Chapter One

Georgetown, Colorado

1871

Jack Carter made his way back through the quiet streets of Georgetown, his back aching from a long day at the mines.

Today had felt hard and exhausting in a way he had not expected.

He was accustomed to monotonous toil at a rock face, but all through the day, something had been nagging at his mind. A feeling of disquiet had dogged his steps since he had gotten up that morning.

The sun was lowering in the sky as he trudged onward, the warmth of it pleasant against his skin after several hours in the dark.

His gaze fell on the mountains rising in the distance as the last rays of the sun shone across their peaks. The ragged rock face was peppered with boulders and trees as it sloped downward toward the river. He stopped, breathing in the clean air, enjoying the stillness. Moments like these were rare and precious; since he had returned from the war, he had learned to treasure them all the more.

It wasn’t so long ago that he’d been a soldier, feet planted in the heat of battle; the speed and pace around him overwhelming, fierce, and seemingly without end.

Jack enjoyed the simple life, and it was something he had sought out when he returned. Georgetown and mining work suited him. It was predictable and familiar, and he had no one relying on him—just the way he liked it.

Ahead of him, the squat shape of the general store could be seen above the rise of the hill. He pulled his bag higher onto his shoulder and made his way toward it.

Cal Monroe was behind the counter, and Jack tipped his hat at him as he entered, already looking forward to a simple meal to fuel him after a long day of labor.

“Back again?” Cal asked lightly as he gave him a grin—it was an old routine, seeing as Jack came in here almost every day.

Jack grumbled at him as he walked along the shelves, grabbing some hard tack and contemplating the dried beans and coffee. He needed both but was trying to save as much money as possible. He liked to feel able to up and leave if he needed to, and having money spare was the only way to be sure he could.

“You got any Arbuckle’s coffee, Cal? This roasted stuff ain’t really to my taste.”

“I might have one bag left out back. It’s turnin’ right popular,” Cal said cheerfully as Jack listened to his heavy footfalls in the rear of the shop.

There were sounds of rummaging as Jack eyed the tinned peaches. They were too dear for him today, but he might treat himself next month.

He headed to the counter, grabbing some cornmeal on the way and laying out his items, calculating in his head how much he’d have left.

The meager fare before him should have been disheartening. He had nobody in his life but himself. A lot of folks might feel hard done by on that score, but Jack felt content.

I’ve had enough loss to last me a lifetime. Only way to fix that is not to know nobody.

He nodded at Cal as he came back through, brandishing a yellow bag of coffee in his hand.

Jack gave him a crooked smile. “You just happen to have that, did you?” he asked.

“I might have kept it back for ya, been flying off my shelves, and I know you favor it.”

“It’s good stuff.”

“I cain’t run out. Too dangerous. I don’t wanna know what you’re like without coffee in the mornin’,” Cal muttered, and Jack laughed as he handed over the coins.

Cal bagged everything up for him and Jack was just turning to head to his cabin when Cal snapped his fingers.

“I knew there was somethin’ else. This came for ya, general delivery,” he said, leaning under the shelf to his left and pulling out a mucky envelope that looked like it had traveled the breadth of the earth.

Jack stared at him, his stomach churning. The unease he had been feeling all day came back in force, and he frowned, stepping back toward Cal to take it.

The only relatives he had outside of the town were his sister and his niece and nephew, whom he saw two or three times a year. Nora rarely wrote to him, save to discuss an upcoming visit, but he had no plans to see them soon. A letter felt like it could only be bad news.

He pushed it deep into his pocket as he nodded at Cal.

“Thanks,” he said softly, heading out into the fading light.

The letter burned a hole in his pocket all the way home, and as his little cabin came into sight, he didn’t feel the relief that it usually brought him.

He kicked open the door, placing his produce on the tiny table and sorting it out onto the shelves on the wall. The kitchen was tiny, a small wood-burning stove in the corner and a cot on the other side, but it served him well enough.

Jack emptied a can of dried beans into a pan, setting them on the stove to warm as he pulled the letter out, nerves rising in his gut.

His life had been a steady grind through the war. He’d had his fair share of unhappiness, pain, and loss, and had enjoyed a little peace since he came home.

His simple life in the quiet and solitude of Georgetown felt necessary, and this letter was going to upend it all. He knew it before he unfolded the paper.

As his eyes moved over the page, his heart sank to the floor as he recognized the spiking hand of the farm hand on the ranch, Wade Reid.

Jack,

I hope the address I have for you is right. I been searching the house to find it, and I can only pray this is where you are at now.

