Prologue

Ranger’s Peak, Wyoming

1850

The wind outside the train and the baby in Estella’s arms were both howling. She could do nothing for the terrible winter weather and even less for the child.

“Hush, Cody,” Estella whispered, her voice thin and cracking. She held him close to her body and rocked him. He refused to be soothed, his cries growing louder and more needful. He needed to be fed, which was the one thing she couldn’t do for him.

Estella wasn’t Cody’s mother.

Glancing around the cramped interior of the rumbling train car, Estella saw no one was even looking in their direction. She’d received many dark glares at the beginning of the journey due to Cody’s frequent and loud wails, but that was hours ago now, and everyone must have committed to ignoring her.

Or they aren’t ignoring us. They’re just caught up in bigger problems, Estella thought.

She looked out the frost-covered window at the harsh landscape, the driving wind sending sheets of snow across the hills and valleys. With the sky so overcast and dark, visibility was lowered further until it was impossible to see for any distance. She could pick out only the vaguest impressions of houses and trees amidst the rolling white drifts. Anything out too far past the train tracks was lost in the whiteness.

Estella had known she was taking a risk on this journey in the midst of one of the harshest winters the region had experienced in years. She just hadn’t expected the situation to get so bad so quickly. The train had become stuck for several hours due to the snowstorm, necessitating the workers and able-bodied passengers to get out and dig the tracks out of the snow. Some of those who assisted still hadn’t warmed up after spending time out there. The inside of the train was frigid even through Estella’s many layers, and she sympathized with those shivering men, their lips blue and faces scraped raw from ice crystals flying in the wind.

Cody fell silent abruptly. Estella’s heart pounded in the ensuing silence, and she checked the baby, fearing the absolute worst. If they had come so far only for this to be where their journey together ended, she didn’t know what she would do. She would have nothing left. She would exit the train and go walking in the storm until the cold claimed her.

Cody’s small, pale face was pinched, his eyes shut. His chest rose and fell with short, rapid breaths. Estella adjusted the blankets she had him wrapped in, ensuring he was as warm as he possibly could be. Her heart was still racing, as this was no restful sleep Cody was having. He had cried out all of his strength and was now limp against her.

Every muscle in her body was tensed as she held him and looked out the window. Every extra minute they spent trapped on this train was a minute that the baby suffered. Guilt clawed at her from the inside, wounding her. Not for the first time, she doubted this plan she had made. How could she have ever believed this was going to work?

What if Cody didn’t make it to their destination?

But she’d had no other choice.

Her hand had been forced.

Estella had been getting along well enough in the tailor’s shop she took over from her late father. She had skilled hands and had spent many, many days assisting her father before he and her mother died, and she was able to keep the business afloat on her own. That she had only herself to care for meant few expenses.

That had all changed when her cousin, Ada, had come to her, seeking assistance after falling pregnant out of wedlock. Ada’s father—Estella’s uncle—Luther, had forced her out, leaving her with no one else to go. Estella took her in and gave Ada a job doing small tasks in the shop, though her cousin never developed much proficiency with needles and threads.

When Ada took ill late in her pregnancy, Estella cared for her as she would a sister. And she had been the only one there when Ada gave birth, the doctor never arriving. Though Estella had never been involved in any other deliveries, the signs were obvious that Ada’s was going wrong. The process took too long. There was too much blood.

In the end, Estella had been left clutching a blood-drenched bundle, huddled over the still, white form of her beloved cousin, Ada’s last words ringing in her head.

“His name is Cody. Please protect him.”

The whole train shuddered, and Estella broke out of her memories. As she sat up, she thought she saw Ada on the other side of the window somehow, looking as haggard as when she had died. Her black hair was tossed about her head, strands sticking to her sweat-covered face. Her features were drawn and bloodless, her lips gray.

Estella blinked, and it was only her own reflection showing her just how tired and aged she looked, stress adding over ten years to her twenty-one. Rather than black hair, hers was dark brown hair but unwashed and oil-slick greasy, and there were heavy shadows beneath her cornflower blue eyes. Her frown had carved deep furrows on either side of her chin, and her brows were so constantly furrowed together that they might soon become one.

She didn’t look like herself.

Perhaps it was for the best. She was about to start a new life. She wasn’t Estella, the seamstress, any longer.

She was Estella, the traveler, soon-to-be rancher’s wife.

