Chapter 1 The frost on the window glass had not yet begun to thaw when Elias Stone heard the wheels. It was a sound that did not belong on this mountain. Not at this hour. Not ever. For fifteen years, the only wheels that came up the Utah trail had belonged to his own wagon,…
Chapter 1 The rain had been falling for three hours when I heard the knock. I had spent six winters learning not to hope for visitors, learning that the wind played tricks on lonely men, learning that no one came to Stillwater Crossing after dark unless they were running from something worse than the storm….
Chapter 1 The cold was the first thing that demanded her attention, and the last thing that would ever let go. Margaret Howe stood at the edge of the Wyoming Territory with her carpet bag in one hand and the ghost of her dead husband in the other, watching the wagon disappear around a bend…
Chapter 1 The organ thundered through St. Margaret’s Church like a rising tide, and I walked toward it knowing I was drowning. White lilies trembled in my gloved hands, their sweet perfume mixing with the heavy scent of incense and candle wax that had been burned in this sanctuary for centuries. Every face in the…
Chapter 1 The champagne had made her bold, but it was not the champagne that made her do it. It was the weight of three seasons of polite smiles and careful words, of dancing with men who spoke to her chest rather than her eyes, of watching her younger friends marry one by one while…
Chapter 1 The champagne had made her bold, but it was not the champagne that made her do it. It was the weight of three seasons of polite smiles and careful words, of dancing with men who spoke to her chest rather than her eyes, of watching her younger friends marry one by one while…
Chapter 1 The wool of his coat was rough against her cheek. Rain clung to it, and beneath the damp, something warmer — cedar and tobacco and the faint starch of a valet’s care. Beneath her palms, she felt the man go rigid, a full-body flinch that traveled through his shoulders and down his spine…
Chapter 1 The wool of his coat was rough against her cheek. Rain clung to it, and beneath the damp, something warmer — cedar and tobacco and the faint starch of a valet’s care. Beneath her palms, she felt the man go rigid, a full-body flinch that traveled through his shoulders and down his spine…
Chapter 1 The stone did not scream before it fell. It whispered. Viven Ashkam heard it from the window — a low, grinding sigh, like a sleeper turning in an old bed. She had been standing at the west window for reasons she could not later explain, watching the sky press down on the chimneys…
Chapter 1 The stone did not scream before it fell. It whispered. Viven Ashkam heard it from the window — a low, grinding sigh, like a sleeper turning in an old bed. She had been standing at the west window for reasons she could not later explain, watching the sky press down on the chimneys…
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