1
DECEMBER1868
CHEYENNE, WYOMINGTERRITORY
Laura Evans looked out the window at the snow-covered landscape as the train pulled into the Cheyenne station. After ten years living apart, she was about to be reunited with her father. At thoughts of Father, her fascination with the Western frontier faded, even as she surveyed the cowboy town that was to become her home.
Ten years.
Mama died in November of 1858. Consumption, the doctor said. A debilitating depletion of her body for which he had no understanding. And just a week after they buried her, Father sent Laura to boarding school over fifty miles away. Where he had gotten the money for such an endeavor was beyond Laura, but it had been her fate for the next decade.
In all those years, she’d only seen her father a handful of times. He had visited her at the boarding schools on several occasions and once during her college years. It had been six years since the latter visit. It came on the occasion ofFather settling her into the Tennessee women’s college he’d chosen for her. Even with the war raging, he had figured her to be safe there. When that proved otherwise, and the college closed, Father had arranged for her to go abroad with a teacher to escape the ugliness of war. Now, the world was set right again—or at least it was no longer pitting brother against brother in a war that Laura still found difficult to understand—and she would soon be with her beloved father once more.
Granite Evans was the light of her life. He was her hero. Despite having sent her away, Father had always meant the world to Laura. He was generous and kind, making sure she had everything she needed. His absence had been difficult, but Laura had reminded herself that Father hurt just as much, perhaps more, in losing Mama than she did. She respected that he had needed time alone to grieve and mourn. It hadn’t been easy for her, but Laura had been determined to be strong. She owed him that much.
“Cheyenne!” the conductor announced as he moved through the car. “All out for Cheyenne!”
Laura stood, adjusted her cloak, then brushed down the skirt of her burgundy traveling suit with her gloved hand. She wanted to look her best when she met her father again. She hoped—prayed—that he would be proud of her.
With the help of the porter, Laura stepped from the train, her travel bag clutched tight and her heavy wool cloak pulled close against her body. Father had told her that it would be cold in Cheyenne and to buy an appropriate wardrobe. She had taken the money he’d sent and did as instructed. As the December winds whipped at the hem of her cloak and skirt, Laura was glad she had listened.
She looked up and down the depot platform for some signof her father but found no one who resembled him. Six years was a long time, but she was certain he would look like he had when last he visited her.
Wouldn’t he?
Making her way inside the depot, Laura shifted her bag from one gloved hand to the other. Quite a few people crowded into the building alongside her, and she allowed herself to be caught up in the flow of their movements. All the while she kept looking for the stocky, mustached man she knew would be there. And he was.
She spied him across the room talking with a couple of other men. She called out to get her father’s attention. “Father!”
He looked up and caught her gaze. He smiled and quickly dismissed the two younger men. Crossing the room to greet her, he held open his arms.
“Laura!”
She dropped her bag and rushed to him. A sigh escaped her as his arms closed tightly around her. It was here she felt the safest and happiest. She thought of how few times she had known his tender embrace over the years, but she refused to let such thoughts discourage her. The fact that they’d had so little time together only served to make this moment all the more precious.
“Father, I’m so happy to see you again.” She breathed in deeply of his cologne and the unmistakable scent of cigars and coffee.
“I thought you’d never get here. Welcome home.”
Home. The word touched a place deep in her heart. She hadn’t had a home since Mama died. Oh, but Laura had longed for one. She had enjoyed very little consistency as a child attending boarding school. Year after year, her fathermoved her to a better, more stately and expensive school. As he was able to improve his own situation, he improved hers, never realizing that consistency would have been a bigger blessing than larger, more elegantly appointed rooms and educational halls.
Laura stepped back and studied her father from head to toe. He looked well and happy. “How wonderful it is to see you,” she told him. “I worried that I might not recognize you, but then I chided myself for such doubt. Nothing about you could ever seem foreign or strange to me.”
“And you.” He shook his head. “I had no idea you’d grow into such a beauty. You always favored your mother, but the last time I saw you, there were still remnants of childhood in your face and figure. That, alas, is gone for good. You are no more a child.”
“I was full grown last you saw me, or nearly so. Sixteen years old, in fact. Most of my fellow students were engaged to be married. I can’t imagine there being any remnants of childhood remaining then.”
“Well, there were. You were more gangly and awkward. Now you’re full grown and a lovely young woman.”
“Oh, Father, you do go on. Six years could not have made such a difference. You look the same as I remember you.”
“I’m an old man, and change is slower.”
She laughed. “You aren’t that old. Not even yet fifty.” She wrapped her arm around his. “I’m just so glad to see you again. I want to know everything that has happened to you in the last six years.”
He shook his head. “It’s more important we plan a future than lose ourselves in the past. That was the reason for our separation in the first place. A separation that has been difficult but necessary.”
She sobered. “And do you feel that time has healed your heart?”
