Prologue

Gallatin Mountain Range, Montana

1874

Rhett Callahan lowered the sluice gate, diverting the gushing water away from the mill. The large wooden wheel creaked with relief as it began to slow after hours of turning. The rhythmic chug of the sash saw ebbed away, and the mill gradually grew silent. His work was not over, though. Rhett packed all his wedges, hammers, and hand augers away, then picked up a piece of whetstone and sharpened his axes, before oiling the saw and loosening the belts. Satisfied that everything was in its proper place and ready for the next day’s work, he collected an axe and two wooden buckets and headed out the front of his mill.

Rhett couldn’t help but feel the well-earned prick of pride as he looked at the crude shed. He had laid every plank by hand, hammered every nail, and worked grueling hours until the sawmill felt like an extension of his own flesh and blood, breathing and pulsing to the same rhythm he did.

Arriving at his cabin, Rhett shrugged off his heavy bundle of firewood and slowly lowered the wooden buckets filled with water. He stretched his back, feeling his tired muscles breaking free from the cramped hunch he had endured all day. Taking a breath, Rhett surveyed the steep Gallatin Range. The slopes were covered in pine and fir trees, and the craggy peaks were dusted with early snow. As the October light faded, the cold air and loneliness set in, but a day’s work in a land that felt like home was all he needed.

He stooped down in front of his cast iron stove to feed the fire and placed a kettle on the stovetop, the promise of a cup of strong coffee keeping him going. After yanking off his boots, he put his feet up and drifted off, thinking about the large order of planks he had to complete.

It was not the shriek of the kettle that woke him, but a thump against the door. He moved soundlessly to the corner of the cabin where he kept a loaded shotgun. Every muscle tensed in response to a possible threat. There were no visitors this far out.

“Rhett?” a voice called from the other side of the door. “It’s me.”

In one quick movement, Rhett lowered his gun and pulled open the door. He grinned, his eyes alight at the sight of a familiar face in this lonely place.

“Thomas!” he exclaimed at the long-time family friend, now foreman of his brother’s ranch.

Rhett’s smile faded. Though a mere three years younger than him at twenty-nine, Thomas had aged a decade since the last time Rhett had visited the family ranch. Deep crevices had formed around Thomas’ eyes, and his cheeks were so gaunt it looked as though he had not seen sleep in days.

“What happened?” Rhett asked, bracing himself in the doorframe with his rough hands.

“I’m sorry, Rhett,” Thomas croaked, his voice hoarse. He removed his hat and shook his head, tears forming in his warm brown eyes.

“Did something happen to the ranch?” Rhett intuited. “Is it Daniel or Mary?” he demanded. “Speak, man!”

Thomas shook himself out of his stupor, face grief-stricken, and nodded. “Both. Daniel and Mary,” he confirmed.

Rhett gripped the door frame, his fingernails digging into the wood.

“How?”

“Early blizzard,” Thomas replied, his hands and shoulders shaking as he spoke. “Daniel-” His voice broke. “He…lost control of the wagon on the ice.”

“No,” Rhett said under his breath, shaking his head slowly.

“The wagon overturned and killed them both,” Thomas finally managed.

Rhett reeled backwards, the news crushing him like a tree toppled by the final blow of an axe. His eyes widened with horror.

“The kids?”

“Eli and Ruth are alive. They weren’t with them.”

Rhett was able to breathe again at that, his chest burning from the lack of air.

Thomas hesitated, his fingers crumpling the rim of his hat. He looked up, his eyes imploring him.

“Rhett, they need you.”

Those words slammed into Rhett. He clutched at his chest, his mind racing through a mental catalogue of all the animals, barns, crops, buildings, and miles of fencing on his brother’s ranch that now needed someone to be responsible for their upkeep. He gasped for air, feeling his throat constrict and his heart race at the thought of parenting two children who had just lost everything.

“Rhett?” Thomas’ voice sounded distant.

Rhett wiped a rough hand down the length of his face and breathed deeply, the sweat on his skin cooling.

He was a Callahan, and he would face it like he faced everything else: head on.

“I’ll come,” Rhett agreed, his throat tight.

