Chapter 1

1

Summit County, Colorado

October 1879

Maisy Merritt kissed her sister's burning forehead. "Don't die while I'm gone, y'hear?"

Lying in the cabin's only bed, Nelly didn't move—not to blink or twitch or hardly even to breathe.

Maisy smoothed the young woman's hair back, the red strands tangled from the thrashing earlier in the week. If only to have the thrashing again instead of this deathlike stillness.

Urgency swelled inside Maisy—the same urgency that had been prodding her for the past day. Even though she didn't want to leave her sister alone, she had to go for help.

She straightened and peered through the slit in the gingham curtains. The dawn sky was beginning to lighten, and now she could see the boulders and fir trees surrounding the cabin along with the jagged peaks to the west.

It was time to go. She'd delayed long enough.

Letting the curtain fall into place, she shifted back to Nelly and allowed herself one last look. It might be the final time she'd see her sister alive.

Maisy wasn't fooling herself with wishful thinking. She knew the truth. Nelly had given up the will to live the day her newborn babe had died, so when the fever struck, she hadn't wanted to do a lick of fighting.

Her sister's sweet face was flushed with the heat that had been raging all week since shortly after the birthing. Even in her dying moments, Nelly was still so pretty, with her rounded face, wide cheeks, and pert nose with a smattering of freckles. Her long auburn lashes were almost a dark brown as they rested against her tanned skin, hiding away her eyes.

Everyone always remarked how much Maisy looked like Nelly, was a younger version except shorter and more petite. And it was true. The two of them shared the same bright-red hair, blue-green eyes, and freckles they'd inherited from their ma.

While they looked a lot alike, that's where the similarities ended. Nelly was three years older than Maisy's eighteen years, but sometimes it felt like ten, since Nelly had always been more serious and responsible, falling into a mothering role after their ma had died when Maisy was only twelve.

In addition to becoming the caretaker of the family, Nelly was naturally docile and quiet and even-tempered. She'd married Glenn the way their pa had wanted her to. And she'd never gotten angry that Pa and Glenn were gone for weeks at a time with their mountain-man duties.

Maisy tossed a glare at the door, imagining her burly pa standing there. "If you'd come back when you said you were gonna, then maybe Nelly could've had the doctor looking after her by now."

But of course, Pa and Glenn hadn't returned in mid-September the way they'd planned. And now that October was well underway, they hadn't been here when Nelly had gone into labor.

After two miscarriages and a previous stillbirth, Nelly had held such high hopes that this time, everything would be different. Maisy was no midwife, but she'd been around enough birthings to know the way of things. And when the tiny girl had slipped lifelessly into Maisy's waiting arms, she'd done everything she could to revive the babe, but nothing had helped.

Nelly hadn't cried. But Maisy had shed enough tears for both of them, especially when she'd had to dig a hole in the ground and lay the babe in it.

Maisy swiped up the rucksack she'd packed with provisions for the two-day hike out of Arapahoe Valley to Breckenridge, the nearest town. If she didn't have any delays and didn't stop for long at night, she might be able to reach the doctor in a day and a half.

"Hang on till I get back." She squeezed Nelly's arm and waited, watching Nelly's face for some sign of understanding. But there was nothing, had been nothing for too many hours.

Reluctantly, Maisy let go and forced her feet away from the bed and across the one-room cabin that was crowded with the bed in one corner, stove in another, and a table with benches at the center. Every other available space was crammed full of clutter: animal pelts, snowshoes, metal traps, several rifles, oiled canvas, coils of rope, maps, and more.

Sprawled out in front of the door, Smoke raised his head, his pointed ears lifting to their full height, his keen golden eyes locking on her.

She nodded at the wolf. "Time to go."

Smoke pushed up, standing on his lanky legs, his thick fur a mixture of light gray and white, with patches of darker gray around his eyes and down his snout. He was on the small side, having been the runt of his litter when she rescued him. Even so, when he stood, he was taller than most dogs.

She grabbed her heaviest wool coat from one of the pegs near the door. She was already wearing corduroy trousers underneath her skirt, along with her thick leather boots and two layers of wool socks. During the three years she'd lived in the mountains of Colorado, she'd learned the unpredictable nature of the weather and knew better than to head out unprepared, especially in the autumn, when anything could happen.

After shrugging into her coat, she slipped on the gray Stetson Tanner had given her last year for Christmas. He'd teased her when he'd given it to her, telling her he was tired of her taking his coonskin cap whenever he came to visit.

It fit her head perfectly, as if he'd had it custom made just for her. Although he hadn't admitted to it, she suspected that was what he'd done, because he was always a thoughtful and generous friend.

Too bad he hadn't hiked up to see them recently. He could have helped her with Nelly or at least advised her on what to do. He probably would've gone to town for her.

But she hadn't seen him in weeks. Six weeks and four days, to be exact.

She could admit she was counting. With every new day that passed, the twist in her gut pinched tighter. It was the longest he'd ever gone between visits. Where was he? Had something happened to him? Or had he finally moved on from the area?

