Prologue

Boston, Massachusetts, 1886

Clara Whitmore stared at the document in front of her, her mind racing as she tried to process the many facts thrown at her all at once. She had an uncle? Most confounding of all, despite not even knowing her, he’d left her everything in his will? She blinked her brown eyes and stared for a little longer, not that she truly thought this would accomplish anything.

After a moment more, she started to feel the impatience of her family as they hovered around her, waiting for her reaction while they pretended to be quietly eating the bowls of stew set in front of each of them. So, with the pressure to respond building, Clara bit her lips together and tucked a strand of her brown hair behind an ear as she tried to muddle through what she was feeling.

Beneath the shock—she hadn’t even known she had an uncle!—there was a bit of sadness and a seedling of hope starting to spring up in her chest. The sadness stemmed from the fact that she’d lost an uncle without ever getting the chance to meet him or learn about him; however, she chose to focus on the hope.

Lifting her eyes to look at her family, Clara confidently announced, “I want to go there.”

This statement was met with a gasp of surprise from both her mother and her sister, everyone setting down their spoons as they ceased their pretense of eating, but her father remained his usual calm self as he asked her, “Are you sure?”

Clara nodded as she glanced back down at the will. “I am.”

“Really?” Nina asked incredulously, her voice a higher pitch than usual and her blue eyes wide. “I mean, sure, it sounds like an adventure, but you… None of us even knew you had any family until now! If you had an uncle this whole time, why didn’t he write, come to your parents’ funeral… something?”

Their mother nodded along and added with concern, “Nina’s right, dearie. While I’m ever so happy to have been able to adopt you into our family, well, your parents never mentioned having family out west in the time we knew them…”

As though by mutual agreement, they all turned to look at John, who gave a slight shrug. “As I told you when I handed it to you, I already looked into it to make sure it wasn’t some sort of scam before even bringing it home, and you must know I did a thorough job. I even put one of my deputies on it to double-check it through official channels. This will is quite real. Your father had a brother who recently died, and this will he wrote leaves his place to you.”

Everyone turned to look back at Clara, Nina speaking up once more to say, “You know, you don’t have to go all the way out into the New Mexico Territory just because you inherited a mine. You could stay here with us. I’d just… I’ll miss you so much if you leave…”

Clara bit her lips once more as she struggled to find the right words, picking up and toying with a spoon. “I know I could stay here—you’d let me stay here forever if I wanted—but… I feel like I need to do this. I… don’t get me wrong, you’ve raised me since I was five, and you’ll always be my family. You’re my mom and dad, and you’re my sister,” she quickly assured them as she looked at them each in turn.

“I just… I need to know more about the people my real parents were, and somewhere in a town in the New Mexico Territory, there are people who knew an uncle of mine and who might have met my parents or even know something more about my family history! And, even more, you’ve always known that I wanted to do something more with my life than just… the normal things that everyone else does. This is my chance!”

Clara hadn’t meant to grow so impassioned in her little speech, but the more she thought about it, the greater her desire became to try to grab this piece of her unknown history to see what she found. How could she possibly pass up on the opportunity to learn more about her family tree and also do something more with her life at the same time? She couldn’t.

“Well, I suppose we’ll have to start looking into a train ticket out west for you,” John stated as he went back to eating, the rest of the family following his example.

Clara’s eyes started to water due to the support and the many emotions of the last several minutes. While she had never wanted for anything, she knew how expensive it would be to get her a ticket for that long of a distance. She also knew they would insist on buying it for her and on giving her anything else they could help with.

Wiping at her eyes as she turned her attention to her food, she mentally resolved to cost them as little as possible for her trip.

In fact, she would go there, make the mine as profitable as possible—if it wasn’t already—and then send money back to her family here in Boston to bless them for all the ways they’d cared for her over the years! Just the thought was enough to make the idea of leaving them a little easier to bear.

