Winter picked up Kora’s gifts and moved around Jamie, giving her as much room as possible. When he was safely on the other side of the kitchen, he asked, ‘‘Where’s Kora?’’

He prepared to duck as Jamie pried the dough off her fingers and tried to spread it in smaller pieces into the pan. ‘‘She’s not here. Doc came by a few hours ago and asked her to go with him. He says he’s got a man down the road who’s got to be operated on or he’ll die for sure.’’

Jamie attacked the pan once more. ‘‘He could have asked me, even if I wouldn’t have answered him ’cause I’m never going to speak to him again as long as I live. But no! He runs up here like the house is on fire and begs Kora to go with him to the Breaks Settlement.’’ Jamie looked up, her eyes dancing with mischief. ‘‘So she leaves me to cook supper for you and Cheyenne.’’ Jamie laughed. ‘‘Exciting, ain’t it?’’

‘‘I’m not hungry.’’ Winter wasn’t sure he trusted her cooking.

‘‘Me, either!’’ Cheyenne yelled from the dining room behind Winter. ‘‘I’d rather eat my own knuckle than your cooking, Jamie.’’

‘‘Well, good!’’ Jamie yelled back. ‘‘Then all I’ll have to make is the gravy.’’

Winter waved at Cheyenne and climbed the stairs as they continued to yell at each other. For a moment he remembered when the house was silent and all he had to suffer through was the loneliness. It seemed like a much simpler life.

He straightened the things on Kora’s desk without fully taking his gaze from the window and the road beyond. If the doc had any sense, he’d have Kora home before dark. The Breaks Settlement, as everyone called it, was really just a group of drifters and folks down on their luck who lived along the southeast boarder of Winter’s ranch. The land wasn’t any good for farming or running cattle, so as far as Winter knew, no one owned it, but the uneven hills of rock offered shelter from the wind. Sometime after the War Between the States, men started camping out there when passing through. Buffalo hunters probably built the first shacks, and the place didn’t look as if it had been improved upon since. Some of the drifters had stayed, finding work on nearby ranches when they had to, but mostly they just lived off the land.

The sun set without him seeing any sign of her return. The settlement wasn’t the kind of place he liked to think of Kora being after dark. He washed and put on a clean shirt, telling himself that she’d be home when he finished. He’d grown used to supper being ready and her having everything in order when he came home. Even on those late nights, he could sense her near, and just knowing she was upstairs asleep was calming.

But he couldn’t feel her presence now. Not even when he went to her dressing area and set the bag of lady’s things on the stool. She’d left everything in order. His large hand felt awkward touching her belongings. Almost as if he were touching her.

Finally he went downstairs, knowing he’d waited as long as he could. Jamie and Cheyenne had stopped yelling at each other. In fact, the house was dark except for the kitchen.

When Winter walked into the kitchen, he was surprised for the second time in an hour. Cheyenne stood by the stove frying eggs. He leaned heavily on a wooden crutch, but he managed well. Jamie still sat at the table, the dough no closer to being reincarnated into a pie crust. Dan sat in the corner with his chair turned to face the window.

‘‘Want some eggs?’’ Cheyenne offered. ‘‘I cooked enough for you and Dan.’’

‘‘No, thanks,’’ Winter answered as he crossed the room. ‘‘I’m going to ride out to meet Kora and the doc.’’

‘‘Good idea.’’ Cheyenne’s concern mirrored Winter’s. ‘‘I’d go with you if I could. You think you can find her in the settlement?’’

‘‘If she’s still in the settlement, I’ll find her.’’

He heard Jamie saying something about maybe they stopped to look at the stars, but Winter wasn’t listening. Suddenly the urgency to find Kora was a hunger he could wait no longer to satisfy.

SIXTEEN


WINTER RODE THROUGH THE NIGHT PUSHING HIS horse faster as he approached the settlement. He was slowed by staying with the road, but he didn’t want to take any chance of passing Dr. Gage in the dark. The wind had turned cold and whirled around him, making him think he heard things when nothing was there. Clouds blocked the moon and most of the stars. By the time he saw the lights of the Breaks Settlement, he could taste icy rain in the air. But the moisture did little to cool his anger. This was no place for a lady after dark.