Chapter One

St. Louis, Missouri

1874

Adelaide entered the high-ceilinged room, its shelves lined with thick ledgers and rolled up maps. As the heavy burgundy drapes had been drawn shut against the chill evening air, the air in the room was still, and tobacco smoke pricked at her nose. She watched as her father and another man rose to their feet. She was used to her father’s business associates calling at his home office at all hours of the night. She had grown up at her father’s feet, learning trading and shipping talk long before she knew about corsets and silk hair ribbons. She could tell who the man was by the way he proudly pushed his shoulders back and tossed his pointed chin up.

“Adelaide, my dear daughter,” her father greeted her fondly. “You know Mr. Edgar Langley, of course.”

“Mr. Langley,” Adelaide greeted the visitor, deliberately lowering her eyes.

“Miss Adelaide.” He smiled at her, his smugness unnerving.

The wrinkles around his eyes and graying hair placed him in his late forties. The jut of his chin and pull of his lips told her he believed himself handsome, but the coldness in his eyes sent a shiver down her spine. He wore a silk waistcoat over a crisp white shirt, and everything glinted with gold as he moved. A signet ring flashed as he waved a hand, a pocket watch chain swung as he spoke, and cufflinks gleamed every time he gestured, clearly his way of making sure everyone knew he was the most important person in the room.

Adelaide brushed off her pale-blue silk skirt and took a seat next to Edgar. She listened politely as her father explained his latest business venture while her gaze swept over the familiar ledgers and ship manifestos spread across the polished walnut desk that separated them. There was a pile of documents in front of him that looked more to do with railroads than shipping logs. Close at hand was an ink pot, the smudge of ink on her father’s hand confirming her suspicions: a deal had been signed.

The hairs began to prickle on the back of her neck, and her eyes snapped to her father’s as she began to listen more attentively.

“I must say, Miss Adelaide,” Edgar Langley addressed her, “that you look more beautiful than ever this evening.”

Adelaide ignored the crawling sensation across her skin.

“Thank you, Mr. Langley,” she managed to say.

She had watched Edgar Langley at her father’s dinner parties. He curried favor with those who could help him and dismissed anyone he considered beneath him. So, what had her father offered him? Langley measured his profits out in railway tracks and bank balances, leaving little room for people, and certainly not her. That’s why his sudden interest made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She thought to herself that there couldn’t possibly be anything she might have that would interest a man like this.

“My daughter,” her father said fondly, his aging eyes studying her proudly. “We have some important news for you.”

In those eyes was the same smugness he had exhibited the day he had purchased his very own steamboat for his shipping business, as well as on the day they had moved into a sprawling new house three times the size of their previous one. Her father loved to own expensive things, and Adelaide had often wondered if he counted her as one of those objects.

Her father continued, “Mr. Langley here, as you know, is one of the leading businessmen in the rapidly expanding industry of railroads.”

“Not one of the leading,” Edgar corrected him with a chuckle. “I am the top railroad magnate. The Langley empire stretches far and wide, to places you’ve never even heard of, Miss Adelaide.”

Adelaide was well-practiced at maintaining a suitable level of interest around some of her father’s more pompous business associates. She smiled patiently at him before speaking.

“I am well aware of your vast circle of influence, Mr. Langley,” Adelaide replied mildly.

The intensity of the conversation began to weigh on Adelaide, the rising tension making her feel as if she was trapped inside a constricting fist. Even the lace around her high-necked collar seemed too tight.

“Then you’ll be happy to hear that Mr. Langley and I have just agreed to go into business together!” her father announced with a self-satisfied smile and a clap of his hands.

Both men beamed at each other as though they had achieved something spectacular. Adelaide knew that if her presence was required, their business deal had to involve her somehow. She shifted in an effort to ease her discomfort, as a bone from her corset had sprung free from the stitching and stabbed into her skin every time she moved.

“Then I am happy for you,” she said kindly. Despite the distance between Adelaide and her father these days, she still loved him. “May your new venture prove prosperous for both your companies.”

The corners of Edgar’s mouth twitched upwards, and her father’s bushy eyebrows wiggled with glee as they shared another knowing look. Adelaide’s discomfort intensified, so she tried to deepen her suddenly shallow breathing in an effort to calm herself down.

“Adelaide,” her father said, “I am delighted to inform you that you, too, are a part of this wonderfully prosperous agreement.”

Adelaide maintained her smile, fixed like a painted porcelain doll. Ever since she had been able to read, she had been almost as much a part of her father’s business as he had. She had hoped that, in time, he would entrust some of his shares to her, perhaps even allow her to help more publicly. Those hopes had not materialized…at least not yet.

