“Hanna?” He blinked, as if trying to clear his head. “Oh, hell.”
“So the baby’s yours?”
“I guess so. She was a virgin and the timing’s about right. Now what do I do?”
Amelia reined back the impulse to slap his face. “Get dressed and pack your bags while I get you some cash out of the safe. Ralph can drive you to the train station in Miles City. You’re getting out of here on the next train—whenever it comes and wherever it goes. And you’re not to come back until you’re suitably married and ready to do a man’s work on this ranch.”
He stared at her.
“You heard me!” she snapped. “Get moving.”
“But it’s snowing. And it’s supposed to get worse.”
“That’s your problem. Ralph can spend the night at the hotel and come home in the morning. But you’ll be in the station house, waiting for the next train.”
Mason raked a curl back from his face. “You raised me to run this ranch. What am I supposed to do somewhere else?”
Amelia glared at him, wondering how she could have brought up such a spoiled, entitled man-child. She was probably doing that wretched girl a favor. With Mason gone, she could marry some buck-toothed dirt farmer who’d at least be a faithful husband.
“Do what most people do,” she said. “Figure it out.”
* * *
Snow was swirling out of the black night sky. Wet flakes spattered the road and coated the backs of the plodding horses. Hanna’s quilt was already damp. She shivered beneath it, aware that complaining would be a waste of breath. Hunched over the reins, her father hadn’t spoken a word to her. But there was no need for him to tell her what had happened at the ranch house. She had heard everything.
Not that she’d ever wanted Mason to marry her. She could imagine the kind of husband he would be, not to mention his harridan of a mother. But to Lars, this was a matter of honor. His daughter had smeared the family’s reputation. Only marriage could wipe away the stain.
Earlier, another vehicle had come up behind them on the road—a black buggy with its top up, the two-horse team moving fast to get ahead of the lumbering farm wagon. Lars had given way, and the driver had sped past without a wave or a word of thanks. Watching the buggy disappear into the storm, Hanna had wondered where its passengers might be going in such a rush. But then the snowfall had thickened, the wind had sprung up, and all she could think about was how cold she was and how far from home they must be.
Lars must be cold, too, although he would never complain, let alone admit that setting out with a storm coming had been a mistake. Even the poor horses must be suffering, with their breath forming clouds and moisture freezing on their coats.
Hanna had lost track of how far they’d come, but since they hadn’t yet passed through Blue Moon, they must have a long way to go. Maybe they could stop in town and find shelter somewhere. But at this hour, especially in this weather, all the businesses would be closed.
She’d heard of people freezing to death on the road in storms like this. It could happen to her and her father tonight—and if she were to die, her baby would die, too.
The awareness struck her like a shaft of light. She wrapped her arms around her body, as if to warm the tiny life inside her. Until now she’d thought of her condition in terms of the disgrace, the sickness, the uncertainty. But she’d been thinking only of herself. This was about a precious child, innocent of its parents’ sin. This was her baby to nurture, protect, and love.
Tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. She was brushing them away with the back of her hand when she caught sight of something through the swirling snow. It was a speck of light, moving, coming closer.
The light became a man on horseback with a lantern. As he came within sight of the wagon, the rider spurred the horse to a trot.
“Thank God!” The voice was Alvar’s.
Wearing a black slicker, he reined in alongside the wagon, keeping pace with its crawling progress.
“When Mama told me you went out with a storm coming, I got worried,” he said. “I knew I needed to find you.”
“Well, now that you’ve found us, you can take Hanna home on your horse. I’ll drive the rest of the way by myself.” The cold and strain had taken its toll on Lars’s voice.
“You’d never make it, Papa,” Alvar said. “You’re not even halfway to Blue Moon, and everything’s closed up there. I’m not even sure that Hanna and I could make it home on the horse. But I’ve got another plan. The turnoff to the Dollarhide Ranch is just a quarter mile down the road. They’re good people, and they know me. They’ll take us in for the night.”
Hanna half expected her father to argue. But all he said was, “Lead the way.”
They found the snow-coated wagon road that led across the pastures and followed it past the closed lumber mill to the foot of the hill, where it climbed in a series of switchbacks to the Dollarhide house. Lars studied the steep ascent through the falling snow, frowning. “I can make it with the team, but we’ll have to take it slow, especially around those turns.”
“Let me take Hanna up on the mare and leave her at the house,” Alvar said. “Then I’ll come back down to guide you.”
Chilled and exhausted, Hanna left the quilt on the wagon and let Alvar pull her up behind him with the back of the slicker covering her like a tent. She wrapped her arms around him and held on tight as the sure-footed mare made its way up the road.
“Mama tells me I’m to be an uncle,” Alvar said. “I’m prepared to be a good one.” He paused, giving her a chance to reply. When she didn’t speak, he continued. “I take it the bastard refused to marry you.”
Hanna found her voice. “His mother did the refusing for him. She was awful. I’d rather raise my baby alone than be part of that family. But poor Papa. I’ve disgraced our family and it’s killing him.”
“Give him time. He’ll come around.”
“Won’t Mama be worried if we don’t come home?”
“I told her we might have to find shelter someplace. She’ll understand.”
They rounded the last turn and came up on the level of the house. Reflected light on snow revealed a rambling structure of logs with a broad, covered front porch and outbuildings behind. It was a grand place, almost frighteningly so. This was where Alvar had spent time after he’d injured his leg. This was where Blake Dollarhide lived.
What would Blake say when he heard about his brother’s baby?
Suddenly the last thing Hanna wanted to do was step inside that big house and face him.
Alvar stopped the horse below the porch, helped her dismount, and led her up to the massive front door. The house was dark. Everyone inside would be asleep. How would they react to being awakened in the middle of the night?
She held her breath as Alvar raised the heavy brass knocker.
* * *
The rap on the door echoed through the silent house. Blake, who was having a restless night, sat up at once and swung his feet to the floor. Flinging on a warm flannel robe, he reached for the pistol he kept near his bed. He didn’t know who might be at the door, but nothing good happened at this hour of the night.
The house was chilly, the coals barely glowing in the big stone fireplace. As he made his way through the shadows to the door, he could see snow falling beyond the front windows. Whoever was outside couldn’t have had an easy time getting here.