Chapter One

Aleman, The New Mexico Territory, 1886

Two Months Later…

Clara paused where she stood, closing her eyes for a moment to take a deep breath in a vain effort to quell the butterflies in her stomach. She was finally here! The trip from Boston all the way here to Aleman had been exhausting and stressful, and she already missed her family dreadfully, but it would soon be worth it.

With her shoulders tense and stomach fluttering with a mixture of excitement and apprehension, she stepped off the train with a smile she hoped was more friendly than nervous. Almost instantly, she froze, nearly tripping herself as she finally saw what the town looked like.

The streets, for the most part, had no boards to walk on, just dirt. Even this main road looked cracked and full of potholes. The buildings seemed to be in the same state, with faded wood and equally faded paint that was peeling in places.

The false tops on the buildings, which made them appear taller, looked particularly ridiculous to her. However, this might have been because the buildings she was accustomed to were actually tall, not just pretending to be so.

She couldn’t even spot any signs telling her what the buildings were! How was she supposed to know where she was supposed to go?

There were very few people milling around, all clearly intent on their own matters. This made for a very empty and very quiet place. Clara was sure that it was louder in Boston at night than it was right now in Aleman. However, to be fair, there was undoubtedly more fresh air here, so it did smell better.

For a moment, she was distracted from her observations by the need to quickly ensure that all of her luggage made it off the train. A meek question to the ticket master, who was kind enough to help her with her luggage, confirmed that this was indeed the right town. This didn’t make her feel better.

Once she had everything with her, she turned her attention back to what was apparently the town of Aleman, mentally wondering if this place even met the requirements to be called a town. Well, it would undoubtedly be an adjustment, that was for sure!

It was only as she ran her free hand over the wrinkles that had gathered in her dress to smooth them out that Clara noticed what others around her were wearing. To be fair, she was wearing one of her nicest dresses to make a good impression, having been told this shade of bright blue was flattering for her complexion, but even knowing this, it didn’t stop her from feeling terribly overdressed.

Her dress only had a moderate amount of ruffles in the skirt, and the bustle at the back was relatively small. However, of the few women she could see moving around further in the town, not one had a bustle or any ruffles in their dresses at all. She didn’t think she even owned a dress so plain in color and design!

Doing her best to brush off the way her stomach was rolling around with nerves and the stares she was getting from the people of the town, none of which seemed friendly, she looked around for someone to help her with her luggage.

Realizing that no one was going to help her, she bit her lips as she focused on dragging her heavy luggage over in the general direction of the nearest building, where she hoped to get directions.

This really would have been so much easier with a smooth road or someone to help!

Coming from a big city meant she knew better than to leave her luggage anywhere, but she wished very much she could do so when her feet were already hurting by the time she reached the entrance of the closest building.

Peering inside, her first thought was: Of course, this was a saloon. There were only a handful of men inside, and it looked just as worn down as the rest of the town.

She let out a deep sigh and hoped it would be all right to step just inside the edge of the saloon without anyone stealing her luggage. She gave one parting look around to verify that no one was too close to her things.

So, with a deep breath, Clara stepped into the saloon. As she opened her mouth to speak, before she could even get a word out, a couple of the men inside who’d spotted her let out crassly appreciative whistles.

Face suddenly flaming, Clara’s mouth snapped shut, her spine stiffening as she was leeringly asked by one man with shoulder-length gray hair and yellowing teeth, “What are you doing in here, pretty thing?”

Deciding to believe he might be helpful, she replied, “I’m looking for someone who can tell me about my uncle and where he used to live. His name was—”

“Well, I don’t know about anyone’s uncle, sweetheart,” a different man with greasy blond hair rudely interrupted her as he stood from where he had been sitting. “Why don’t you come and sit down for a while to tell us more about him?”

Though the question itself might have been innocent in a different situation, Clara felt it to be anything but innocent. It was highly tempting to take a step back, but she determinedly stood her ground and firmly replied, “Thank you for the offer, but I’m afraid I must decline. I need to—”

“Come now, darlin’, don’t be like that!” the older man cut in with a grin as he also rose from his seat.