All around her, the other passengers were stirring as the train continued to jitter and groan. The brakes squealed, and Estella recognized the sound from when they quickly had to stop or risk derailing when the snow was blocking the tracks.

“What’s happenin’?” she said aloud. “Why are we stoppin’ again?”

One of the other passengers spoke while adjusting his hat on his head, pulling it down lower to cover his ears. “We be there, I think. Ranger’s Peak.”

Estella realized he was right. The snowy landscape outside no longer whipped by so quickly, and the train was slowing rapidly. Through the white haze, she caught glimpses of dark, clustered buildings with smoke going up from every chimney. Spots of wan orange lantern light glowed, fragile bits of warmth and visibility.

Estella shifted her sore and aching legs as the train continued to slow, preparing to stand after being cramped up on the wooden bench for so long. With a final heave and a jerk, the train stopped at the station. A conductor entered the car, ushering everyone toward an exit through which icy, biting wind was entering. Estella grabbed her bag and joined the jumble of others shuffling off. The wind stole her breath, raking right through her layers and turning her bones into icicles.

Cody shivered uncontrollably against her.

Another conductor stood outside the train, helping to assist the passengers as they dismounted into the snow. Estella gripped his arm and felt his strength steadying her as she stepped down.

“Careful now, lass,” the conductor said, words streaming in a white plume from his mouth. “Keep yer head above the snow, now.”

The teasing comment on her short height would have made her smile if she had been able to feel any part of her face. The cold was turning her into an immobile sculpture, freezing her features into a fixed mask. All she could do was blink to indicate she had heard the conductor’s words, and even then, her lashes nearly froze together.

Every bit of strength she had went into making her legs move. She tried to walk where others had already broken the blanket of snow upon the ground, but the cold was the worst, and there was nothing to be done about it.

Lifting her head, she saw the town was like a painting, as unmoving as dabs of paint upon canvas. The only sounds were the crunching footsteps of her fellow passengers moving off and the delicate tapping of ice crystals striking various surfaces: the ground, the trees, and the sides of closed-up businesses.

Where is he?

Estella stopped and turned around, straining to see the person she had come all this way to meet.

Apparently, while she was pregnant, Ada had been exchanging letters with a rancher, making plans to move to be with him. After her death, Estella had written to the man herself, explaining that Ada had died and that she would like to come in her stead. She felt that this was the only way to take care of Cody. She couldn’t do it by herself. They needed a man, a family, to provide for and protect them.

That man was supposed to be here to pick her up. But given the train’s delay, Estella feared he had already left. She had no money to get a room at an inn or buy food at a tavern.

Her heart sank as she prepared to go door to door, asking absolute strangers for assistance.

A voice rang out, as loud as a gunshot in the wintry stillness. “Estella, over here.”

Estella gasped and spun, and a short distance behind her was a wagon drawn by a thick-haired dun gelding. A man sat on the bench, holding the reins with one hand. He gestured for her to come with the other hand.

That must be Christopher Baldwin!

No one other than the rancher would know her name here, so far from home.

Knowing she was nearly at the end of this terrible journey gave her the strength to rush to the wagon, kicking snow the whole way. Christopher got down from the bench, and Estella saw his face for the first time.

“Y-you aren’t Christopher Baldwin,” she stammered, stumbling back.

In his letters, Christopher had described himself as twenty-eight, with medium-brown hair and very dark brown eyes. This man before her was nearly twice that age, his hair fully gray and his eyes as pale blue as a high summer sky.

“Ayuh, I ain’t.” The man looked down at her and gave a small, slight smile. Ice clung to his mustache and beard. “Abe Hudson. I’m the sheriff ‘round these parts.”

“Mr. Hudson.” She was shaking all over from the cold, struggling to think. “I was supposed to meet someone else.”

Had she been tricked? Had this man been lying to Ada and then to her to get her to come and be with him?

“I know. I’ve been writin’ them letters in Christopher’s stead. I’ll bring you to him.” Abe Hudson suddenly looked from her face down to the bundle wrapped against her chest. His thin, pale lips pursed together, and his eyes widened. “Seems like we both got somethin’ we didn’t know about the other. What you have there, Miss Armstrong, is an issue.”

Estella’s face burned. Her frozen fingers clenched, forming halfway into fists; half was all she could manage. “This is Ada’s son. She didn’t mention him?”