Tanner was, after all, a trapper and trail guide, just like her pa and brother-in-law. Such men were never content in one place for long. Three years was about the longest her pa had ever lived anywhere, which meant they'd be moving before too long. Probably the only reason they hadn't moved yet was because Nelly had been in the family way, and Pa had wanted her to have the babe first.

No doubt when he and Glenn came back from traipsing all over kingdom come, they'd pack up and head out first thing now that they didn't have the babe to worry about.

They might not have Nelly to worry about either... unless the doctor could get to her fast.

"C'mon." She patted Smoke on the head, then opened the door.

The chill of the night lingered in the dawn air along with the heavy scent of pine and woodsmoke. A fine layer of white glistened over everything, the first snow of the new season. It would melt off as soon as it was touched by the sun later in the morning. But for now, it sparkled real pretty-like.

The mountainside was cloaked in silence. Not even Roscoe the racoon was chattering at the early hour, and there was no sight of the little creature in the hollow fir tree behind the cabin where he made his home.

She'd rescued Roscoe too, just as she had countless other animals over the years. She always did her best to keep them only long enough to integrate them into the wild. Smoke, however, had refused to leave her. Every time she'd tried to make him go, he'd always come back.

Now that he was two and old enough to be on his own, she'd expected him to run off, look for a mate, and start his own pack. But he hadn't gone yet, wasn't even restless.

In the meantime, Smoke was a good companion.

The wolf loped ahead of her before pausing and growing still, his gaze on the woodland beside the cabin. There, in the thick growth, stood two elk, grazing on the low golden leaves left on an aspen. The creatures stopped midchew to stare, poised to run off.

Smoke lowered his ears, his predatory nature kicking in. She'd encouraged him to be independent and learn to hunt on his own. And at times he disappeared for a day or two to track and kill prey.

"Later," she said to him.

He watched the elk another moment before dropping his head and continuing along the trail that led down the mountain.

Even though the latch on the cabin door was broken, she made sure the door was secured, situated the rucksack on her back, then started after Smoke. If she'd had one of the horses, she could've made the trip in a day. But of course, Pa and Glenn had taken both, leaving her and Nelly stranded in the wilderness as usual.

"I will never, ever marry a mountain man." Her words echoed in the silence—words she'd declared often over the years. But this time, more so than ever, the frustration of living with mountain men churned inside her.

Smoke glanced back at her as if to commiserate.

"It's selfish, that's what," she said. "Running off and leaving the womenfolk behind to take care of the home and fend for themselves."

Nelly and Ma might have been content with that type of life and family, but not her. Maisy wanted a normal life with a normal home and a normal husband. And just as soon as she could branch off on her own and seek a normal future, she would.

For now, though, she wasn't at liberty to pursue what she wanted. Not as long as Nelly was alive. As responsible and adultlike as Nelly was, Maisy couldn't leave her alone whenever Pa and Glenn were gone.

How would Nelly hunt or fish or search for edible roots and berries—all the things Maisy had learned to do? How would Nelly survive for weeks without talking to anyone, not even the wild animal pets? And how would Nelly be able to handle questionable strangers passing by or even cantankerous neighbors like Lester Acker and his passel of sons?

At the edge of the level rise where Pa had built the cabin, Maisy stopped and peered to the river valley to the south. Had the sky been clear and bright, she would have been able to see the smoke rising from the Ackers' cabin downstream along the banks of Gold Bend River. As their closest neighbor, Lester was anything but helpful and had only stirred up trouble since claiming his land over a year ago.

Now that he had a small herd of cattle, he'd grown even more feisty and was gunning for Smoke something fierce. He'd already been up to the cabin a couple times over the past few weeks, accusing Smoke of terrorizing his cattle. Just last week, he'd warned her to keep Smoke away or else he'd kill the wolf.

She didn't think Smoke wandered as far as Lester's ranch. Or at least, she hoped not. Most likely the rancher was mistaking Smoke for one of the other dozens of wolves that lived in the area.

In spite of all her assurances, Lester seemed to think Smoke was behind every attack, as if the lone wolf was general of an army and coordinating offensives against him.

Unfortunately, Lester wasn't the only one with a vendetta against the gray wolves in the state. Most ranchers despised wolves because the creatures were killing more cattle since their natural food source of bison had become so depleted over the years.

Maisy understood the dilemma. Tanner had grown up on a horse ranch near Breckenridge and had explained the wolf problem during one of his visits. Even so, she hated the mass killing of wolves the same way she despised the mass killing of the buffalo.

Whatever the case, Maisy couldn't run off and leave Nelly to fend for herself in the mountains. If Nelly survived this stillbirth, it would take time to recover—maybe even weeks if the last one was any indication. Nelly would need her to be there more than ever.

With a sigh, Maisy started down the sloping path, planting each step carefully. Though the path was gravelly and rough, the thin layer of snow was still slick.

"Why couldn't you build down along the river like everyone else?" The grumbling question to her pa was loud in the early morning, causing Smoke to glance at her again.