“I said no, thank you!” she snapped back, her voice louder now. In a calmer tone, she added, “I just want to find out about my uncle so I can know where I’m spending the night. Now, can one of you simply tell me where I can find the—”

“Well, I can think of a couple of places where you could spend tonight,” the blond man stated, interrupting her yet again as he started to move closer.

Stomping one foot and instantly regretting the way it hurt, Clara all but screeched, “Will you stop it?! Just tell me where I can find the law office in this town!” Then, realizing there might not be one in a town like this, she quickly added, “Wherever deeds or wills are dealt with in this town would work just fine too, but I’m not sticking around here.”

“What? Think you’re too good to hang around people like us?” the older man asked accusingly, taking a moment to aim a glob of spit toward a spittoon, which he missed. A lot of men had poor aim, if the appearance of the area around the spittoon was any indication.

She would certainly never associate with the type of men in front of her. However, she knew that admitting as much would not be a good idea.

She had no idea why, but she’d thought a smaller town would be friendlier, not… this. Her adopted father occasionally had a small drink with the men he worked with, so she had stepped inside saloons before, sometimes even by herself, to bring him something he’d forgotten or just to spend a couple of minutes with him when an errand brought her to the area and she knew he’d be there.

It had never been like this! Then again, she was starting to get the slight suspicion that the reason she’d never had any trouble was because her father was a sheriff. She was very aware right now of how far away the door was behind her, which was not something she had ever felt before.

Doing her best to push her fears to the side with a swallow, she decided to continue. After all, how hard could it really be to just get one single answer out of these men? The alternative was to lug around her things all over the town until she found the right place, and her feet already ached.

Telling herself she could do this, Clara took a deep breath, her voice forcibly calm and her words slow as she asked, “Where might the sheriff or deputy be at this time of day?”

Either of those people would surely be able to tell her where the right place was, though she half feared they would tell her they didn’t have a sheriff.

Her question seemed to make the men mad, especially the blond one, who came even closer as he angrily asked, “What do you need to know that for? Are you planning on trying to get us in trouble just for messing with you a bit?”

Clara instantly shook her head with a frown. “No. I just think they’d be more helpful in actually answering questions!”

They scowled at her, making it clear that her reply was not exactly appreciated. By now, Clara was on the verge of tears with frustration and was starting to tremble due to the intimidation she felt from the men in front of her. She even had to take a large step back to ensure she was out of grabbing range as they continued to move toward her, which her gut instinct said was a good plan to avoid at all costs.

“Well, maybe if you’d be a little friendly, we’d be more inclined to help you out, but it’s not our fault you’re too prissy to be nice,” the older man growled out, one of his hands forming a fist.

Though Clara wanted to leave now, she also didn’t want to turn her back on these men. A glance at the obese bartender made it clear he wouldn’t intervene should anything happen. Of the only other two men currently in the saloon, one was seemingly too drunk to even notice her, while the other looked at her with such open hunger that it made her spine shiver.

As she was trying to figure out the best way to leave, she heard the door of the saloon swing open behind her, causing her to freeze. All things considered, the odds of the man behind her being any different from the ones in front of her seemed very low.

“What seems to be going on in here?” a deep, gravelly voice asked behind her.

When she noticed the men in front of her scowling and backing off as they assured him that nothing was going on at all, she felt a spark of hope.

Slowly turning her head, the first thing she noticed was the size of the newcomer. He was about a full head taller than her; his black hair and the scruff on his face made him look intimidating, his intense gray eyes only adding to the effect.

It was only when his eyes met hers that she realized she had zoned out for a second or two. In quickly averting her gaze, she caught sight of the badge on his chest and instantly sagged a little in relief. Thank the Lord, he was the sheriff! She could finally get the help she needed!

She nearly fell over due to how quickly and thoroughly her muscles relaxed, practically beaming as the sheriff stated, “Leave the lady alone and don’t be causing trouble.”

Finally, her day was starting to look up!

Chapter Two

Aleman, The New Mexico Territory, 1886

Letting out a sigh of relief as the nasty men from the saloon backed away, Clara wasted no time in addressing the sheriff, saying with a grateful smile, “Thank you so much!”