“No.” Abe rubbed his face with his gloved hands. He pulled in a deep breath and lifted his head. “Well, what’s done is done now. I’ll bring you to Christopher, and we’ll see this sorted out. It’s a bit of a ride to his ranch. Best we get started now.”

Abe moved around to the back of the wagon and stood there, evidently waiting to help Estella climb in. She hesitated, torn between common sense and the need to see this journey through to its end. Truly, she had no idea if this man was telling the truth about his identity, and it would be more than a little foolish of her to get in his wagon.

Cody stirred and whimpered, a tiny, fragile sound that broke her free of the binds of her indecision. There would be a time and place to work through all of this, but that time and place was not right then, right there.

Estella went to stand by Abe, and he gave her his arm to boost her up, then placed her bag in with her. “There’s blankets there,” he said, “with hot potatoes wrapped up inside. Keep your hands warm.”

“Thank you,” Estella whispered.

Even if he was a stranger, he seemed kind.

Estella crouched down in the back of the wagon and felt it beginning to move as Abe drove the dun horse. She immediately wrapped the blankets around herself and Cody. The hot potatoes within radiated warmth, and she eagerly tucked one near Cody and held another in her hands. The warmth was almost painful on her skin, shocking even through layers of fabric and gloves.

The ride was long and rough, with little to hear except for the wheels turning and the horse breathing. Estella closed her eyes, feeling her exhaustion in every muscle and bone. Worse, the smell of the potato was awakening her own hunger within her. She swallowed down the saliva that rose in her mouth and huddled more around Cody. She wouldn’t eat until he had, and he was far too young for solids, which meant they would both be waiting.

“Just a little while longer,” Estella whispered.

Every time her doubts rose again and her control wavered over that bouncing wagon ride, she said it again, until it became like a prayer.

Several times, the wagon stopped, and she would think they had arrived, and then the horse would start moving again at Abe Hudson’s shout. With the conditions being what they were, she imagined he was having difficulty finding his way. That gave her a new worry: that they might get lost and be mired in the snow. Would Christopher Baldwin come looking for them?

Estella had so many questions about the rancher, including why the sheriff had been writing letters for him. She was about to raise her voice to ask when the wagon came to another jolting halt. She expected them to start moving again, but then she heard Abe’s voice and saw he was looking at her from the rear of the wagon. He had his hands up to help her down.

They must have arrived.

Estella climbed down with the sheriff’s help, landing in a large pile of snow that almost reached her knees. Through the snowstorm, she saw buildings: a house and what looked to be a few barns. Lights burned inside the house, pressing a warm glow against each window.

“Come on, now.” Abe had to shout to be heard over the wind. “Quickly.”

With every stumbling step, she felt the remnants of her old life falling away, like a reptile shedding its outgrown skin. Abe pulled the house’s front door open, and she emerged into the glorious, bright warmth of her new reality.

The house was small and neat, with hand-hewn furniture, but she hardly had time to look at anything as Abe ushered her into the sitting room, where a fire was blazing away. Estella cast aside the snowy, damp blankets and her soggy outer coats, then did the same for Cody so they could both feel the fire more acutely. The pleasure of finally knowing warmth after nearly having forgotten it almost brought her to her knees. It was all she could do to stay standing there, her eyes closed.

And then she heard the arguing behind her.

She turned.

Abe Hudson was facing a rather tall and broad-shouldered younger man. The firelight picked out tones of amber in the younger man’s sandy brown hair. His eyes were like burning coals, blazing with anger as he jabbed his finger against Abe’s chest over and over again to punctuate the point he was making.

“I can’t believe that you would betray me like this,” the younger man rumbled. “Bringin’ these abandons here. Thinkin’ that I’ll be carin’ for them. You must be drunk, Abe.”

Abe spread his hands. “I ain’t had no idea she’d be bringin’ a baby. Weren’t the original plan. But what’s the harm in it?”

“What’s the harm in it?” The other man’s voice rose even more. “You think I got the actual to take care of two more people?”

The sheriff seemed hardly bothered by the shouting that was making Estella flinch with every word. “As your friend, I think this is the best thing for you.”

“You’re an interferin’ old man! You don’t get to decide what’s the best thing for me!” He turned away and saw Estella watching them. His mouth twisted into such a fierce frown that he would have frightened a bear away. “You can’t stay here. I don’t know why you came, but you got to leave.”

