Prologue

Kansas City, Kansas, 1883

Lillie smoothed out her black dress, glancing about the front porch of the home she had spent the last eleven years of her life. The porch swing creaked in the Kansas breeze, and her mind flashed to all the evenings she and Tiffany, her cousin, had swung together, giggling and dreaming up a better life than the one they had.

Its slow motion could convince a person there was a ghost there, enjoying the setting sun, looking across the rolling hills of the prairie. Taking a deep breath, Lillie pushed the old front door open, her boots making a slight thud as they hit the hardwood floors.

Her chest ached, knowing this would be one of the last times she ever set foot in the old farmhouse. There were so many awful memories reverberating off the plain white walls of the meager little farmhouse, but it hadn’t been all bad—Tiffany had made it bearable.

And now she’s gone.

Everyone is gone.

Tears spilled from her cheeks as she made her way to their shared bedroom. Her aunt and uncle had kept a tidy house—only because they forced her and Tiffany to keep it that way. However, it had become more disheveled when the three had grown sick with consumption. Lillie had done her best to tend to them all, but eventually it just hadn’t been possible to keep up with it all. She swiped the tears from her honey-brown eyes, gently opening the door.

She took in their two small beds, one on each plain wall, topped with the quilts they had made a few years ago. There wasn’t much about the room that stood out. It was bare, extremely bare, and to many it may have looked like no one had spent hours in there. The bareness of the room at one point hadn’t stood out to Lillie, but not it did, making the whole house seem that much lonelier.

There were a few pictures hanging on the wall, framed drawings that Tiffany had sketched, mostly of the surrounding farmland—consisting old barns and rolling fields.

Back when we were counting the days to when we could leave.

Her chest tightened, her mind taking her back to those days. They were miserable in their own way, her aunt battering them with harsh words and working them late into the nights. Somehow, Tiffany had made the best of every situation, the stars in her eyes making the dreary life they lived a bit less dreary. Losing her aunt and uncle was terrible, but Tiffany—Tiffany was all she had.

Now I’m alone.

And have nothing.

A distant cousin of her uncle inherited the house and small farm, and Lillie had received word a couple of days prior to her family’s funeral that she was to be out by tomorrow morning. It had left her panicked, but thankfully the local church had offered her a place to stay as long she helped with chores.

At least that won’t change.

Ever since her father had died when she was seven, leaving her in the care of her aunt and uncle, Lillie had only ever done chores—and never good enough, either. Worry pressed at her mind as she thought of her future at the church, and she hoped more than anything her deeds would be good enough to earn her keep. The future without her best friend and cousin by her side looked bleak, and if Lillie let herself ponder it too much, she’d find herself wishing she had grown sick as well.

But somehow, I was spared.

Just like the earthquake.

Sitting on the edge of her own bed, which consisted of nothing more than an old rickety metal frame and straw mattress with worn cotton sheets and faded quilt, Lillie’s mind took her back to the night of earthquake—the night she lost her father, the only man who had ever shown her love. It had just been the two of them since she was born, having lost her mother at childbirth.

She wrapped her arms around herself, sobs exploding from her chest as the terror of the night re-invaded her mind. Lillie slid to the cold hardwood floor, trembling as the sounds of falling rubble crashed around her in her mind, the feeling of dust creeping on her skin.

Please stop.

She shook her head, covering her ears with her hands, begging for the memories to go away, but ever since she lost everyone else, the death of her father had intensified again. The nightmares and hallucinations she had fought off for years were suddenly back, torturing her any time she was alone, or a familiar loud noise struck out. It felt like she had been hit by a train, the pain and sorrow washing over her like the ocean, sucking her in deeper and deeper. Lillie struggled to get her breath under control, the sobs echoing throughout the bedroom as she choked out ragged breaths.

“Breathe, Lillie,” she cried out to herself, saying the same phrase Tiffany used to comfort her when she was having an episode as a little girl—back when she had just moved in with her mother’s sister’s family.

Even though the phrase evoked another pang of pure pain, rousing the need for Tiffany more than ever, Lillie was still able to bring her body under control, the terror slowly leaving her body. Wrapping her arms around her knees, she sat in the silence of the room, calming herself down.