While she loved the view from the clearing around the cabin, the hike up and down the mountain was treacherous even in the best conditions. But that was the way it was with her pa. He was stubborn and opinionated and always liked to be different.

"Look where that got you. A dead wife, and now possibly a dead daughter." She glanced around to the thick woodland that covered the hillside, half expecting him to come wandering down the mountain in his buckskin coat and leggings, his rifle slung across one shoulder and a stack of furs across the other.

She'd never doubted that her pa loved her and Nelly and their ma. He was an affectionate man and hadn't married again in the years since Ma's passing, claiming that he'd never love another woman half as much as he had Ma.

But what Maisy couldn't understand was, if he'd loved Ma so much, why had he left her for such long stretches? Why hadn't he wanted to be with her every day and night? How had he been able to live being away from her? Hadn't he realized how lonely and sad she got every time he left?

Maisy's foot slipped, and she grabbed the root of a spruce tree that was dangling from the sloping embankment on one side of the trail. On the other side, the vegetation and trees gave way to a rocky cliffside that bordered the river valley below.

She would have to descend the treacherous trail for another hour or so before reaching the level ground. From there, she'd be able to go much more rapidly, using the trail along the river as her guide. If she was lucky, she'd be able to reach Tanner's cabin by nightfall. And if she was really lucky, maybe he'd be home.

"Please be home," she whispered, a strange desperation welling within her—a desperation for someone who would understand and care and want to help. She had no one else now that Nelly was so ill.

The truth was, Tanner had become her closest friend since moving to the area. And even though she only saw him every couple of weeks, their friendship always seemed to pick up right where they'd left off. Even with the five-year gap in age, they had always been able to talk easily, and she loved the way he teased her—as if she were his sister.

She could admit that, at times, she'd felt more than sisterly feelings toward Tanner. It was hard not to when he was so charming and had a lopsided grin that could knock the breath from her lungs.

Confound it all, but he was good-looking enough to win a prize for being Colorado's handsomest man. His features were strong and masculine and always so full of life and energy. He had brown hair the color of a beaver pelt and brown eyes just as rich. His jaw and chin were covered in a perpetual layer of dark scruff, which only added to his ruggedness.

Even though she'd always battled attraction to him, she'd done her best to ignore the fluttering and flopping that went on in her stomach whenever he was around. Because the simple fact was, he'd never shown an interest in her beyond friendship. Even if he had, she wouldn't have been willing to let anything more than friendship develop. He was a mountain man through and through and could never offer her the normal life she longed for.

"Tanner Oakley, you're a good man," she said as she wobbled again and grasped at the rocky bank to steady herself. "But it doesn't matter how good you are; all you'll ever be is my friend."

Regardless, she hoped he'd be home and could help her with Nelly.

Fresh urgency prodded her again. "Hold on, Nelly."

Maisy picked up her pace. If she didn't go faster, Nelly wouldn't survive.

Ahead, Smoke halted, then shifted around, his golden eyes landing upon her warily, as if to warn her.

But before she could assure the wolf that she was fine, her feet slid in the snow, and she careened toward the edge of the path. Before she could grab on to another root, she slipped and fell to her backside.

She flailed and tried to find something to hold, but the ground beneath her was too slick. In the next instant, she was sliding over the embankment into a free fall toward the dark chasm below.

Her heart flew up into her throat, cutting off a scream. She was gonna crash to the rocky bottom a hundred feet below.

Her feet hit something, and her body jolted to an abrupt halt, cushioned by her rucksack. Even so, the impact knocked the wind from her lungs.

She hadn't fallen all the way—must have landed on an outcropping.

She pushed up to get a better view, but her feet again began to slip out from underneath her. Rapidly, she scrambled backward until her back connected with the cliffside. Her fingers latched on to a shrub growing from a crack in the rocks, and she clasped it tightly, fighting against the slippery coating of ice that threatened to pull her toward the abyss and her death below.

As she steadied herself, she gasped for a breath, and her heartbeat echoed loudly in her chest. Was she safe? At the very least, she was alive.

Though shadowed, the faint light of dawn illuminated the area around her, revealing a ledge that was perhaps ten feet long and six feet deep. It wasn't much, but it was something.

She lifted her head and glanced up. Smoke's face was peeking over the trail edge, his eyes riveted to her.

How far had she fallen?

A dozen feet? Two dozen?

It was close enough that she could hear Smoke's whimper.

"I'm okay." At least, she hoped she was. She didn't think she had any broken bones or cuts. Even if she didn't, she'd likely have a few big bruises.

She searched the ledge and then the granite cliffside. It was straight up and down except for the slight slope where she'd first fallen off the path.

Was she stuck?

A sick weight settled in her chest.

There was nothing she could do at the moment. Not with how icy it was.

She would have to wait until it warmed up and then do her best to figure out a way to rescue herself. Because she'd learned she couldn't rely on anyone but herself. If she didn't save herself, not only would Nelly surely die, but so would she.