Prologue

Drummond, Montana

1875

Sweat ran down Theodore’s face, dripping off the tip of his nose and chin to soak into the dry, baked dirt. The heat of summer made being in the crawlspace under the porch unbearably stuffy, not a whiff of fresh wind to be found. He would have given anything to claw his way out from that stifling, spider-infested place and back into the open air.

If it wasn’t for the small, trembling four-year-old tucked against his chest, hiding in the crawlspace with him, he would have taken the risk. Ma had told him to watch over his brother and he had promised he would, sworn on God’s name he would.

Ma was moving around the house, the creaking wood as loud as gunshots in his ears. She was alone for the moment, but she had told Theodore and his brother, Phillip, to hide before she wasn’t alone anymore. Their father would be coming home at any time, finally returning on this bright morning after a night getting roostered in the tavern. He was a mean, mean drunk, Pa was, and as of late he had been getting even worse, striking out at anyone who even looked at him wrong.

“Theo,” Phillip whispered, his voice tiny and weak. “I’m thirsty.”

Theodore looked down at his brother. The extreme dark in the crawlspace was penetrated by only little fragments of light. His eyes had had enough time to adjust and he could see his brother’s face, pale beneath the dirt, dark eyes wide.

There was just enough room for Theodore to move his arm and stroke Phillip’s mussed brown hair. “We just got to stay hidin’ for a little longer,” Theodore whispered. “Then we’ll get out and get you some water.”

“But I’m thirsty now,” Phillip whined, his voice rising.

“Quiet!” Theodore hissed. “You don’t want Ma to hear you. We said we’d be quiet.”

Phillip shook his head.

Trying to think of how he could keep his brother quiet, Theodore felt around in the dirt. His scrabbling fingers closed around something small and hard. “Here,” he said, and pushed the pebble into Phillip’s hand. “Suck on this. That’s what cowboys do when they got a thirst and no water.”

“I’m not puttin’ no dirty rock in my mouth!” Phillip threw the pebble aside to clatter faintly against some unseen bit of house foundation.

Irritation pulsed as heat at the back of Theodore’s neck. He closed his eyes. Be patient. He’s just a little boy. He doesn’t understand.

In the distance, there were hoofbeats. Every muscle in Theodore’s body went tense. He clutched Phillip, holding his brother’s face to his chest.

The horse approached until its hooves shook the ground. The rider was silent the whole time and Theodore felt more sweat running down his face and back. Sometimes Pa was singing when he came riding home, or muttering to himself about nonsense things. When he was quiet, that was when he was the worst.

Pa dismounted, the spurs on his boots jangling. He stepped up onto the porch. Tiny gaps in the wood that had previously let in some light were now covered in shadow. Pa was right above them.

Theodore smelled his own body odor, ripened by fear.

Pa shoved the door to the small house open, sending it slamming against the wall. Phillip flinched and quivered. Theodore hugged him tight, pressing his face into his hair.

“Claire!” Pa hollered. “Where are ya, Claire?”

“I’m right here, Robert.” It sounded as though Ma took a few steps. “I was just starting breakfast.”

“I told you afore that you need to have grub ready before I come home,” Pa growled. There was the sound of something falling to the ground. Or, more likely, being pushed. “And where are my sons?”

“Out doing the chores.”

“I ain’t see them when I came home.” Pa muttered a snarling swear that clawed at Theodore’s ears. He could only hope that Phillip didn’t understand what was being said.

“I bet them boys is lazin’ around somewhere. I’m goin’ to go find them and give them a piece of my mind.”

“Robert, wait.” Ma sounded as if she was trying hard to remain calm. “Why don’t you have some coffee, first? You need it.”

“Don’t you tell me what I need, woman!”

Phillip made a soft sobbing sound against Theodore’s chest. Theodore cringed at the noise that their father might hear. He felt as helpless as a baby, unable to do anything except lie there where he had been told to be. If only there was something he could do, anything at all.

