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“If things go wrong—”

“I’ll come home.”

Mama shook her head. “Pray first, Edie. Don’t come running back because something frightens you.”

Eden stared at her mother.

“I know,” Mama said, blinking rapidly. “I’m surprising myself.”

Eden hugged her until the bonnet slipped sideways. Mama smelled of lavender and starch, and Eden wished for one more ordinary morning together.

When they parted, Josiah stepped forward.

“If this Jesse fellow is rude, I can limp west and glare at him.”

“That would terrify him.”

“I have an effective glare.”

“You tried it on a goat once. It ate your sleeve.”

“A tactical defeat.”

The conductor called for passengers.

Josiah took both of her hands. “You stayed when I needed you.”

“I’d do it again.”

“I know. Now go do something for yourself.”

He kissed her cheek and stepped back. His limp showed, but he didn’t reach for the station post.

Eden climbed aboard.

At the top step, she faced them once more. Mama stood close to Josiah, her hand tucked into his arm. He raised his free hand in farewell.

Eden gripped Emily’s telegram through the fabric of her pocket. The conductor called again, and she stepped into the train car.

Chapter Two

October 1880—Flat River, Nebraska

Jesse woke with blood on his tongue and someone telling him to lie still.

He tried to swallow. His throat burned. The bed pitched beneath him, and he grabbed at the sheet with his left hand.

“Easy, Jess.”

Nate.

Jesse tried to turn toward his brother. Pain struck behind his eyes, and he cried out before he could stop himself.

“Don’t move your head.” Nate’s hand settled against his shoulder. “You’re at my clinic. You’re safe.”

The clinic?

Jesse forced his right eye open. The left wouldn’t budge. Lamplight stabbed through the narrow opening, but he kept looking until he found Nate beside the bed.