The wagon rumbled along the rutted, icy road leading away from the ranch, the two horses working in tandem as Spencer held the reins. He kept a steady pace, doing his best to avoid getting stuck in the frequent potholes.
As the ranch disappeared behind him, his thoughts turned to the wolf encounter earlier in the morning. It troubled him how the wolves were getting bolder, venturing so close to the herd in broad daylight. If they were already getting desperate for food, how would they be by the end of January? He’d have to keep an eye out for any signs of the predators while out on the range.
A few miles later, the outskirts of Splendor came into view. He guided the wagon past the schoolhouse, jail, and telegraph office, waving in greeting to the occasional local walking the boardwalk. Approaching the general store, he stopped the wagon, eager to get the supplies and return to the ranch.
The general store bustled with activity when he stepped down from the wagon. Securing the horses, he pulled the supply list from a pocket and pushed through the doors. Stan looked up from behind the counter.
“Ah, Spencer. Here for the usual ranch order?”
He nodded, stepping forward. “Yes, sir, and anything you can spare ammunition-wise. We’ve got some aggressive wolves lurking about.”
The shop owner’s face grew serious as he listened to Spencer describe the wolf threat. “I’ll make sure you get what you need. Can’t be too careful with those beasts roaming so near.”
Spencer spent some time going through the order with Stan before heading outside. He walked a few doors down to the barber shop, waiting a few minutes until the owner finished with a man Spencer recognized from the bank.
When he was ushered into a chair, his thoughts strayed back to the ranch. Other than working ten or more hours a day, he led a solitary life. He ate, worked, and read whatever he could get his hands on, rarely riding into town with other ranch hands when Saturday night came around. It was a life he’d grown accustomed to, the same as several others at Redemption’s Edge.
Paying for the trim, he walked back to the general store, checked off each item on the list, and paid Stan.
After loading the supplies, he stilled as the sound of the approaching stagecoach caught his attention. Glancing down the street, he spotted it approaching the combination telegraph, post office, and stage office.
The coach slowed to a stop in front of the station. The door swung open, and a lone woman stepped out. Spencer was struck by the woman’s bearing. Head high, her back rigid, she wore a stylish blue traveling dress. Her neatly pinned hair marked her as someone not accustomed to the rugged frontier.
The woman’s voice rang out sharply as she berated the station manager for the delay in her journey. He watched in fascination as she gestured emphatically, leaving poor Bernie Griggs cowed. Though petite, her presence dominated her surroundings.
With a dismissive wave of her hand, the woman strode into the station house, Bernie scrambling to grab her bags. Spencerfound himself wondering what would bring such a refined lady all the way out to remote Splendor.
Tearing his gaze away, he walked around the wagon. He secured the last of the supplies in the back of the wagon, making sure everything was properly protected from the elements. Though his mind kept drifting back to the unusual visitor, he focused on the task at hand. There would be time for speculation later.
Climbing up onto the driver’s bench, Spencer gathered the reins. The horses shifted impatiently, ready to be off. With a slap of the reins, he urged them forward into an easy walk. The wagon wheels creaked and groaned as they turned.
Casting one last look back at the station, he felt his curiosity stir again. What was the woman’s story? Shaking his head, he turned his gaze to the road ahead, a wry grin tipping up the corners of his mouth. The visitor added a bit of mystery to a routine journey to town.
As Splendor receded behind him, Spencer occupied his mind contemplating the lone woman’s presence. Perhaps she was visiting family for the holidays. Or perhaps she was an adventurous soul exploring the frontier.
With a flick of the reins, he picked up his pace, the horses responding eagerly. Their rhythmic hoofbeats marked the miles back to the ranch.
Guiding the wagon away from Splendor, he studied the sky ahead. He studied the horizon, noting the dark clouds gathering. He decided the time had come to pick up the pace before the weather turned.
An icy wind struck him in the face as the horses trotted briskly along. In the distance, he spotted something moving through the tall grass just off the road. Drawing the wagon to a halt, Spencer squinted against the fading light.
There, loping along, was a lone gray wolf. It stopped and turned to stare at Spencer with unsettling yellow eyes. He tensed, hand drifting toward his rifle as he met the wolf’s challenging gaze. A long moment passed as man and beast sized one another up.
While he continued to watch the wolf, an ear-splitting crack of thunder sounded. The wolf broke eye contact first, turning and disappearing into the swaying grass. Spencer let out a breath.
With a slap of the reins, he got the wagon moving again. He needed to tell the others. The ranch would have to be on high alert until the brazen predators were driven off for good. As the snow began to fall, Spencer hunched his shoulders against the freezing wind.
Chapter Two
Doctor Eliza Gladstone stared out the large front window of the Eagle’s Nest restaurant, watching the blizzard rage outside. Snowflakes swirled wildly in the gusting wind, reducing visibility to mere feet. Sighing, Eliza sipped her coffee, the hot liquid providing scant comfort against the icy chill seeping through the glass.
This infernal storm had stranded her here in the remote town of Splendor for two days. Each morning, she rose hopeful the snows had abated, only to find the skies still leaden with foreboding clouds.
As she picked at her breakfast, Eliza contemplated her predicament. She’d planned to pass straight through Splendor on her journey west to San Francisco. Now, it seemed she might be trapped here. The delay irked her, but the isolation troubled her more. Back east, in bustling New York, she’d always been surrounded by people. On the frontier, the empty vastness often overwhelmed her.
What was she to do in this tiny town until the stagecoach resumed service? She had no friends here, no family. The locals seemed pleasant enough in their rustic way, but they were simple folk, uneducated. They reminded her of characters from the dime novels she secretly enjoyed reading.
Eliza sighed again. The beauty of Splendor was losing its luster. She longed for someone to talk to, someone who couldunderstand her sophisticated East Coast sensibilities. Sighing, she knew the chances were as remote as the prospect of escaping this snowbound purgatory.