The number of shacks had doubled since he’d last ridden by the area, and several outdoor campfires dotted the uneven land. Breaks Settlement was a deformed town with no businesses or patterns of streets. There were no schools, or churches, or even barns. Most of the horses were corralled in a small boxed canyon near the end of the settlement. Lodgings were as simple as wagons turned on their side against the wind or crude houses made of anything handy, waterproofed with thick layers of sod for warmth.

Win lowered his hat and silently urged his horse to pick his way through the scattering of trash along trails marked by ruts. He fought the urge to raise his bandanna from his throat, for the smell was worse than riding drag on a cattle drive.

Anger toward Gage for bringing Kora to this place began to bubble over in his mind. He liked the young doctor, but the man should have considered Kora’s safety if not his own.

He rode among the dwellings looking for any sign of the doc’s buggy. But the lights in the shacks were small, and the tiny beams escaping from between cracks offered little help as the night grew darker.

The hollow sound of a mouth harp drifted through the air. Win turned toward what looked to be the largest dwelling. Voices grew from the sounds of the night to human pitch as he came upon a long lean-to rigged with a tarp from a couple of Conestogas.

‘‘Evenin’.’’ The harp music stopped, and a man stood at the edge of the covered area. He was rail thin, and the rags he wore made it seem as if his clothes were fringed in the darkness.

Three tables were set up beneath the covering, and Win could make out a dozen men, maybe more, playing cards. Large jugs of home brew dotted the dirt. Win guessed he’d have to down half a jug of the home brew before he could stomach the smell of unwashed humans and open outhouses.

‘‘Somethin’ I can do for you?’’ The harp player was no more friendly than his music had been cheery.

Win didn’t raise his hat as he would have done to talk to someone in town. He wasn’t sure it would be wise to let anyone see his face. He recognized two of the men at the closest table as cowhands he’d had to fire a few months back for drinking.

‘‘I come looking for the doc.’’ He kept his voice low, hoping only the harp player would hear it.

‘‘Haven’t seen him.’’ The man snorted a laugh. ‘‘He ain’t a regular around the tables.’’

Winter clicked at his horse and began to back away. He saw no need to thank the man.

The harp player lifted the wire to his mouth, but just before he played, he added, ‘‘If anyone here’s in need of a doc, it’s probably Miller down by the creek. I heard he got shot a while back.’’

‘‘Thanks.’’ Win turned his horse toward the creek.

After passing several empty campsites, he spotted the doctor’s buggy pulled up to a sod house. The light barely escaped through the oilcloth hanging over the two tiny windows in front, but Win could see that a lamp burned inside.

Just as he leaned forward to swing his leg to the ground, the door of the place opened. Win had his Colt halfway out of its holster before he saw Kora step from the doorway.

Her arms were loaded down with rags, and her hair was as bright as sunshine with the firelight behind her. She dropped the rags in a basket by the door and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.

‘‘Kora?’’ He said her name so low he wasn’t sure it had passed his lips.

She looked up.

‘‘Kora!’’ Dr. Gage yelled from inside. ‘‘Hurry!’’

With only a moment’s hesitation, she turned back inside, leaving the door open.

Win swung from the saddle and tied his horse to the doc’s buggy. He walked slowly to the doorway, already guessing what he might see.

The cabin was filthy, as he’d expected. It looked more like a rat’s nest than a human’s home. A man lay in front of the fire on a crude cot made of ropes and logs. Dr. Gage knelt over him working frantically on his chest. His hands were spotted in blood to the elbow, and his face was dripping sweat. Kora stood beside him following rapid-fire orders.

Win watched as his little wife, who shied away from him, helped Dr. Gage like a seasoned nurse. He wanted to be mad because she’d left without telling him, because she’d put herself in danger, because she’d worried him half to death. Because she’d left Jamie to cook. But he couldn’t be angry. Not with the pride welling in him.

‘‘I’ve got it!’’ the doc yelled as he pulled a hand from halfway inside the man’s chest. ‘‘The bullet is out.’’