Though the sheriff had momentarily turned his gaze to the other men in the room, probably to ensure they didn’t try anything, his eyes met hers again when she spoke. She instantly got the impression that he wasn’t currently in a friendly mood, if his scowl at her was any indication.

“What are you doing in here anyway if you didn’t want the likes of them messing with you?” he gruffly asked as he took another step into the room before turning and, with a hand on her arm, firmly ushered her out of the saloon.

“Well, I was just trying to ask for directions and, well, I wasn’t expecting it to be like that. I honestly wouldn’t have set a foot in there, but it was the nearest building to where the train dropped me off,” Clara babbled as she gladly left the building and went over to quickly verify that no one had touched her things.

Relieved to see everything in order, she turned back to the sheriff with a bright smile. “Oh, and I’m so sorry, I haven’t even introduced myself! How rude of me. My name is Clara Whitmore.”

She held out her hand to him, feeling quite hopeful when she thought she might have caught a flicker of recognition at her last name. The sheriff didn’t shake her hand; instead, he looked her up and down, not in a lecherous way like the men in the saloon had, but more like he was trying to size her up.

It was enough to make her unable to resist the urge to straighten her spine, as it was clear to her that he was trying to gauge what sort of person she was.

“This isn’t a place for tourists,” he eventually replied, much to Clara’s unfiltered shock. “The train won’t be back by for a few days, but there’s a stage going back east tomorrow that should have room for you,” he added. And then the man had the audacity to turn as though he was going to leave her!

“Excuse me!” Clara hastily walked to intercept him, the heel of one shoe nearly tripping her due to an unevenness in the ground. “For your information, I am not a tourist! I had an uncle who apparently lived here. In fact, you might have recognized my last name. Whitmore? Anyway, I just need to make sure where his place is, and I also want to check out his mine, both of which I seem to have inherited.”

Was she babbling? Yes, but she thought she could be excused, considering how awful her day had been so far. It was only when he just stared at her, looking thoroughly unimpressed, that she realized she hadn’t technically asked him anything.

Taking a deep breath and letting it all out at once, she decided to try again. “Right. I would be most appreciative if you could tell me where my uncle’s place is or direct me to someone who would know. Can you please do that at least?”

After a moment longer of staring at her incredulously, the sheriff huffed and replied, “The right direction for you is back east to whatever big city you clearly came from.”

Clara’s mouth gaped open in pure outrage as he then walked away without helping her at all. Was everyone in this town unbearably rude? Snapping her mouth closed, she stormed over to her luggage and sat on it to ponder her next move.

Fortunately, she had left her things just to the side but out of the direct line of sight of the saloon door, so she felt relatively safe enough to gather her thoughts for a moment. What would she do if everyone in this town was as unfriendly as she’d seen so far?

She scowled at the idea of giving up, especially so soon after arriving. Surely, there had to be some nice people here, right? If there weren’t… well, at the very least, she should still stay long enough to see what her uncle’s place was like and carry out her plan of optimizing the mine. Then maybe she could find someone who would be a reliable foreman, and if it was still unbearable here, she could leave her foreman in charge and head somewhere else.

Hopefully by then, though, she would have found someone capable of holding a friendly conversation. She really wanted to like it here.

With this course of action decided upon, she rose to her feet with renewed purpose. She was going to find someone to help her, and she would spend the night in her uncle’s home!

***

Fortunately for Clara, things took an upward turn for her after the sheriff left her. The very next person she came across actually provided her with the information she needed, telling her to ask at the small general store for someone to give her a lift. She also learned the name of that horrid sheriff: Ash Montgomery.

When she’d gone to the general store, after mentally noting where it was placed on the street, the owner of the store had been helping another customer, so she’d needed to wait. This wasn’t a bad thing, though, as it allowed her to finish putting herself together after the incident in the saloon, her posture returning to one of confidence by the time he was done.

“What do you need?” he asked her, his voice sounding impatient.