Her palms began to sweat, and her cheeks stung with heat. Deep in the pit of Adelaide’s churning stomach, she knew that this was not a conversation about shares. Something else was afoot. Something she had a growing suspicion she would not like.

Her father spoke again. “My business proposition included your hand in marriage, Adelaide.”

Adelaide stared at him, her lips parting slightly as words escaped her. Her cheeks turned from pink to scarlet, and she felt like she was overheating in her constricting dress. Her skin prickled as Edgar’s stare raked over her as though she was already his. She swallowed hard, feeling bile rise in her throat.

“I hope you are as thrilled as I am,” Edgar said, smiling at Adelaide as he surveyed her like a new prize, a possessive gleam in his dark eyes. “I believe we will make a most suitable match. I’ve longed to have a lady of your grace and elegance beside me, presiding together over the empire I’ve worked so hard to build.”

Adelaide nodded stiffly. Her throat ached with her desire to scream how she really felt at both of them. She did not want to be positioned at the top of Edgar’s empire like some trophy. Marriage was meant to be built on love and trust. Those were feelings that had to be earned over time, not purchased through a business transaction without her consent.

“Excellent!” her father rubbed his hands together. “There is much to discuss.”

“Adelaide-” He already dared to address her in a more familiar manner! “Your father and I have set the wedding date for a month from now. I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know that I intend to let you plan everything! And worry not, no expense will be too great for our wedding.”

Adelaide managed another mute smile.

“Come, come!” Her father clapped his hands. “We can discuss this over dinner. You must stay, Mr. Langley. If you can spare the time, that is?”

Edgar made a show of inspecting his pocket watch, a grave frown replacing his formerly pleased expression.

“I regret I have an appointment elsewhere,” he replied, “but perhaps we can have a celebratory party at my estate, later in the week?”

“An excellent idea!” Charles agreed.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Edgar said, rising to his feet.

Adelaide remained seated, using the temporary distraction of Edgar’s departure to compose herself. She unclasped her hands and smoothed her skirts, then adjusted a pin in her hair. Suddenly, Edgar stopped uncomfortably close to her.

“Until we meet again,” Edgar said, catching Adelaide’s hand in his before she could stop him.

Adelaide froze, resisting the urge to wrench her hand out of his. Her stomach lurched with nausea, her future feeling as trapped as her fingers were. When her father closed the door behind Langley, she finally let out the gasp she’d been suppressing.

“What is it, Adelaide?” her father asked, a warm hand falling to her sleeve. “Are you unwell?”

“Father,” she said, her face a mask of rage. “How could you?”

Charles stared at her, his gray eyebrows arched with surprise.

“Are you unhappy with the arrangement?” he asked in disbelief.

“Father!” She ripped herself out of the chair and marched across the heavy rugs carpeting his office. “I don’t know Edgar Langley well enough to like him, let alone love him!”

“You don’t have to love him yet,” her father chuckled. “All of that will come in time,” he soothed, his voice gentle. “Adelaide, my daughter, you are twenty-five. Many have married long before you. I feel it my duty to make a proper arrangement of marriage for you. I know I have made an excellent choice and, in time, you will be happy.”

“I don’t want to marry him,” Adelaide stated boldly, her fists clenching at her sides. “He’s too old, and I will not be sold off as part of some business transaction like I’m a parcel of land!”

“Adi.” Her father used her childhood pet name, trying to appeal to her usually reasonable nature. “You’re being dramatic! I would never do anything that I believed would hurt you. You need to trust me. Langley is a good match for you. Look how he dotes on you already.”

“He doesn’t dote on me! How could you dote on a stranger? It’s only an act he’s putting on for you. It wouldn’t be a marriage of love at all! It would forever be a business arrangement. I know this because I’ve seen how he treats other people, how he uses them!” Adelaide protested. “I won’t do it, Father. I simply won’t.”

“Adelaide, think on your words. Your mother would want nothing more for you than to be a happily married woman, as she was. We didn’t love each other at first,” he admitted. “That only developed over time, but she became the woman I loved more than any other person in the world, apart from you.”

Adelaide smiled reluctantly as she thought of Margaret, her mother, who had been easy to love because she had always given her own love freely. Every night, she would brush and braid Adelaide’s hair, and Adelaide would talk endlessly through their little routine. Her mother would patiently listen, never making Adelaide feel silly. She had always felt her mother at her side, reassuring her. Even just the memory of her calmed Adelaide.