As his Pa continued to pick arguments that Ma desperately tried to diffuse, Theodore found himself turning to his only remaining source of comfort.

He clasped his hands together behind Philip and prayed silently, mouthing the words as they floated through his mind. Please, God, keep our mother safe from our father. He’s a bad man and he could hurt her. I need you to help her. Please. Amen.

Where were his thoughts going? For a moment, he imagined them leaving his mind and drifting up high into the air like butterflies. They would pierce the clouds and continue ever higher, all the way to Heaven, where God would gather them up in His hands. He would understand and He would answer, because that was what He did for good people.

Some of the tightness left Theodore’s chest and he was able to draw in a full breath for the first time in ages.

“Them boys still ain’t here yet!” Pa shouted, stomping around overhead. “I’m goin’ to go find them and tan their hides for… Don’t you touch me, Claire!”

Ma let out a cry unlike any that Theodore had ever heard from her before. A terrible, heavy thud shook the whole foundation of the house, like a whole piece of furniture had been shoved onto its side. A wild urge took over Theodore, far stronger than the desires to get up and move around that he felt on church days. He was completely unable to stop himself, his body moving out of his control like an untamed horse. He thrust Philip away from himself and squirmed his whole body backwards, shoving and clawing at handfuls of dry earth. Strong, hot sunrays touched his legs, and then the rest of him was outside as well. He tumbled onto his side in a plume of dust. He was hardly able to see at all after having been in the dark for so long. The shouting from inside the house made him move in spite of being half-blind, shoving his way to his feet and stumbling onto the porch.

He tripped up the steps and rushed for the open door that his father was standing in the middle of. Pa made a startled yelp and moved to the side. Theodore pushed past him, their shoulders bumping, and ducked into the house.

He could see better inside and spotted his mother right away. She was sprawled out on the floor on her side, propped up on her arms. Her blonde hair hung loose around her shoulders, disturbed from the normal meticulous bun she wore. The skin around one eye was rapidly turning a dark reddish-purple.

Theodore dropped to his knees beside her, grabbing her hand. “Ma! He hit you?” His stomach felt sour and tight, like he might vomit. Thus far, Pa had only ever struck out at his sons. This level of violence was something new, something worse.

“There you are, boy.” Pa spoke from behind Theodore, his voice low and dangerous. “It’s about time you showed up.”

Theodore got to his feet and turned back to face his father. Ma and Pa were around the same age, he knew that, but his Pa had always looked much older from all his drinking. His suntanned face was creased with wrinkles all over, like a dried-out creek bottom, and his nose was twisted from having been broken twice in bar fights. His hair was going prematurely gray and thinning out. Even more than that, there was something about his wan blue eyes, a weariness and a strange impatience that always reminded Theodore a bit of an injured animal waiting to die.

“You always was your mother’s son,” Pa snapped. “Lazy and soft, just like her.”

Pa’s fist came up. Theodore flinched back, watching it come. As it was descending for his shoulder, he realized something that he never had before.

Pa was drunk, and slow.

Theodore was not.

Theodore threw out his arm, knocking Pa’s fist to the side before it could land. His breath caught in his chest at the power he felt in his own body, strength radiating from his arm and up into his chest.

Pa shook out his hand and his lips peeled back from his teeth. “You’re goin’ to regret that.”

Theodore pressed his boots down against the floor and stood as tall as he could, puffing out his chest. He was taller than his father at only fourteen years old, and strong from working hard every day while Pa just drank and ate and slept.

Though he’s got more experience in fights than I do, Theodore thought.

“You want a brawl, son?” Pa demanded. “Or are you goin’ to settle down?”

“Are you goin’ to settle down?” Theodore threw back at him. His pulse thumped in his ears. He had never felt like this, so powerful. “I’ll fight you, Pa. I don’t care. You can hurt me all you like, but I’ll make darn sure you can never hurt Ma ever again.”

