.

Prologue
Washington D.C., February 1883

Emily Harris pressed the telegram from her brother-in-law against her chest and felt the rapid beating of her heart beneath her palm. Maggie and little Sheridan. She couldn’t bear it if anything were to happen to her sister and her youngest nephew.

She looked again at the brief message.

Emily couldn’t imagine not having Maggie to turn to when she needed help or advice. Her sister had raised her, loved her, protected her, been as much a mother as a sister to her.

She must find Professor Abraham at once. Arrangements must be made to return to Idaho as quickly as possible. If Maggie was asking for her, it had to be serious. She hadn’t a moment to waste.

Chapter One
Boise City, September 1883

It was mid-afternoon when Gavin Blake drove the wagon down Boise City’s Main Street. The territorial capitol had grown in the years since his last visit. There had to be several good physicians living here these days. One of them would be able to help Drucilla. If he didn't believe that, he never would have agreed to undertake this trip.

He turned toward his wife. A tall and plain woman, her kind and giving spirit more than made up for whatever outward beauty she lacked. Everyone who knew Dru loved her. Which only made it harder on Gavin, seeing her as she was now¾too thin, too frail, exhaustion from a week of travel written in her hazel eyes.

Not that she’d given him much choice. Dru’s will hadn’t weakened along with her body. It was still hard as flint.

At least the weather had been warm for their trip. He'd made her a comfortable bed in the back of the wagon so she could rest whenever she wanted, and at night they'd lain beneath the blankets, staring at the stars and talking about what Dru wanted for Sabrina and Petula. Sometimes listening to her¾hearing the calm acceptance in her voice¾made him angry. He wanted to rail against her illness¾and against God for letting her get sick in the first place. Hadn’t she suffered enough?

Gavin stopped the wagon in front of the Overland Hotel. After setting the brake, he hopped to the ground.

"Come on.” He held his arms toward her. “Let's get you into a nice, soft bed."

"Shouldn't we go to the newspaper office first?"

"I'll take care of that later."

"Gavin, I¾"

"You heard me. Come on."

Dru acquiesced with a nod. "I suppose you're right, but we came all this way to¾"

"I know why we came.” His tone was gruff, though he didn’t mean for it to be. He wasn’t angry at her.

It never failed to alarm him when he lifted her down from the wagon and his fingers overlapped around her waist. He remembered when she was pregnant, her body ripe and round like a pumpkin, her face rosy, her eyes shining with happiness. That seemed a lifetime ago. Look at what had happened in the few years since then. First her son was stillborn, then Charlie died, and now this. If only he could take her back east to one of those fine hospitals. If only he were wealthy. If only there was more he could do for her.

"Gavin?" Her cool fingers touched his cheek. "Let's go inside.'

Without a word, he placed a solicitous arm around her back and guided her into the lobby of the hotel.

# # #

Wanted: Governess and teacher for two young girls on mountain ranch. Separate living quarters. Apply Mrs. Blake, Overland Hotel, after 2:00 PM Friday.

Emily set down the newspaper and stared out the window at the tall poplars, cottonwoods, and willows growing alongside the river. A warm breeze lifted wisps of hair across her forehead and caressed her skin with the last breath of summer. A large blowfly buzzed beneath the porch awning, bumping into the window, then flying away before returning to try again.

Perhaps the insect seemed noisy because the house was so silent. Kevin, Colleen, Tara Maureen, and Colin—Maggie's four oldest children—were all in school. Sheridan, at four the baby of the family, had gone into town with his mother for some shopping. And Emily was here alone with time weighing heavy on her mind.

She left the dining room and wandered into the parlor. There, her fingers caressed the photographs and knickknacks as she moved about the room. Memories. Lots of memories. Happy ones too. And yet she felt out of place here. She was restless and impatient with her life. Nothing seemed to be going as she wanted.

Not that she was entirely sure what that entailed. What did she want?

For many weeks after her hasty return last winter from Washington, D.C., she had gladly cared for her sister and young nephew, nursing them back to health, praying for their recovery, seeing to their every need. She had mothered the older children, reassuring them that all would be well. And she’d spent many a late evening sitting with Tucker in this very room, offering her brother-in-law what comfort she could.

