An older man in the group offered a prayer to end the service. As the dirt clods thudded on the lid of the coffin, Blake laid an arm around his wife and son and led them away. Joe and Sarah followed him. That was when they saw the shiny, black buggy drawn by matched bays, pulling up to the grave site.
On the front seat sat Benteen Calder, his wife, and Webb.
Webb climbed down from the buggy and helped his parents to the ground. With his wife on his arm, Benteen, looking even more frail than Blake remembered, walked toward Blake and Joe.
“I hope we’re not too late to pay our respects,” he said.
“It’s never too late,” Joe said. “It was good of your family to come, Benteen.”
“We heard about the fire and the death of this young man,” Benteen said. “But that’s only part of the reason we’ve come. Between that and the hanging at the crossroads, we’ve come to agree with what you said to us, Blake. The situation is spinning out of control, and it’s going to affect all of us. We need to stop the raids and reprisals before the whole county becomes a war zone.”
Blake’s pulse quickened. “So what are you proposing, sir?”
“I’m already talking to the other ranchers. We’re prepared to send out a band of cowboys to either catch the raiders and put them in jail or chase them out of the county—and to make regular night patrols until things settle down. We’re hoping you’ll join us.”
“Certainly. But the homesteaders—will they be left alone?” Blake asked.
Benteen nodded. “We figure those folks will have enough challenges without having to worry about being burned out or shot. As long as they keep the peace, they’ll be left alone.” Benteen coughed, turned his head away, and spat in the dust. “The first thing that has to happen is to make sure neither you or Mr. Anderson will retaliate for the damage that’s been done.”
“I’ll talk to him. But we’ll need to involve Franz Kreuger and the other leaders of the vigilante group.”
“I understand,” Benteen said. “Do whatever you have to. This valley needs to be a safe place for our families, our livestock, and our crops, and that’s going to take all of us working together.”
Blake exhaled in relief as Benteen shook his hand and Joe’s, then walked with his wife toward Alvar’s family. The struggle wasn’t over. There was a lot to be done, and it might take time. But at last there was hope.
* * *
Far to the south, a train steamed its way across the vast midwestern prairie, the steady click-clack of wheels on the tracks whispering in Kristin’s ears. Alvar . . . Alvar . . .
Alone in her compartment she gazed out the window at the endless sea of grass and wiped away tears. The world was waiting for her at the end of the tracks, but she could only think of what she’d left behind, the love she’d felt, and the words he’d spoken to her before the smoke reached them.
As long as we are under the same stars, I’ll be with you. What you see, you’ll be seeing for me. And what you do . . .
She closed her eyes and tucked him into her heart.
EPILOGUE
Eleven months later
ANOTHER SPRING HAD COME AFTER A LONG, HARD WINTER. THE pastures were greening. The wheat fields, those that remained, had been plowed and planted and would soon be thrusting emerald shoots above the soil. The ducks and geese that had flown south in the fall were returning to the wetlands to raise their young.
The air smelled of fresh earth and new life.
Blake stood at the porch rail at the end of the day, watching the sun set in a fiery ball, leaving ribbons of purple across the indigo sky. He’d spent most of the long day at the lumber mill, which he’d modernized after the fire, adding a new band saw that could cut bigger logs with more precision, as well as electric lights and power. Orders were coming in from Miles City and the new settlements springing up around it. With business booming, he’d hired more young men from the homesteads. With the raiders gone and the land at peace for now, they were eager for the work. Even Lars, a skilled carpenter who was getting more jobs in Blue Moon, had helped with the rebuilding. And Garrity, his leg healed, had been there to keep an eye on everything.
The harsh winter had driven more families to leave. Doyle Petit, who’d emerged from the debacle of the raids with no proof of any wrongdoing, was still buying up their properties. But thanks to the Calders, the harassment of the settlers had abated.
Gazing down the road through the twilight, Blake was relieved to see the buggy coming around the last bend in the road. Hanna had spent the day visiting her mother with Little Joe, an active toddler now, running everywhere and starting to talk.
Leaving her driver to put the team away, she climbed out of the buggy and released her son at the top of the steps. The little dark-haired boy raced across the porch toward Blake. “Dada!” he shouted. The word tugged at Blake’s heart as he swept his son up. Little Joe was all Dollarhide, the image of his grandfather. Only his green eyes betrayed the missing part of his lineage.
Hanna laughed as she crossed the porch. “This little rascal wore me out today. Give me a few minutes to put him to bed. Then I’ll come out and join you. It would be a shame to waste such a lovely evening.”
She took the squirming boy in her arms and vanished into the house. Sarah and Joe had taken the train south to visit family and spend time with Kristin, who was at the top of her class in school. Except for Shep, who wasn’t up to babysitting, Blake and Hanna had the house to themselves. They were enjoying the privacy but missed the extra help with their active little son.
A few minutes later she was back, stretching on tiptoe to kiss him. “How was the visit to your family?” he asked.
“Good. Mama always enjoys Little Joe. And we planted some flower seeds on Alvar’s grave. Britta says she’s going to be a teacher, and that she might not ever get married.”
Blake chuckled. “That sounds like Britta. She’ll do whatever she wants. How’s their new house coming along?”
“The framing’s done. But Papa’s been busy with the wheat and his carpentry jobs. He’s promised to have it finished by fall. Mama swears she won’t spend another winter in the shack, listening to the wolves howl outside.”
“When he’s ready, I’ll send somebody to help him.” Blake slipped an arm behind her waist, pulling her to his side. “I went to town today—ran into Amelia in the bank. We talked, but only in passing. Now that Ralph’s gone, she’s managing the ranch by herself. Doing fine with it, I guess. But she’s starting to show her age.”
“That’s probably just her meanness coming out,” Hanna said. “I’m surprised she hasn’t brought Mason back to take over.”
They rarely mentioned Blake’s half brother. The subject was still painful. But it was no secret that Joe still missed his other son. “Maybe he doesn’t want to come back,” Blake said.
“Do you think he ever will? After all, he’s heir to that ranch.”
Blake shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Let him come. You and Little Joe are mine. Nothing’s going to change that—ever.”
“Oh, but something’s going to change.” She gave him a mysterious smile. “We could use another boy in the family, don’t you think? Or maybe even a little girl.”