Once her breathing was under control, she slowly pushed herself to her feet—there was no use in wasting much time since she didn’t have long to gather her things. Lillie pulled a small carpet bag from her closet and glanced around, distracting herself from the grief threatening to swallow her by focusing on what she should take along with her. Despite living in the house for eleven years, she still didn’t have much. Whatever money the family made went to her uncle’s drinking habit, barely leaving them afloat most of the time.

Her uncle was cruel and mouthy; though he’d had moments when he was sober that he wasn’t so terrible, they’d been far and few between. Tiffany and Lillie usually hid away in their bedroom when he returned from work, starting arguments with their aunt, who was harsh in her own ways. In all the ways her uncle let loose with the drink, her aunt made up for being strict with her and Tiffany, never allowing for them to play with the other kids that lived in the area. They were to be prim and proper—and do everything.

They worked from sunup to sundown, doing whatever her aunt demanded they do, leaving them to stay up late at night to do anything fun—not that they had much fun. Her mind flashed with the memory of their old treasure box, filling it with things they found around the farm and town.

The two had come across it one day while they were walking along the outskirts of town, headed back to the small farm. It must’ve fallen out of a passing wagon; they had found it laying on its side, having busted open, blank pages scattering across the field around it.

A smile crept across Lillie’s face as she thought of the box, thinking of how they had dreamt that they would one day fill it with treasures outside of the unhappy farm, exploring the unfound west, like others they had heard of. She pushed a strand of dark brown hair from her eyes and scanned the room, wondering where Tiffany had hidden it.

She hadn’t seen the box in a year or so, and part of her had thought maybe their aunt, Margie, had found it and thrown it away—that wouldn’t have surprised her. Though had Margie done that, Lillie was almost certain she would’ve made a big scene about it, just to incite a bit more hurt.

Lillie opened their closet back up and shuffled the few pairs of shoes out of the way, looking in the far dark corner of the dusty area.

Nothing.

Biting her lip in thought, she stood on her toes, searching the top shelf, running her hand along the dusty wood. She pulled down a few loose papers of Tiffany’s drawings and, even though it wasn’t what she was looking for, paused to admire her cousin’s artistic abilities, running her fingers along the sketch of flowers and trees she had created. Lillie carefully folded them, placing them in the bottom of the bag before returning to her search.

She leaned down, looking beneath both beds, and sighed in defeat when it also came up empty. The box had to be somewhere, and the thought of not taking it with her made her heart ache. There wasn’t much of sentimental value, but that box was as close as it got. Lillie walked around to Tiffany’s side of the room, pausing at her dresser. It still felt like an invasion of privacy to go through her cousin’s things, and she swallowed hard as she pulled the top drawer open. There were only three drawers to sift through.

And the first two held nothing by clothing.

As Lillie ran her hands through the scarves and random pieces of material Tiffany had shoved into the third drawer, she caught her breath as the sight of dark, carved wood appeared in the back right corner. She brushed the rest of the material to the side before pulling it out, a lump growing in her throat as she ran her fingers along the flower carved into the pine wood.

She sat down right there, crossing her legs, and placing the box in her lap. She flipped the small latch, pushing the box open. A smile tugged at her lips as she sifted through it, finding odd-shaped rocks, bracelets, and other things the girls had picked up over the years. However, a small newspaper ad caught her eye, sticking out of a folded-up piece of paper.

Lillie carefully pulled it out, the ad falling out as she lifted it into the air. She pulled it from the box, immediately noticing it was mail order bride ad. Her brow creased in confusion, as she had never remembered Tiffany mentioning anything of the sort to her. She read through the ad, noting that the location was in Elko, Nevada.

Was she planning to leave me?

The lump grew in her throat, and the sobs she had just recovered from threatened to return at the further abandonment.

Tiffany wouldn’t have done that.

Lillie chided herself for even thinking her cousin would do such a thing. They had always said they were in it together—and would get out together.

But she wouldn’t have blamed her for leaving.

Even if it meant Lillie was left to fend for herself.

Lillie unfolded the letter, her eyes scanning the words. The tears slipped down her cheeks as she read her cousin’s penmanship:

Dear Mr. May,

I am writing to you in response to your ad seeking a wife. I am quite interested and would love for you to write me back. I am from Kansas City and am well-versed in chores and the duties that come with living on a farm. I believe I would be able to help you and your two daughters. Also, my cousin and dear friend, Lillie, would accompany me, which would be additional help for your household and farm.