“Thank you, Father,” she said, releasing a long breath. “Your mention of Mother assures me that I am correct in my convictions. If she were able to hear my reservations against Mr. Langley, I do not believe Mother would approve of this match, either. Please, Father. I cannot marry Edgar Langley.”

Charles’ eyes widened, and he turned away from her, his anger and hurt visible in the tight lines around his mouth.

“You are not thinking clearly, Adelaide. You are simply not experienced enough to make an informed decision. When your emotions have calmed, you will see Edgar Langley for the well-suited man that he is. You are my only family in this world, and I love you dearly -”

“Then listen to me -”

“Do not interrupt me!” he said sharply, his raised voice cutting her off.

Adelaide flinched away from him like a piece of paper torn from a book and tossed aside. Her father had never raised his voice at her before.

“I apologize,” he muttered gruffly. “Perhaps if you sleep on this, you will feel differently in the morning. Now,” he continued quickly, as Adelaide opened her mouth to speak, “that is enough of that this evening. Let us enjoy a civilized dinner together. I believe it is roast pork tonight.”

Adelaide lowered her gaze, forcing herself to appear submissive, her eyes following the swirls of the pattern on the carpet at her father’s feet. Her heart ached from knowing she had hurt her father, but it was not enough to quiet the misgivings she had about Edgar Langley.

“I’m not feeling well enough to accompany you,” Adelaide managed, her voice strained with emotion. “Please excuse me. I will retire early this evening.”

Her father paused before responding, looking Adelaide over critically.

“So be it,” he replied in a clipped tone, striding out of his office and slamming the door behind him.

***

It had been three days since she and her father had quarreled, and Adelaide had not left her room since. At this moment, she could hear whispering from the other side of her bedroom door. She crept closer, her loose hair hanging around her in a wave of tangled curls, and pressed her ear to the door, hearing her father’s muffled voice. The conversation ended almost immediately, and Adelaide darted back to her bed and disappeared under the covers.

Seconds later, the door creaked open, and footsteps entered.

“I’ve brought your dinner, Miss Adelaide,” Evelyne, her maid, addressed her. “And don’t worry, your father is still too angry to speak with you. Though I wish you’d make peace.”

“It’s not that simple,” Adelaide said as she appeared from the mess of sheets and blankets.

“My, Miss Adelaide, you don’t look yourself one bit,” Evelyne said with a sad smile. “Please come and have something to eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” Adelaide muttered, collapsing back against the pillows and staring out the window. “I feel like a caged bird.”

Evelyne carried the tray over and placed it on the table next to Adelaide’s bed. There was a bowl of soup, freshly baked bread, and some fresh fruit. On the side of the tray was the daily newspaper, which Evelyne brushed with her fingertips before moving away.

“I’m not hungry,” Adelaide replied stubbornly, turning her face away from the food.

Her stomach growled loudly.

“That’s enough of that,” Evelyne stated firmly. “I’m not going to watch you starve yourself to death over Mr. Edgar Langley.”

Evelyne was in her early thirties. She had soft brown hair, kind eyes, and a petite frame that still managed an immense amount of work without complaint. She’d been with Adelaide since they were both girls, and Adelaide often turned to her as a voice of reason, now even more so since her mother’s passing.

“Oh, Ev,” Adelaide sighed. “I don’t know what to do. My father believes this is best for me, but he cannot see things from my point of view.”

“I saw Mr. Langley yesterday -”

“He was here!” Adelaide groaned while dipping a hunk of bread in her soup and chewing it mulishly. After three days of starving herself, Adelaide forced herself to eat slowly, swallowing her soup one small spoonful at a time.

“I believe Mr. Langley wanted to see you,” Evelyne continued. “May I ask why you dislike him so?”

I know Mr. Langley seems nice enough in public, but I have seen through his act. He controls everything and everyone around him. He praises his servants in public, but I see how they cower. I’ve witnessed powerful businessmen shrink back when Edgar enters the room. He says I can plan the whole wedding, but that’s a lie to try and win my affection, as if I was so shallow,” she added with a scoff. “A man like Langley has all the power and money necessary to influence everyone around him, so can you imagine his reaction if I disagreed with him? I would be punished.”

Evelyne absorbed all this with a nod. She reached out a hand and squeezed Adelaide’s comfortingly.

