and raised his eyebrows. “That’s not what Mr. Hudson from the bank told me. Apparently, you defaulted on yet another loan.”

A sick pit opened up at the bottom of Grace’s stomach as she swallowed hard. “How’d you know that? That’s personal information.”

“I have my ways,” Amos said with a wink.

“That ain’t right—”

“I’ll give you a little more time to consider my proposal,” Amos interrupted her with a smirk. “Who knows? Perhaps being homeless will teach you to be a little more reasonable.”

Before she could respond, he dug his heels into his horse’s sides and rode off, leaving a trail of dust that threatened to choke her.

***

“What you need is a man,” Rosie Carter said, shelling peas at the kitchen table.

Rosie and Grace had been friends since the first day of school almost two decades prior. In another life, they might even have been sisters-in-law if Grace hadn’t turned down a proposal from Rosie’s brother, Will. Once upon a time she’d have never dreamed about refusing the town’s deputy but ever since her parents’ death…

Despite everything that had happened in the past two years, Rosie had remained Grace’s closest friend. Other people had drifted away as Grace assumed the responsibility of taking care of her father’s ranch—the responsibility she had once thought would be Eli’s, grown-up and taking over. In that version of her life, her parents had lived for far longer than they had, and Eli had naturally taken over when he was old enough.

But it hadn’t happened that way, and Grace had gone from being a pleasant young woman to a hardened, exhausted shell of her former self. It turned out that not many people wanted to be friends with the new version of Grace that had emerged the day she staggered out from that mountain pass, grief already grooved into her face.

Now, she had at least a decade of managing the ranch before Eli was able to.

“Not this again,” Grace groaned, rolling her eyes as she mashed potatoes. “You know, a lot of folks have been telling me today what I, or Eli, need. What we need is—”

“To listen,” Rosie teased. Behind them, Eli sat at the table, making whinnying noises as he played with his wooden horse. “You’re under a lot of strain.”

“Gee, am I?” Grace asked sarcastically, raising her eyebrows.

“Don’t be rude.” Rosie threw a pea at Grace.

“We’ve talked about this before,” Grace said, shaking her head. “I can’t risk getting married. What kind of man would want to take on this money pit? And if they did, would they want to hand it over to Eli when he’s old enough?”

Eli looked up at the mention of his name and beamed at her. Grace ruffled his hair and placed a kiss on his forehead.

“You don’t need to get a local fella,” Rosie said, rolling her eyes. “I heard about this arrangement where people place an ad in the paper.”

“You mean correspondence marriages?” Grace asked with a grimace. “I don’t know… Anyone could answer those! What if some low-down dirty snake comes sniffing around here?”

“Yeah, but you might find someone who’s willing to help you run this place,” Rosie pointed out. “Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone helping you out?”

“I have you,” Grace said. “And I have Sam.”

“Sam is a boy who comes by twice a week.” Rosie shook her head. “He’s a ranch hand, not a partner. Look, obviously you need someone who will let you call the shots around here. You can make him sign a contract agreeing to forfeit any rights to the ranch. That way you’ll have someone to rely on and protect Eli’s inheritance at the same time.”

“The ranch is mine!” Eli smiled, patting his chest. He’d snuck up beside them and poked his head around Rosie, trying to dive into the food preparation.

“It sure is, little buddy.” Rosie pinched his cheek, and he waved her away with a frown.

“Someone would have to be awfully desperate to agree to that sort of contract.” Grace shuddered at the prospect of wading through responses to such an advertisement. “Would I be able to rely on someone like that?”

“You never know what could happen.” Rosie shrugged. “You’re desperate; they might be desperate. Can you really judge them for following something you’re also forced to do? Bad things happen to good people. Sometimes all they need is a break.” She paused, her eyes softening. “As do you.”

Grace chewed on her bottom lip as she considered Rosie’s proposal. It would be nice to have some help, but she couldn’t guarantee that anyone decent would even respond. She simply had too much on her plate to deal with anything more.

She turned back to preparing dinner. “Thank you for the suggestion, but I don’t think I need to resort to that just yet.”

Rosie sighed but thankfully dropped the subject.

***

Later that night, after Grace tucked Eli into bed, she went to sit by the fireplace. Her body ached as she stared at the flickering flames. This was the only time she ever had to herself during the day.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t enjoy it. Her muscles were tightly wound, as if ready to run away at a moment’s notice. While her eyes were on the fire, her mind was on the stack of bills on the mantlepiece.

She’d endured two terrible shocks in the past two years. The first was her parents’ demise that catapulted her into adulthood. The second was the discovery that her family’s ranch was neck-deep in debts.

No wonder her father had always been so on edge. For so long, he had teetered on the edge of losing everything. That weight had been passed onto Grace. She had kept things going for the past two years, but in the back of her mind she knew she was only prolonging the inevitable.

What do I do?

Grace leaned her head back on the couch and clenched her eyes shut. Amos’ words from earlier that day crept under her skin and lodged in her heart. Unless she did something drastic, she would lose everything.