“You’re threatenin’ me? You think you’re a man now?” Pa laughed aloud, his tone scornful. “You don’t know nothin’ about manhood.”

He was right, and sudden doubt crept into Theodore’s head, making him question his own actions. Up until moments ago, he had been hiding under the porch so Ma could protect him. Now he was going to act like he could protect her?

He refused to back down, though. His legs were shaking and his heart was going like crazy, but he knew that if he let Pa see any weakness in him, then this would be over. There might never be another chance.

Theodore gathered up all of his strength and put on his meanest look, glaring at his father. He let go of all the pretending he had done and let his anger and frustration form a harsh mask on his face.

Pa hesitated, taking a small step back.

That was the opening Theodore needed. He couldn’t wait for God to answer any prayers. He took this chance of his own accord, stepping forward, pointing at his father’s chest. “I don’t care what you think. You ain’t welcome here anymore. You better leave or I’ll hurt you.”

His voice broke on the last word, becoming a childlike squeak.

Pa snapped another dirty swear. Theodore braced himself for the fight, knowing he would have to get dirty to make it out on top. Any trick he had to pull, he would do it to keep his family safe.

Pa turned away, waving his hand. “I ain’t goin’ to bother with this no more,” he grumbled. “You want to be a man, Theodore? Be a man. We’ll see how long it takes you before you figure out that it ain’t worth it.”

Theodore’s throat was too tight to say anything else. He stood his ground, hardly able to believe it as Pa stomped out of the house and went to his horse. Pa mounted, almost falling off the other side of the horse in the process.

Did I actually win?

Pa swatted his horse on the rear. The animal squealed and took off, with Pa bouncing drunkenly all around on its back. Soon enough, he was out of sight, hoofbeats fading as he got further and further away.

Theodore heard his mother moving around behind him and twisted around. “Don’t move!” he told her, placing his hand on her shoulder. “I’ll go get a doctor.”

Ma put her hand over his and shook her head. “I’ll be alright,” she said, and pulled in a shaky breath. “Oh, Theodore. You should have stayed hidden. You could have gotten hurt.”

He put his arms around her shoulders and kissed her cheek, feeling her heart running in her chest just as fast as his. “And you could have gotten hurt worse. It’s okay now, Ma. I don’t think he’ll come back for a while.”

And if he did some back, Theodore would be ready to chase him away again. He had already decided that that man was no longer his father and should never set foot on their land ever again.

“Mama!” Phillip ran into the house, crying. He threw himself into Ma’s arms and buried his face in her bosom.

“Hush, Phil, my lovely.” Ma climbed to her feet with a grimace and lifted Phillip into her arms. She held out her other arm and Theodore embraced her again. Bowing her head, she let out a long, shaking sigh. “We’ll have to watch out for each other from now on. It will be hard work, but I can count on you boys. I know I can.”

“It’ll be alright, Ma,” Theodore reassured her. “It’s not like he ever helped us much anyway.”

Phillip sniffled “What’s goin’ on? I don’t get it.”

“Never you mind,” Ma said to him. She spoke to Theodore. “Why don’t you go and take care of some chores while I get breakfast? Be back here in twenty minutes.”

He nodded and ran outside fast, eager to get started and get as much done as he could. Ma would try to act positive and like everything was okay, hiding her real feelings. He wanted to give her actual reasons to be happy by telling her all he had accomplished over breakfast.

From there, the day proceeded much like normal. Phillip followed Theodore around while he fed the animals and mucked out their pens, asking questions and getting the way and just generally making himself a nuisance. Breakfast went by, then lunch, and finally Ma was calling them both to dinner.

It was as they were sitting down to a dinner of beans, crispy bacon, and buttery rolls that there was a knock on the front door. Theodore froze with his knife and fork in hand, his heart jumping up into his throat. That couldn’t be Pa coming back. He wouldn’t knock to be let in, never did.

Ma set aside the pot of beans she had been serving from and wiped her strong, wiry hands off on a rag. “I’ll go see who that is. Maybe a neighbor.”

