“She doesn’t speak,” I said slowly, looking back at Tim. “But even if she could, I’m quite sure she’d ask why I should help a bunch of strangers like yourselves.”

Tim leaned against the doorframe casually, pausing briefly to examine the broken pieces of wood. “What happened here? Someone try and break down your door?”

No one said anything. We waited for him to continue.

He did with a tepid sigh. “I’m sure you’re all familiar—more than most folk—with what happened in them mountains over there.” He jerked his head in the direction of the Sierra Nevadas that rose up from the valley. “About them poor Donners.”

“They disappeared,” I said. “A few years ago. Got stuck in the snows.”

“Four years, to be exact,” Tim said. “Then I’m sure you know that one of the search parties that went after them never reported to Sacramento.”

I shook my head. “No, I didn’t know that.”

“Isaac over there,” Tim gestured to the skinny man behind him, the one who had originally told the group to fan out. “His uncle was in the Donner party. And his nephew was part of the search party that went after him. What Isaac wants is to find his uncle and nephew. See, it was last August that his nephew, George Clark, and his search party should have reported into Sacramento. They were supposed to go up the same route as the Donners and find out what really happened, and then report to Sacramento with news. You see, while most of the party had been rescued from the other side of the pass, George didn’t quite believe the tale was so simple. He thought there was more to the story, perhaps more survivors than reported, perhaps his family. But the thing is, George Clark and his team never showed up. It’s been a year now. Just over. No one has seen or heard of them. There were records that the party passed through here last June, but no one has seen them come out the other side. It don’t matter if you’re asking in Oregon City or Fresno, no one has plumb seen ’em.”

“When you say, find out what really happened to the Donner party,” Avery spoke up, “what do you mean? From what we heard, they came across hard times, hard weather. Lost a lot of men, women, and children. Nothing too unusual about that.”

“Well, let’s just say then that George Clark still believed his father to be alive in the mountains there. There were also some, well, let’s call them rumors, that George refused to believe.”

Rumors? I raised my brow but Tim carried on. “Regardless of what happened to the Donners, it’s George’s party we’re concerned about.”

“It’s been a year,” Avery pointed out. “How can you be sure they’re still alive out there?” He gave Isaac an apologetic glance. “Sorry for being so crass, but you must agree.”

Isaac shifted on top of his grey mount. “I have reason to believe he—they—might have found a way to stay alive.” Whatever he believed, however, Isaac sounded awfully grim. His face was both long and pinched, like his cheeks stuck out more than his nose. “Of course, we aren’t from these parts, Ms. Smith, and neither was George. That might have been one of the reasons why they were unable to locate what they were looking for. It could be why they never made it across the pass. I put together this expedition here in hopes of finding George, or at least some answers. Now, I think we have a shot at doing this on our own. But we’re all from Texas and Tennessee and Missouri. We don’t know your land, your terrain. If we had a tracker such as yourself, as well as a few locals such as Avery, we stand a much better chance.”

“Naturally,” Tim said, adjusting the holster around his waist, “we don’t assume you’ll be doing this out of the kindness of your pretty heart. There’s a lot of money in it for you and anyone else who wishes to help out.”

“How much money?” Avery asked. I looked at him, surprised by the sudden eagerness in his voice.

Tim let out a soft laugh. “So, we be speaking your language now, boy? Well, I reckon the lady here would get one hundred dollars, plus a safe route back. You and anyone else who wishes to join us would get fifty. Perhaps seventy five, if you can provide us with an extra horse or mule. We’re needing a pack animal.”

I couldn’t breathe. A hundred dollars. I’d never heard of anyone in these parts having that much. I was sure the only thing that was worth more than that was Uncle Pat’s ranch.

We were all shocked, the silence coating us. I could almost hear the wheels turning in Aunt June and Rose’s heads, coming up with all the stuff they could buy. New wristwatch, new dresses, a new carriage, new breeding stock. I also knew that the money would never truly be mine, so long as I was under this roof.

Somehow, Avery lifted his jaw off the floor and cleared his throat. “You understand that this will have to be discussed with Mr. Smith when he gets back. He is legally in charge of Eve, and I am his employee here at the ranch.”

“I understand,” Tim said, “though I reckon you’d never make so much money even if you worked here for the rest of your life. We’ll give you all time to think about it. But not too much time. We want to get up in them mountains before the first snow falls. We’ll be back tonight.” He dipped his hat to me and the women in the house. “Ma’am. Ladies.”

He turned to leave, striding over to his horse. I stayed at the door, watching them until I saw Mr. Snarl pass by. He glanced at me under his hat and I was struck by how dark his eyes were and their intensity as they looked me over. I realized the whole time we’d been talking with Tim, I’d been waiting for him to say something, to make his presence known. Instead, he and the scar-faced man had stayed silent. I felt like they would have been the enforcers if things had gotten out of hand.

Avery gently pushed me out of the way as he closed the door, making sure to lock it behind him.

For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, I felt like the only thing standing between me and danger was a wooden door.

The four of us were so tense and anxious that evening, waiting around for Uncle Pat to come back, that we were jumping at every little sound, and barely picked at the mutton stew Aunt June had made. My mother had retired to her room after I gave her another book to read (a nice thing about Rose was that she’d often bring home books from school—I was never sure if it was her own doing or if her mother made her, but the books still came, giving my mother something to do with herself).

We didn’t talk about what had happened. Instead, everyone kept silent, perhaps locked in dreams about a better life. It wasn’t that the Smith’s homestead was lacking in anything—I do believe Uncle Pat was one of the wealthiest in town—but nothing ever came easy for any of the early pioneers. Supplies took forever to come in from the east, and the lack of real civilization in this territory only contributed to the isolation. Naturally, I was born in the small settlement, so I never knew any better and frankly was never curious about the big cities, but I could see Rose’s eyes wet with thought as she imagined spending the money on a stagecoach ticket back to St. Louis.

As for Avery, I wanted to ask him what he’d spend his money on, but I was afraid of two things. If I asked him, it would sound like I wanted him to go, which was the furthest thing from the truth, and I feared that he’d tell me it had something to do with Rose. A ring? Two stagecoach tickets out of here? Anything to buy a future.

I watched him carefully as he put on the fire, seeming to be taller now, stronger somehow. It felt like he’d grown up in the last few hours, standing up to those mysterious Texans and everything.

Thankfully, the house felt more full and relaxed with the sounds of the flames crackling and cooling our nerves. We were right peaceful when the front door jangled before being kicked open.