But the Branigan household had long since returned to normal. Although wanted, she knew, Emily wasn’t needed any longer.

Should she return to Washington? Despite how much she had enjoyed her work, that option no longer felt right. But what awaited her here? Marriage? A family of her own? She didn’t feel ready for those things yet. In fact, she had turned down a proposal from Matthew Foreman only one week before.

No, she wanted to do something before she married. She wanted to make some sort of difference in the world. If only she knew what.

She shook her head and walked back toward the dining room, pausing by the window and staring across the yard toward the river. Bed sheets fluttered in the golden September sunlight. Tucker's old collie lay in the shade of a poplar, his tail slapping the dried grass in a lazy, steady rhythm.

She sighed as she turned from the window. Her gaze fell upon the folded newspaper, laying on the oak table where she’d left it moments ago.

Look at it, her heart seemed to say.

She took up the paper and read the ad a second time.

Her pulse quickened. This could be it. This was something she could do. She’d lived on a ranch since she was six, so that prospect didn’t daunt her. Cattle and horses and cowhands were a part of her history.

She certainly knew how to teach. She’d received a wonderful education and had countless things she could share with two young girls. And after living all these years with Maggie’s brood, she knew a thing or two about acting like a governess to children, even if she’d never been employed as one.

Yes, this was something she could do. She was sure of it.

Did she dare apply for the job?

# # #

Drucilla Blake awakened slowly from her nap. On days like this, when she felt no pain, it was hard to believe she was dying. Tired, yes. Dying, no.

She pushed herself up on the pillows, then swept her hair back from her face as she looked at the watch pinned to the bodice of her dress. 1:15. She would have to get up if she was to meet people at two o’clock.

A cold feeling engulfed her chest, and she closed her eyes, her fingers still clutching the watch. What if no one came? Or what if they came and no one was right? It was important to find the right woman. Not just for Sabrina and Petula, but for Gavin too.

It wasn't right what she'd done to him. When that old sawbones told her she was dying, she should have left the ranch. She should have taken the children and gone. But to where? She had no other family, no way to support herself. What would have happened to Sabrina and Petula if she’d left the basin and taken them to a strange place? No, she’d had to stay. The Idaho mountains were where she would end her days, where she would be buried beside Charlie and her stillborn son.

She filled her lungs with a deep breath, then straightened and lowered her legs over the side of the bed. There was no time to feel sorry for herself. She had come to terms with her illness months ago. Gavin would love and care for the children. He was that sort of man. She had only this one last detail to attend to, and then she would be able to die in peace.

She rose from the bed and walked toward the bureau, glancing into the mirror as she picked up the hairbrush. That was a mistake. Her reflection depressed her. She looked far older than her thirty-five years. Her illness had taken its toll, turning her brown hair gray and leaving her eyes dull and lifeless.

Lowering her gaze, she tidied her hair and smoothed her dress with the flat of her hands, then left the bedroom.

In the small sitting room, Gavin stood at the window, gazing down at the busy street below. Dru paused a moment to look at him. His black hair was shaggy around his shirt collar, badly in need of trimming. She should have seen to that before they left the basin.

He must have heard something, for he turned to face her. "Did you sleep?"

She nodded.

"Are you hungry?"

"No. I don't think I could eat anything."

"You barely touched your breakfast." It was a tender admonishment.

She shook her head and turned toward the nearby sofa. She hated to see that look in his eyes. It made her feel guilty for all she had put him through, all she had yet to put him through.

"I wonder what the girls are doing this afternoon," Gavin said.

She understood the motive behind his words. He wanted to cheer her with thoughts of the children. She loved him for it.

"Probably out riding with Stubs,” he continued. “The boys ought to have the cows rounded up by the time we get back."

"I wish we didn't have to leave the summer range so soon." Dru imagined the majestic peaks of the rugged Sawtooth Mountains and the log house that lay in their shadows. No one needed to tell her she wouldn’t see another spring in the Stanley Basin.

Her husband came to sit beside her. "Dru, I want you to see the doctor before we leave Boise."

She offered a faint smile. "Don't, Gavin. We both know it won't make any difference."

Before he could contradict her, they were interrupted by a knock. Dru's gaze snapped toward the door.

"They're early," she whispered.

Dear God, please bring us the right woman.

.