I am sorrier than I can say to send bad news in a letter, but I needed to let you know that Nora passed this week.

She had been sick for a time with her chest, and it took a bad hold. The doctor came, but there was nothing any of us could do.

I’m writing to ask that you come back to the ranch as soon as you can.

Sam and Daisy are well, but have taken their mother’s passing very hard.

You know how much I cared for Nora, and we are all feeling her loss.

I’m mighty sorry for it. Hope to see you soon.

Yours,

Wade

Jack let the paper drop from his fingers. The only sound in the cabin was the bubbling pop of the beans on the stove as they came to a boil.

He stared at the wall, his whole world collapsing around him as he slumped back into his chair, putting his head in his hands.

Not Nora. Not now. She was so young. God, why would you do this to me?

He groaned aloud, the sound gut-wrenching and filled with pain. Nora was the only family he had left after his mother and father had died. She had practically raised him in his youth and had been a guiding light in everything he did.

The idea that she was gone from the world was a terrible thing. He couldn’t get his mind around it. The last time he had seen her and the kids was in the autumn, with a promise to visit in the winter. But the winter had been hard for them all. He hadn’t been able to travel that far with the weather as bad as it was, and he’d had to forego the trip in favor of the spring.

I should have gone before now. I should have been with her.

Tears flooded his eyes as he rubbed at them with the backs of his hands, not knowing what to do with himself. The smell of charred beans drifted through the air and he rose, pulling the pan from the heat and staring at the dinner he could no longer stomach.

Jack opened the door and stepped outside into the wide expanse, the Rocky Mountains stretching out behind him.

He felt sick, trying to calm what felt like rats scratching at his insides.

I have to go back.

The thought was a bright, clear light in his head, as though sent there by some angel, but he struggled to accept it.

What am I going to do with two teenagers?

His sister’s kids had always been a little wayward, headstrong, and stubborn like Nora.

Sweet, beautiful, kind Nora. Gone forever.

He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face, turning to the cabin and glaring up at the gathering dusk as though the day itself had taken his sister from him.

Wade was fiercely loyal to his sister, but he couldn’t be expected to take care of the children. The only person they had in the world was him, and that meant he had to throw his own needs aside and do what Nora would have asked him to, were she still here.

Jack headed back into the cabin.

I gotta eat, I gotta pack, and then I gotta go.

If he delayed, if he tried to say goodbye to this life he treasured so much, he would never leave it.

He had loved his time in Georgetown, and it already felt like a wrench to go back to Greeley, but he couldn’t let his sister down. She would be counting on him to do right by Daisy and Sam; that was all that mattered now.

***

Two weeks later…

Walking out of the church into the bright sunshine was jarring. Jack stopped, turning to wait for the pastor. Eventually, he emerged, one hand on Sam’s shoulder, one on Daisy’s.

Should I be comforting them in his place? Should I have said more in there?

The funeral had been simple and filled with love, but Jack was relieved it was over. He refused to allow himself to cry in front of the children, but their cold, lifeless expressions had almost been worse than the turmoil inside his head.

Jack had expected tears from Daisy at the very least, but neither of them had expressed any emotion from the moment he arrived. Today was no different. They had just buried their mother, and it was as if they had been to an ordinary church service.

Sam’s expression was a grim line of anger and pain, and Jack simply didn’t know what to say.

Wade emerged from the church, eyeing the kids warily before he glanced at Jack. Daisy and Sam knew Wade a lot better than they knew him, but even Wade seemed surprised by their behavior.

They made their way over to their wagon. Their faithful white pony, Lucy, shaking her head at them as Daisy approached her and stroked her nose absently.

“Up you go,” Jack said to Daisy, offering his hand to help her climb into the wagon. She didn’t take it, sticking out her chin and climbing in by herself. Jack glanced at her brother, but Sam just gave him a warning glare and then followed his sister.

Maybe Nora was the reason they were happy, and without her, things ain’t never gonna be the same again.

Jack climbed up to the front of the wagon with Wade, and they exchanged a look before Lucy began to trot away over the dry earth.

Unlike Georgetown, the mountains weren’t as prominent here, and Jack looked across the wide landscape around them in awe. The world seemed to stretch for miles in either direction, ending in a dark and unfamiliar horizon.

There were houses peppered around, bunching up ahead of them where they began to form uniform lines as part of the town of Greeley.

They passed the large lumber dealer situated beside a small ramshackle building where several men stood in a group, their eyes following the gloomy occupants of the wagon as they headed out of town.