“I didn’t like him either,” Evelyne admitted quietly. “There was something hard in him when I wouldn’t let him see you. He kept insisting, Miss. I became quite fearful, but your father arrived home at that time, and Mr. Langley quickly stepped away from me. Forgive my speaking out of turn, but I feel that you must not marry him,” she said earnestly. “He’d crush you.”

“Then what am I to do?” Adelaide cried. “I cannot hide in here forever. Each day that passes brings me one step closer to the wedding!”

“Try to be calm, Miss,” Evelyne soothed her. “I’ve brought you a little reading material to lift your spirits.”

Adelaide glanced down at the tray. “The daily newspaper is hardly going to lift my spirits.” She stabbed a piece of apple with the prongs of her fork and nibbled on it, trying to slow down even more when her stomach ached from the sudden impact of food.

“There are certain…” Evelyne paused, a dimpled smile appearing on her face. “Let’s say, advertisements that you might want to consider. Have you ever thought about going West?”

“West?” Adelaide laughed. “What on earth for?”

Evelyne shrugged. She picked up the newspaper and placed it on the bedside table, then removed the tray.

“Perhaps if you…” She dropped her voice to a whisper before continuing, “Married someone else before Mr. Langley could marry you, well then, you’d be saved, wouldn’t you?”

Adelaide touched her hand to her mouth in shock.

“Are you talking about mail-order bride advertisements?” Adelaide asked in a whisper so hushed, Evelyne had to lean in to hear her.

“It would be a fresh start for you,” Evelyne assured her.

“How would someone like me survive in the West? It’s so wild and lonely, and then men outnumber women by scores. It’s dangerous!”

Evelyne held a hand in the air as if to signal she meant no harm, still balancing the tray of dishes on her other hand. “It was just a thought, Miss Adelaide,” she said. “A way the bird could escape her cage.”

“And why marry one stranger to get away from another?” Adelaide half-whispered.

“I’ll bring you a cup of tea before bed,” Evelyne replied instead as she headed to the door. “And…at least it would be your choice, Miss, rather than someone chosen for you.”

Evelyne quietly closed the door behind her. Adelaide climbed out of her bed and started pacing across her bedroom while muttering to herself.

“Mail-order bride!” Adelaide shook her head in disbelief. “Ridiculous. How would I even get there? What kind of a man posts an advertisement for a wife anyway?”

Her curiosity got the better of her, though, and she flipped open the newspaper. She glanced casually at the list of advertisements, snorting in disbelief before striding away. An hour later, however, she was back, poring over each one and trying to imagine faces to match the printed names.

“Here’s one in Montana,” she noted, chewing on her last remaining fingernail. “Rancher seeking capable and hard-working woman to help raise two orphaned children aged 13 and 6, and assist with chores on the ranch,” she read. “Orphans…” she repeated sadly. “…no, I couldn’t.”

She walked to the window, opened the curtains, and stared out at the twilight purple sky. Despite what she had just said, Adelaide found herself daydreaming about a life in Montana, a child in one arm and a chicken in the other. She chuckled at the image, then fell abruptly silent at the chilling thought of entering a strange man’s life. What if he was cruel? What if he demanded certain…things from her, as a man might expect from a wife?

“What about ranch work!” she gasped, her fingers stinging with pain as she wrenched off another chunk of nail. “I could never!”

Adelaide raked her hands through her messy hair. What if this man was worse than Edgar Langley? She closed her eyes and recalled the way Edgar had looked at her and felt bile rise instantly to her mouth.

The fact that Edgar had tried to force a visit told her she would not be able to remain out of his clutches much longer. If she wanted any say in her future, she needed to start making decisions.

She began to consider her position more seriously. Reasoning with her father had not worked. She had no fortune of her own that could enable her to survive independently, and there were no relatives she could flee to. All her family friends would simply hand her back to her father.

The longer Adelaide considered her options, the more certain she became that she only had one. Taking a deep breath, Adelaide slowly stood upright. She straightened her shoulders and raised her chin.

“I have to try,” she whispered to herself.

When Evelyne brought a tray of tea hours later, Adelaide smiled at her. She had washed and brushed her hair and had already compiled a list of tasks she would need Evelyne to help her with. She felt calmer, and for the first time in days, the knot in her stomach had finally eased. Though she was anxious about her decision, she consoled herself with the fact that at least it had been her own.