When the sleigh was ready to go, Joe went back into the house for a last-minute cup of hot coffee. Sarah was waiting in the kitchen. She handed him the steaming mug. “You don’t need to do this,” she said. “We don’t need more land.”
He gulped the coffee, feeling the heat travel down through his body. “Neither does Benteen. But if I can get to the bank and buy that parcel ahead of him, it’ll leave him with a black eye—and we’ll own one of the sweetest little ranches in the county.”
“Or maybe we won’t. Maybe you’ll be wasting your time. Just be careful. That’s all I ask.” She took the empty cup, set it on the counter, and waited for his kiss.
He gathered her in his arms. Because he knew Sarah was worried, he allowed extra time to make the kiss long and deep. He loved the feel of her, the taste of her, and the fire she ignited in his body. They had married six years ago, after a proper courtship. Over time, they’d become true soul mates. To their disappointment, they’d had no more children. But Blake, who was bright, strong, and compassionate, was a joy every day of Joe’s life. And Mason would always be part of his family.
Sarah had taught school for just one year before her marriage. But she was still in demand as a midwife, nurse, and tutor. Joe understood her need to be of use. It was one of the reasons he loved her so much.
When he went outside again, the big yellow dog, gray-muzzled now, was waiting on the porch, probably hoping for a ride.
Joe scratched the shaggy head. “Not this time, old boy,” he said. “It’s too cold for you, and I’ve got some serious business in town.”
He pulled on his thick gloves, gave the sleigh a shake to free the iced runners, and climbed onto the seat. After pulling a warm buffalo robe over his lap, he took the reins. The horses strained against their collars and the sleigh began to move. Glancing back, he saw Sarah and Blake on the porch with the dog. Joe gave them a wave before the sleigh carried him from their sight.
The year he’d married Sarah, Joe had hired a crew to widen and grade the road up the hill to his house. The job had been expensive but well worth the price in terms of ease and safety. Even so, with the wind blowing the snow into drifts across the road, the way down was treacherous. He took a long breath of relief when the team and sleigh finally reached level ground. From here it would be a matter of pushing through snow along the road, all the way to Miles City.
Joe’s errand, and the race to beat Benteen Calder, had been triggered by a tragedy. This past Thursday evening, Blaise Ransom, Joe’s former boss and as fine a man as Joe had ever known, had been thrown from his horse and killed instantly when his head struck the rocky ground. He’d left behind a widow and two teenaged sons.
Joe had attended the funeral service on Sunday. Sarah had been needed elsewhere, so he’d gone alone. After the burial, he’d approached Blaise’s widow, Florence, to offer his condolences. “I always thought the world of Blaise,” he’d told her. “If you and the boys ever need anything—anything at all—don’t hesitate to ask for my help.”
Florence, as Joe remembered, had been dry-eyed; but her plain, thin face had been etched with strain. She had always been strong, but the loss of her husband had pushed her to the limit.
“Thank you, Joe, but we won’t be staying,” she’d told him. “I’m not spending another Montana winter here without Blaise. I have a sister in Ohio. I can move there, have good neighbors, and get enough money from the ranch to buy a house and send the boys to college.”
“You’re selling the ranch? How much are you asking? I’ll buy it from you.”
“It’s not that simple,” she’d told him. “On Friday, when we took Blaise’s body to the undertaker in Miles City, I went to the bank, signed a quit claim deed to the ranch, agreed on the minimum price I’d accept, and left the paperwork with the land office. I didn’t know how long it might take to find a buyer, and with winter on the way, I didn’t want to be stuck here, waiting for a sale.”