The general store was bigger than the one in Georgetown, which Jack hoped boded well for getting all the food he needed for the family. He had no clue how his sister had managed in the final few months of her life, all he knew was that she had left a pile of debts.

The bank was the largest building in the town, looming above the others, its large windows and wooden frontage imposing as Jack looked up at it.

The name “Luke Carson” was written above the door in large, bold letters, and Jack could just imagine what type of man he was. He frowned at the bank, hoping he wouldn’t have to pay it a visit any time soon.

As they finally left the roads of Greeley behind and walked along the winding path to the ranch, Jack’s worry increased at the sight of it.

The buildings were far more rundown than he remembered, or perhaps things had worsened while Nora was ill. He glanced at Wade, trying to hide the judgment in his eyes, but Wade’s expression was just as concerned as his own.

As they pulled to a stop and climbed down onto the dusty ground, the kids remained as silent as the grave.

Neither of them had spoken all morning, and it was starting to make Jack’s skin itch.

Usually, when he had visited them, they were lively, positive, and cheerful, if a bit of a handful. Now, it was like spending his time with two crows who’d been kicked out of their nest. The life had left their eyes.

I’ll just have to do the best I can. They have no one but me and Wade to look out for them now.

“Listen, if y’all need to talk, or you wanna tell me somethin’…” he said awkwardly, “I’m gonna look out for you now that your ma has passed. I’ll be here. Whatever you need.”

When did I forget how to talk to these kids?

Sam and Daisy looked at one another as though his words were of little comfort to them.

Daisy’s brow furrowed, and her bottom lip began to tremble as she turned around and stormed into the house. Sam shrugged at Jack and then drifted after his sister, scuffing his foot against the ground, his head hung low.

Jack blew out a long breath, looking to Wade for guidance.

Wade’s dark hair was streaked with white strands that had moved into his eyebrows and the stubble around his chin. Pale lines spread outward from his eyes against his tanned skin, reminding Jack that there used to be laughter in this place.

“Don’t be too hard on ‘em,” Wade said gently. “They’ll warm up to ya. They been like that since she left us.”

Jack shook his head. “I remember when Ma and Pa died. Nora was my rock. I gotta be that for them.”

“It’ll take time, Jack.”

“I don’t blame ‘em for any of it. They don’t know me that well. Heaven knows how they must feel. They gotta work through this like the rest of us.”

But in his heart, he had no idea what he would do, and doing it alone felt all the more terrifying.

Chapter Two

Omaha, Nebraska

1871

“You get back here, Emma Holt, or so help me, I will drag you back down these stairs by your hair!”

Emma leaped up the steps two at a time, clutching her skirts in her fists as she tried to shut out the screaming voice of her stepmother.

As she reached the landing, she could still hear Ruby following her, the rustle of her skirts loud in the quiet hallway.

Emma ran for her bedroom, scurrying to the door and turning to slam it closed, only to find Ruby’s foot wedged in the gap.

Her stepmother’s pale face was mottled with patches of red, her neck crimson with rage as she slapped a hand against the door.

“You get back down those stairs, you little brat,” Ruby hissed. “Mr. Holdman has come a long way to meet you.”

“Well, he can keep on goin’! I ain’t marryin’ that old coot,” Emma retorted.

“So help me, Emma, you will act like a lady in this house. You should be thankin’ me for what I’m doin’ for you.” Ruby’s mouth was set in a sour line, her eyes flashing at her like they always did.

What did Pa ever see in this woman ‘cept for spite and malice?

Emma’s gaze met hers, fire in her belly and fear in her heart.

“You cain’t force me, Ruby. I won’t be sold for your comfort,” she spat, shoving her full weight against the door as Ruby cried out in alarm, and it snapped shut.

Emma remained leaning against it, both hands spread wide, praying that her stepmother would leave her alone for a few minutes.

It was a fool’s hope. They had never seen eye to eye, and Ruby was insufferable when she had something she wanted. She wouldn’t let this drop, Emma knew that for certain.

Her stepmother had been going on at her for weeks about the state of things, about how Emma had to do her duty and marry so they could be financially secure again.

They had argued every day for a week until Emma had finally relented. Her stepmother was not a woman to trifle with, and Emma had learned over the years that sometimes, agreeing to what she wanted could make things easier in the long run.

Despite having no interest in getting married, she understood that their position was becoming increasingly precarious.

After yet another blazing row, she had agreed to meet the man her stepmother had picked out for her, purely so that Ruby would be quiet for a while.

That morning, she had put on her best dress, tied her long, copper hair in a green ribbon, and made her way downstairs.

