.

with the territory, Sophie got directions and agreed to come. She didn’t know quite how she felt about church. Ever since Charlie’s death, she’d had a tenuous relationship with God, but perhaps He had sent these kind people to her. Regardless of where they came from or why, they were a gift. As was Beauty, who lay beside her providing warmth and companionship.

      * * *

      It was a cool spring Sunday as she rode to church, and Sophie reveled in the scenery. Back in Kansas, she had continued attending services with her family in the hope that one day she would understand God’s purpose in taking Charlie from her. She continued to go through the motions of worship and daily Bible reading, but with no real expectation of receiving answers. So far, none had come, nor were they likely to come here. Yet her deeply ingrained faith made it impossible to turn her back on God.

      It had been a joy to awaken this morning in a home with a solid roof and walls and with personalized touches all around her. Her eyes had been immediately drawn to Lily’s sampler, embroidered with flowers encircling the message from Proverbs.

      Trust in the Lord with all thine heart;

      and lean not unto thine own understanding.

      In all thy ways acknowledge Him,

      and He shall direct thy paths.

      Sophie appreciated the advice, yet it was difficult to follow, given the loss of Charlie and her own rebellious, questioning streak.

      As much as she missed her brothers, she missed Lily and Rose more. Her sisters-in-law related to the pain of her loss in ways neither Caleb nor Seth could. Sophie suspected Lily had intended the sampler message as a daily reminder to her.

      Riding beside the water that flowed along the valley floor, she noticed an impressive home set halfway up a hill across the river and enclosed by at least a mile of rail fence. Small spruce trees lined the road leading to the house. The few other dwellings she passed on her way to the Tylers’ were less impressive and often seemed to be the result of add-ons to an original cabin. A few appeared to serve as primitive lodging for summer visitors. The Tyler and Harper homes were situated along the river and, with their outbuildings, composed the nearest thing to a settlement in the area. A crude wooden sign at the Harpers’ read General Store and Post Office. About a quarter of a mile beyond was a large two-story home with a porch on three sides. From the horses and wagons gathered in the yard, she assumed she’d arrived at the site of the service.

      Inside, she was effusively greeted by Martha, who ushered her to a bench. “Reverend Justus is about ready to begin.”

      Sophie settled back, studying the congregation. In addition to the Tylers and Harpers, there seemed to be three or four other families. Small children sat on the floor or on their parents’ laps, and the room was warm with crowded bodies. Several eyed her curiously, but the minister began speaking before she could introduce herself. Rather more didactic and long-winded than she would’ve liked, the rangy preacher had a weathered face and deep voice. He declaimed for nearly an hour on Moses and the Ten Commandments. Sandwiched between two amply built women, Sophie was pinned in her spot. Finally the crowd stood and sang lustily, no doubt as relieved as she with being delivered from the sermon. A meal followed where she was introduced to other area residents.

      Belle took her aside and, despite the cool temperature, the two settled on the front porch with their plates. “Isn’t this better than being jammed into that stuffy place?”

      “We can always go in if we get cold.” Sophie took a bite of the cabbage and ham someone had provided. “This is a nice reward,” she said, licking her fingers.

      “You mean for listening to Reverend Justus drone on?” Belle studied her, as if assessing whether her remark had shocked Sophie.

      Sophie giggled. “He was rather full of himself, wasn’t he?”

      Belle grinned in response. “Whoever heard of A-ron? I nearly laughed aloud every time he came to the name Aaron.”

      “It’s a relief to know that with you, I can occasionally be irreverent—in the nicest sense, of course.”

      “I was certain I’d like you the minute I set eyes on you.” Belle pointed at Sophie with her fork. “Here’s my question. I know we still have the chance of a late snow or two, but how soon will you be ready to go hiking?”

      Sophie shivered, not from the cold, but from delight. “Whenever you say.”

      “If we begin with easy treks, the weather shouldn’t be a problem. We can’t start too soon to get ourselves ready for the big one.”

      “Longs Peak,” Sophie said, awed by the mere idea of standing on the summit.

      “Longs Peak,” Belle echoed, holding out her hand to seal the deal.

      After making her farewells, Sophie set out for home under a sunny sky. As Ranger trotted along, she counted her blessings. Joe Harper had assured her his store could provide her with milk and eggs, as well as other food and goods.

      Lost in plans for the coming days, Sophie failed to see the two boys until she was right beside them. They stood on a wooden bridge throwing rocks into the icy, rushing river. One was thin and dark-haired, while the younger one was rosy-cheeked and chubbier. She deliberated whether she should stop. What if either of them slipped? She drew to a halt and dismounted. Yelling over the noise of the water, she approached them. “Are you two all right?”

      The older one shrugged with indifference and threw another rock. The younger one turned toward her eagerly. “We’re seeing which of us can throw the farthest. Who are you?”

      “I’m Sophie Montgomery. I just moved here from Kansas.”

      “Where’s Kansas?” the talkative one asked.

      “The next state east, dummy,” his brother said.

      “Perhaps you’ll study Kansas in your geography lesson,” Sophie suggested.

      “Lessons? We don’t have lessons, except when Papa helps us,” the older one said with a frown. “And that’s not often enough for me.”

      “Who is your papa?”

      The little one gestured toward the handsome house on the hill. “Tate Lockwood,” he said. “I’m Toby.”

      Sophie extended her hand. “Glad to meet you, sir.” She faced the other boy. “And you?”

      “Marcus,” he said, turning away to study the distant mountains.

      “I know your father. He escorted me here from Denver.”

      Toby looked at her with interest. “Where do you live?”

      “A mile or so beyond here in an old cabin.”

      “Can I come visit?” Toby asked. His brother rolled his eyes.

      “Certainly. In fact, I’d enjoy it if you both came. I have a new dog I’d like for you to meet.”

      “I’ll ask Papa.” Toby wriggled with delight.

      “He won’t let us,” Marcus said.

      “Why ever not?” Did Tate keep these boys under lock and key?

      “He’s too busy to bring us.”

      Sophie pondered her next move. Her invitation had been rashly extended. On second thought, she had no business insinuating herself into the lives of Tate Lockwood’s sons. Yet each in his own way seemed starved for attention. Tate might be more amenable if she visited the boys’ home. “Tell you what. If it’s nice weather on Wednesday, why don’t I bring Beauty and come see you. Be sure to tell your father. If it’s inconvenient, maybe he could get word to me.”

      “He won’t care,” Marcus said in a tone that broke Sophie’s heart. “He’ll probably be glad to get us out of the way so he can work.”

      So that’s the way it is. Sophie laid a hand on Marcus’s shoulder.