CHAPTER 1
September, 1869
Balfour Ranch, near Walnut Springs, Montana Territory
“What’s going on?” James Balfour propped his elbows on the polished oak dining table, glancing around at his three brothers as his insides knotted. They’d all gathered at Enoch’s request, which meant something serious. Especially since Enoch had sent the women outside for a walk to see the horses that were pastured nearest the house. In other words, out of earshot.
Enoch leaned forward, keeping his voice low. “We need help.” The words hung in the air like smoke from Mrs. Wang’s kitchen fire.
James arched a brow, scanning from one brother to the next. Enoch wasn’t the sort to admit needing anything. “What kind of help?” Though he suspected the answer. He’d seen the fatigue in Mrs. Wang’s face, the way she moved slower these days.
“For Mrs. Wang.” Enoch’s jaw worked. “She’s kept this place running for years, never a word of complaint. But with Mandie’s condition…” He nodded toward the window, where his wife, very heavy with child, walked with their housekeeper. “And winter coming on early, it’s too much for one person.”
Enoch had a valid point. One James should have voiced already.
Thomas, youngest of them all, spoke up. “You’re right. She’s not getting any younger. The work’s harder on her, even if she’d never say so.”
The silence that followed felt final, as though they’d all known it and only now put it to words.
Robert nodded from across the table. “The preserving alone nearly did her in this year. All those vegetables from the garden, plus the meat from the cattle we slaughtered. She was up until near midnight for a week straight.”
A familiar pang of guilt pressed in James’s chest. He’d been so focused on the ranch work, on getting the cattle and horses ready for winter, that he hadn’t paid enough attention to what was happening inside the house. Mrs. Wang had been like a favorite aunt—or maybe a mother—his entire life. He had to do a better job watching over her.
“So what are you thinking?” Robert settled back in his chair, arms crossed, gaze steady. “Hire someone from town?”
“That’s the problem.” Enoch ran a hand through his dark hair. “There’s no one available in Walnut Springs. The few women who might be suitable are already spoken for or have their own families to tend.”
“We could put out word farther south.” Robert had that thoughtful expression he wore when his mind was calculating a problem. “Maybe someone in Helena would be willing to come up here.”
James’s mind began to race, an idea forming so quickly it nearly took his breath away. Rose. Sweet Rose, with her gentle hands and kind heart who used to help Mrs. Wang in the kitchen when they were children. Rose, who’d disappeared from his life when he was nine, leaving nothing but an ache that had never quite healed.
He cleared his throat. “I might know of someone.”
Three pairs of eyes turned to James with varying degrees of surprise. Enoch’s dark brows drew together. “Who?”
James cleared his throat, suddenly feeling like that nine-year-old boy again, trying to explain why Rose mattered so much. “Rose Prescott. You remember her—she and her mother came from England with us and lived here for a while before Mother passed.”
“Rose?” Enoch’s face lit up with recognition. “Little Rose with the red hair who used to sing when she worked with Mrs. Wang?”
“That’s her.” Warmth spread through his chest at the memory. Her voice had such a soothing quality, he’d wanted to listen to it for hours. “She’d be perfect for this. She already knows the house, knows our family…”
“James.” Enoch’s voice carried a note of gentle warning. “That was twelve years ago. She’s not a child anymore, and from what I recall, she and her mother left rather suddenly.”
“I know where she is.” He almost regretted the admission when all three brothers stared at him with renewed interest.
“You do?” Thomas leaned forward. “How?”
James shifted in his chair. “Virginia City. She’s…a singer there. Goes by Ruby Starling now. I saw an advertisement in the newspaper for her musical performances.”
The hush stretched between them like a tight rope.
Robert spoke first, his gaze studying James. “You’ve been keeping track of her.”
It wasn’t a question, and the weight of his brothers’ scrutiny pressed in around him. “Not keeping track, exactly. Just…I heard about this singer, Ruby Starling, and something about the name struck me. Then I saw an advertisement in the Virginia City paper with a sketch of her.” The jolt of recognition when he’d seen that familiar smile staring back at him from the newsprint had been almost jarring. “It was definitely her.”
Enoch studied him with those piercing blue eyes that seemed to see straight through to a man’s soul. “Virginia City’s a rough place, James. If she’s performing there…”
“She’s making an honest living.” His tone came sharper than he’d meant it to. “Rose would never—” He caught himself. He sounded too defensive. “Look, I’m just saying she might welcome a change. Performing can’t be easy work.”
