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taller than her mother.
    Phin walked over with his spotted gelding. "You want us
to bring you back something from Boise, Miss Nattie?"
    "I'm not a child anymore." Nattie moved away from
Luke and put on a determined expression as she looked at Phin.
    "Right." Phin thumbed back his hat and grinned at
her. "So if I happen to come across something of that Jane Austen woman
you mentioned or a copy of the 'History of England,' I should just ignore it,
right?"
    Nattie's eyes sparkled, bringing out the green flecks in her
eyes and reminding Luke so much of Nora that it robbed her of breath for a
moment. "Ah, well, I'll make an exception for Jane Austen or the 'History
of England.'" Nattie looked from Phin to Luke. "But most of all, I want
you to come back safely."
    "We will," Luke said even though they all knew she
couldn't make any promises. With one arm still around Nattie and the other
holding on to Nora's hand, she turned toward Amy, who waited silently.
"Walk me to my horse?"
    Amy fell into step next to Luke, with Nattie and Nora
following. Her older daughter was half a head shorter, but their steps matched
in length and rhythm. How often had they walked like this, side by side, with
her teaching or instructing Amy?
    "I should be back in two months, maybe a little more.
I'll try to send word from somewhere along the trail. You take good care of
your mother and sister," Luke said. Nora didn't need someone taking care
of her, but Amy would feel better about staying behind if she felt she was
doing something important.
    Red locks bounced up and down when Amy nodded.
    "If it continues to rain like this, you'll have to
rotate the horses off the east pasture." Luke's gaze swept over the
paddocks and corrals and over the far hills. "And depending on how the hay
crop is doing, you'll need to bring in the first cutting on your own. Don't
wait until —"
    "— it's in full bloom, I know." Amy quirked a
grin.
    "Don't be such a mother hen." Nora caught up with
them and kissed Luke's cheek. "Amy knows what she's doing."
    She did.
    Pride flowed through Luke, and she smiled. Still, she
couldn't stop worrying. Amy was a top hand with the horses, but she'd never had
to run the ranch on her own without Luke there to give advice.
    Seems it's gonna be a time of new challenges for all of
us.
    Luke turned to Phin. "Ready?"
    "Ready, boss."
    One last kiss for Nora and hugs for the girls, then Luke
swung into the saddle. "Then let's go."
    *  *  *
    Darned thing! The ribbon of Amy's sunbonnet just
wouldn't give. She fumbled one-handedly while her right hand held the wagon's
reins. When the knot didn't come undone, she clamped her teeth around the reins
and, using two hands, finally freed herself of the bonnet.
    Not that Old Jack needed her to hold on to the reins. The
gelding had pulled the buckboard to town so often that he probably knew the way
better than she did.
    She lifted her face and let the light, steady drizzle
refresh her.
    "Whoa." A soft tug on the reins brought the
buckboard to a halt on the edge of a rocky ridge overlooking Baker Prairie. Below
her, the Molalla River, a frothing mountain stream, joined the broad,
glittering band of the Willamette River on its journey north.
    She sat up taller as she glanced back at gentle hills, lush
grass, and groves of Douglas firs. The roots binding her to this land were as
deep as those of the ancient firs.
    Above her, a flock of Canada geese formed a large V and a
red-tailed hawk glided through the air. Amy watched as he rose and fell with
the currents, drifting wherever he wanted, completely free.
    She wished she could be like that, riding freely instead of
having to spend the afternoon in town. But Phin's bride was bound to have some
baggage with her, so riding Ruby to town was out of the question.
    With a sigh, she placed the sunbonnet back on her head. The
ribbon tightened beneath her chin, and Amy swallowed. Then she smacked herself
in the thigh and clucked at Old Jack. "Hyah!"
    *  *  *
    When