Estella rocked back on her heels as realizations came at her like attacks, striking her without mercy. This man was obviously Christopher Baldwin. The physical details fit too well for it to be anyone else. Why didn’t he know she was coming?

But she knew the answer to that. For some reason or another, the sheriff had written all those letters to Ada without telling Christopher that he was doing it. She didn’t know why that was, and it didn’t really matter right then. There was something much more important to do than solving that particular mystery.

She couldn’t let this man throw her out of his house.

“Mr. Baldwin,” Estella ventured.

“What?” he snapped, impatient.

She flinched back at his sharp tone, astonished that he would speak to her in such a manner. He made an impatient gesture, urging her to talk. She swallowed hard and said, “You can’t just throw us out! I don’t have anywhere else to go. I don’t have any money left.”

“You should have considered that before you came out here on a whim,” Christopher growled, his shoulders squaring. He towered over her, as she was shorter than even the average woman, his dark eyes glowering down upon her. “Ask Abe to tend to you. I’ll not have anythin’ to do with this.”

Her surprise was turning to anger, sparks of it in her blood. She couldn’t believe this man was so willing to just throw her and Cody out. Could he not see that he was being unreasonable?

She wasn’t going to let him do this to them.

She was tired of being taken advantage of.

“Mr. Baldwin, I’m sorry that we’re intruding,” Estella said. “I’m not pleased about it, same as you. I couldn’t plan for anythin’ else, as I didn’t know this would happen. I didn’t know that anythin’ was planned behind your back. I thought…. Well, there’ll be time later for the whole story. Right now, time is short, isn’t it? Abe’s horse is still outside, and he’ll be needin’ to get back to town. So, I propose a deal, Mr. Baldwin.”

Without meaning to, she was talking with him the same way she would have with a displeased customer at the tailor’s shop. And it was working. Christopher was looking down at her, his face red yet silent, waiting for her to go on. At his shoulder, Abe was listening, too.

Estella continued to speak firmly, infusing as much reason into her words as she could manage. “If you send me outside on my own, I’ll die. This baby will die. You must wait until the weather is better. I won’t be a drag on you, though. I can help out with chores. I can cook. I can….”

She cast her eye around and noticed, for the first time, how dirty the place was. Dishes rested on many surfaces, and dust was in the corners. Boxes were lined up against the wall, so she might have thought he was just moving in, except, judging by the dust on and around them, they had been there for some time.

“I can help you clean this place up. Earn my keep for as long as I got to stay. I swear that we’ll be on our way when we can, but for now, we might just need to figure this out and make it work.”

Slowly, as she spoke, Christopher’s shoulders lowered. He stepped back and turned partly away from her, shielding his face so she couldn’t see his expression. When he spoke, it was so low she almost didn’t hear him at first.

“It would be the worst thing I ever done if I sent anyone off in this weather with no place else to go.” Christopher heaved a huge, annoyed sigh and waved his hand. “Fine. You can stay here. Play housekeeper. I don’t care. Just don’t make me regret any of this.”

Estella gasped out her relief and nodded rapidly. Abe was grinning like he had gotten his way, which Estella couldn’t understand. Didn’t he know that he had just seriously wounded his friendship with Christopher?

But that wasn’t her concern.

“Thank you very much,” she said, and Christopher just snorted and swiveled to face Abe.

“I’ll see you off,” Christopher said, his tone inviting no arguments. “Since you got somewhere else to go. I don’t need a third burden.”

“I can see myself off,” Abe said, striding for the door with his thumbs hooked into his belt.

Christopher followed him outside anyway, without glancing in Estella’s direction.

Estella collapsed onto one of the chairs and hugged Cody tightly. In the warmth, he was starting to fuss again, which was a relief and a sign that he still had strength. But, oh, how was she going to feed him? Did Christopher have an animal she could milk?

She had only another few moments to rest, hearing the wagon outside moving away and Christopher’s boots crunching the snow on his way back to the front door. She would have to explain everything to him and then work hard to earn her stay, and that still wasn’t all.

This was only a temporary reprieve. Christopher obviously didn’t want anyone around, much less a woman he didn’t know. She wasn’t going to become his wife. She had to hope she had bought herself enough time to figure out a new plan, or she might find herself in an even worse situation than this very soon.