Please respond if you’re still in need of a wife and interested in my company.

Sincerely,

Tiffany Davon

Lillie wiped the tears from her cheeks, noting it had been written only days before Tiffany had grown ill with consumption. Lillie held the letter to her chest, yet again fighting off the urge to get lost in her grief. She forced a deep breath, reading the letter once more. Tiffany had been willing to risk marrying a stranger, just as a means to get the two of them free.

She was going to sacrifice herself for us.

And she wasn’t going unless I could go, too.

Her sobs echoed throughout the room, gratification mixed with grief nearly suffocating her as she cried, clutching the letter in her hands. There had to be something she could do as means of fulfilling her late cousin’s wishes of getting them out.

She wouldn’t want me to stay here, miserable.

Lillie reread the ad, sniffling as her mind brought a thought to light that startled her.

I could still go.

What do I have to lose?

The church isn’t a way of life—it’s merely a temporary solution.

And no one will be interested in me here, being a poor helpless woman living at the church.

Lillie hadn’t ever even considered marriage—not in the true sense. She and Tiffany had spent many hours deeply invested in romance novels and stories of knights in shining armor, riding up on their white steeds, rescuing the damsels in distress.

But Lillie hardly considered herself worthy of such rescuing, having been berated most of her life for never being good enough.

In all of her eighteen years, she hadn’t ever even caught the eye of a man, leaving her feeling unappealing and maybe even a little ugly.

Lillie let out a sigh, pausing for a moment to consider whether anyone would even want her once they saw her. Though, she had heard that mail order brides were much less sought after for their looks, and more for their ability to tend to the house.

And that is something I can do.

Heart pounding, she pulled a sheet of blank paper from the small stack in the box, and began writing a new letter in response to the ad.

This is for you, Tiffany.

We’re gonna get out of here.

Chapter One

Kansas City, Kansas, 1883

“You’ve received a letter,” a voice called from behind Lillie as she mopped the church floor, sweat running down her face. It was a scorcher of a day, and the church was stuffier than ever, the sun beating through the few stained-glass windows.

Lillie paused to wipe the sweat from her face and then turned to see the pastor’s wife headed toward her, holding up a small envelope. Her heart jumped at the sight, feeling a bit of joy for the first time in weeks since moving into the local church. She had sent her reply to the ad as soon as she had moved in, and had spent the first couple of weeks anxious, waiting for a reply.

But it hadn’t come.

So, by the start of the third week, she had found herself giving up hope, which also meant giving up the distraction it had served. Grief had come full force, making the days miserable and long, often ending with her crying herself to sleep.

“It’s from Nevada,” Martha said with a smile on her face. She was about the age of Lillie’s aunt, though much warmer and kinder. Her hair was grayed, but her eyes were bright and youthful. “Is this for the ad you replied to?”

Lillie’s cheeks flushed as she nodded, having confided in the pastor and his wife of her intentions, desperate not to be a burden. “Thank you so much,” she said, taking the letter from Martha. “I had given up thinking he would return my letter—I’m sure he received many,” Lillie added, her heart racing as she gazed down at the blocky handwriting.

It could be a letter of rejection.

The thought only caused more apprehension as she delicately opened the small envelope. Her eyes caught Martha, hands clasped, curiously watching as Lillie unfolded the crisp sheets of paper. If Martha hadn’t been so kind to her, Lillie may have asked for some privacy, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask for such a thing given that Martha and her husband had provided a much-needed shelter for her.

Lillie’s eyes scanned the words, her heart nearly leaping right out of her chest.

Dear Miss Davon,

I would be very pleased for you to join myself and daughters in Elko, Nevada. You can reach the town by train, though I am not sure how long the journey is. My ranch lays just outside of town, three-and-a-half miles to the west, to be exact.

You can follow the main road, and then at the first crossroad, go north for three-quarters of a mile. The ranch entrance is on the west side of the road. It is a simple log gate, surrounded by large boulders. The house is log-sided with only a front porch. There is a barn that sits to the northwest of the house with corrals. I believe those details should be sufficient for you to find it.

Please come as soon as possible.