“I’ll go, too,” Theodore said, putting his silverware down and getting to his feet. He could feel his muscles all sore and tired from working so hard all day. Still, he had some energy to go and answer the door

Ma nipped at her bottom lip, apparently deliberating, then she nodded. They left the oblivious Phillip sitting at the table and went to the door. Bracing himself, Theodore pulled it open.

A well-dressed bearded man stood on the doorstep, clasping a hat before him with both hands. Theodore recognized the pastor whose sermons he never listened to on Sunday, a kindly older gentleman named Samuel.

“Pastor Samuel!” Ma exclaimed, opening the door wider. The bruise on her face from being struck earlier was obvious and raw. Still, she was trying to smile as she faced their visitor. “What a pleasant surprise. We were just sitting down for supper. Join us?”

“Sounds, and smells, mighty good, Claire,” Samuel said in his dry, even voice. He lowered his head. “Unfortunately, I don’t come calling on you for such a nice reason. I bring sorry news to you.”

Ma put a closed fist to her mouth.

Theodore cleared his throat and spoke for her. “What news is that, sir?”

The pastor glanced down at him, then back up at Ma. “We found Robert fallen on the side of the road. He must have been thrown from his horse when she spooked over some animal or other.”

Ma gasped. “Is he alright?”

“No, ma’am, I’m afraid that he broke his neck. He would have died right away.”

Ma brought the rag to her face and wept into it. Theodore put his arm around her to comfort her, not that he understood why, when his father had been such a bad man. Shouldn’t she be happy that he wouldn’t come back home and continue his cruel ways?

Or was Theodore not understanding something about all of this?

Samuel looked at him again. “It looks like you’re the man of the house from now on, son.”

“I know,” Theodore said, and then it sank in for him. It wasn’t just today that he would be taking care of his family. It would be tomorrow, too. There would be no more days when Pa was able and willing to pitch in. Everything would be Theodore’s responsibility all the time. Ma would need him constantly to fix this or that around the house, and he would be the one to manage their finances. He could no longer go off and play with the other boys in town, all of whom had fathers and free time.

He had saved his family today. But could he continue to do that… forever?

He swallowed hard and felt sweat beginning to trickle down his back for the second time that day. There was so much that he didn’t know.

And only one thing that he did know. His earlier prayer had gone unanswered. He couldn’t waste the time asking God for help from now on. He’d do it all on his own.

Chapter One

10 years later, 1887

San Francisco, California

Rita leaned her elbows on the windowsill and looked out at the view of the bustling nearby city. The house where she had grown up with her father and housekeeper was close enough that she could hear the shouts of all the people, the whistling of steam machinery. Her heart longed to be there, that wondrous place with so many different shops and parks to visit. She didn’t often get to go and wasn’t allowed to be on her own when she did get to visit. Still, she remembered vividly what she had seen when she was there and always wanted to go back.

Soon, I’ll be living in the city, when Donald marries me. I’ll get to be there all the time instead of just nearby.

“Rita, dear, that sill hasn’t been dusted yet. You’ll get your dress dirty.”

Rita turned her head as the housekeeper, Lisa, walked up to her with a feather duster in hand. “I’m watching for Donald,” she told her.

Lisa frowned slightly. “Was it today that he’s supposed to come?”

“Lisa!” Rita stood and spread out her arms. “It’s only going to be the most important day of my life so far and you don’t even remember what day it is?”

Lisa laughed softly and nudged her out of the way to dust the windowsill, the feathers tickling over the shiny wood. “I’m only teasing you.”

Rita crossed her arms over her chest and gave the housekeeper a playful glare. Though Lisa was far more than just a housekeeper. She had stepped in to help Rita’s father raise her after her mother died when she was just nine years old.

Rita watched Lisa at her work, only halfway paying attention as her ears were straining to pick up any sounds of people approaching the house. “Will you miss me when I’m gone, Lisa?” she asked.