But when she entered the parlor, the man standing there to greet her had made her stomach turn. He had to be nearly sixty years old with graying, wiry hair, a long white beard, and a lascivious gaze.

Emma stared at him, bewildered, wondering whether he was the father of the man she was going to meet. But then, Ruby had walked forward with a wide smile and introduced her to Mr. Holdman, who was very pleased to make her acquaintance.

Emma had taken one look at him, given a shrill laugh, and turned on her heel, sprinting out of the room.

Ruby must have been be mad to even entertain such a thing.

Emma stilled as she heard her stepmother’s angry muttering outside the door and listened to her footsteps as she went back to Mr. Holdman. Emma knew she had been abominably rude to the man, but there was only so much she could take.

She sighed, pushing off the door and leaning against it heavily, looking around her bedroom and running a hand over her face.

She loved this room, loved this house. She had decorated her bedroom in her favorite colors of yellow and gold, but today the brightness of it seemed to mock her. It was only a matter of time before it all could be taken away from them.

Oh, Pa, why did you have to leave us in this position?

Emma walked to the window, looking down at the dry, sandy earth below it. She followed the line of the fence to the edge of the property and out onto the plains ahead.

The rolling prairie was beautiful this summer, with browns and greens as far as the eye could see, wildflowers and black-eyed Susans bobbing their heads in the sunshine.

Tall grass waved happily in the breeze, and Emma watched it enviously, imagining she was a seed or a grain of sand drifting far and away from the troubles of her life.

She walked slowly to her dressing table and lowered herself into the seat, staring at her reflection. There were dark circles beneath her eyes, and her skin was pale and tired. She hadn’t slept well since her father had passed.

Looking down at the photograph before her, grief rose in a sudden wave as she looked into those beloved eyes. Picking up the frame, she traced the line of his jaw with her fingers, holding back the tears that threatened to fall.

Her father had been a practical man, a man of business. When her mother had died, he had quickly remarried, partly so that Emma would have a woman to care for her again.

How ironic that it was Ruby he chose.

Emma had hated her stepmother ever since she was a girl. Ruby was opinionated, hard-headed, and bitter. She had spent her father’s money on trivial things for the house, never considering how much of it might be left, or to ask for permission. It was Ruby’s arrival that heralded the start of his father’s debts—Emma was sure of it.

Right from the start Ruby resented Emma’s youth and beauty. Whenever Emma was complimented on her looks, which happened fairly often, Ruby would close up and make some comment against her or an unnecessary criticism to put her down.

Ruby wasn’t unattractive; she had long, elegant features, beautiful auburn hair, and a fine figure—but with Emma’s father away so much, she rarely felt a loving touch or received a compliment herself.

When her father had gotten sick, Ruby’s temper had been truly dreadful. She became volatile and angry, throwing things around the house and breaking them without a care for their value. Emma had wondered whether she was angry about losing her husband, or his money—the lines between the two had become blurred long before.

When he passed away, the rage was beyond description. Emma had sat in her room, trying to grieve while she listened to Ruby berate the maid and the cook on a daily basis.

It was Emma who had discovered the state of things a short while later. She had been in her father’s study tidying things away after his death when she had discovered some worrying account documents that chilled her blood.

Unbeknownst to either Emma or her stepmother, her father’s business had been on a downward turn for some time. Ruby’s frivolous nature hadn’t helped matters. The debts were substantial, and when his solicitor visited them, he had no good news to give.

Ruby’s reaction had been uncharacteristically calm and Emma soon discovered why.

“You will make a good match, Emma, and you will put us back on the right path. A rich husband will see us through and will allow us to live in the comforts to which we are accustomed.”

Emma had come from privilege and wealth beyond the dreams of many and had little knowledge of how hard life could be.

Still, she lived modestly and never spent her father’s money frivolously. Ruby, on the other hand, enjoyed the luxuries her husband had afforded her. Ruby wasn’t concerned with Emma retaining the comforts to which she had grown accustomed; her stepmother wanted to ensure her own future was secured, and Emma was the tool to do it.

Emma plucked at her skirts, wondering if Mr. Holdman had left yet, a nauseated feeling in her gut returning as she imagined having to marry that man.

How could Ruby do this to me? I know she hates me, but this is beyond anything I had expected.

She decided to hide in her room for as long as possible so as not to trigger Ruby’s ire again. After a while, she heard the gentle shuffling and murmurings of someone being shown out and the front door closing.

She tiptoed to the window, looking down to watch Mr. Holdman leave.

The man could barely mount his horse without help, and Emma shook her head, watching as he trotted away.

And don’t come back.