CHAPTER 1
December, 1868
Virginia City, Montana Territory
An icy wind whipped against Two Stones’s cheeks as he strode along the row of shanties, aiming toward the one second from the end. Callum Morgan lived there, and if the man's plans had played out the way he hoped, his daughter would have joined him here in Virginia City by now.
Two Stones gripped the leather pouch tighter. She must be a young woman, for Callum himself showed only a few gray hairs. Yet the man had said his daughter had suffered a loss, which was why she'd come to live with her father in this wild village of miners.
And also why he'd asked Two Stones to find such a delicate gift.
There weren't trading posts in these mountains that stocked blue sapphire pendants hanging on gold chains. He'd found the chain in Missoula Mills and a ruby brooch in Helena, so he'd had to go to the Coulter ranch for the right stone.
Sampson and Jude Coulter had worked together to cut and polish one of the sapphires from their mine, then fit it in the brooch in place of the ruby. Sampson had sawdered another gold loop on the brooch so it hung properly from the chain. The price wouldn't be cheap for Callum, but he'd said he would gladly pay anything Two Stones required.
This gift must be important to him.
He eyed the narrow shanty that was Callum's. One board had popped loose at the end, leaving a wide gap where heat must be pouring out and the winter wind blowing in. The plank must have just come loose, for Callum would not have left it undone for long. Especially if his daughter had come as expected.
Maybe Callum would finally take Two Stones up on his offer to help build a house outside the town, away from these rundown huts that stretched in a long mismatched row of loose boards. Each shanty shared walls with the structure on either side or behind, which allowed heat from their warming fires to spread through the cracks from one dwelling to the next.
The stench flowed freely between them too. And the noise.
Beyond the foul buildings in front of him rose the grandeur of the stony mountains that loomed in the distance, their snow-capped peaks reaching heavenward. This picture of two places so different felt like his own life—split between the serene village where his Salish family resided and the raucous, unpredictable world of the miners he traded for.
Neither was a home to him, never had been. The closest thing he had to a home was the trail between the worlds, and riding through these soaring mountains was where he spent most of his time.
He moved to the door and reached for the latch string, but then paused. Callum was one of the few white men he knew well enough that he could enter without knocking, as was normalamong his people. But if the man’s daughter had come, Two Stones should follow the white man's customs.
He lifted his hand and rapped on the wooden door. The flimsy barrier rattled. Perhaps he should have used a lighter touch.
A moment later, the latch shifted, then the door pulled open to reveal the shadows inside. A woman stood there, her skin much lighter than Callum's. The shadows darkened her wide eyes as she stared at him.
She didn't scream, though, as some white women did when they first saw him. Maybe Callum had spoken of him, and she'd known he would be coming. Maybe she even knew about the gift in the pouch.
She didn't speak, not even a greeting. Just stared at him.
He dipped his chin. "You are Callum's daughter."
She blinked. Had he said something that should surprise her? Maybe Callumhadn'tspoken of him.
Disappointment pinched.
At last, she spoke. "You know my father?"
The disappointment nudged harder, but Two Stones pushed it down. Callum must not have mentioned him, for surely she would know him if her father had described him even a little—a man of the People who dresses as a white man, traveling throughout the mountains, locating trade goods that were hard to find. He'd built a reputation for this skill. For his ability to seek out what others could not.
He nodded. "I am Two Stones. I bring what Callum asked me to trade for." He used his best English, clearing away as much of his accent as he could. Why he did so, he couldn't have said. He shouldn't want to prove anything to this woman. Especially if Callum—a man he considered one of his nearest friends—hadn't seen fit to mention him to his daughter.
"Come in." The woman murmured barely loud enough to hear as she stepped back, allowing him room to enter. "My father is hurt."
Two Stones stepped inside. Callum's injury must be what kept him from greeting Two Stones at the door. He would find something to help his friend recover before he left Virginia City.
The air inside pressed down on him—the scent of sickness. She'd said injury, though, hadn’t she?
She led him toward the back room, where faint light barely filtered through the darkness.
"Two Stones." The voice rasped with weakness but held an unmistakable warmth. "Come closer, my friend."
