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Amy slung the reins over the hitching rail, the door to
the dry-goods store swung open. Hannah and her husband stepped out.
    Joshua doffed his hat and mumbled a greeting and then
escaped to their buckboard with their little boy, leaving the women to talk.
    Amy smoothed her hands over the unfamiliar contours of her
skirt and tried a smile. "Hello, Hannah."
    "Amy." A smile dimpled Hannah's chubby cheeks.
"How have you been? I never get to see you anymore."
    "We had a lot of work out on the ranch, trying to get a
herd together so Papa can drive them to Fort Boise."
    "Fort Boise?" Hannah's brow furrowed. "Josh
says there have been massacres up there."
    "I heard."
    The mines in the Boise Basin lured more settlers to the
area, and sporadic raids by small bands of Indians started. The cavalry
promptly retaliated. Papa said the Snake War was a conflict between people who
both saw the other as a threat to their homes and their way of life.
    "My father took Phin and two of our best hands, just in
case. I'm sure they'll be fine," Amy said, willing it to be so.
    "How are your parents doing?"
    Amy stiffened. Most people asked about her parents just so
they could gossip about them afterward. Not Hannah . Hannah never
criticized Mama for teaching school even though she was a married woman or Papa
for letting Amy ride around in pants. When other girls whispered and laughed at
Amy, Hannah never joined in.
    "They're fine," Amy said.
    "Listen, we want to build a new barn before we bring in
the first crop of hay this year." Hannah looked at her husband. "You
think your papa could help Josh lay the foundation when he's back from Fort
Boise?"
    Amy nodded. Papa never said no when a neighbor needed help.
"I'll let him know. If he's not back in time, the rest of the family will
be over to help."
    "Thank you." Hannah gave her a soft squeeze.
    Amy glanced at the hand on her arm. Her skin tingled where
Hannah touched her, and Amy clamped her teeth together. "I better
go." She pointed at the dry-goods store. "Mama gave me a list as long
as my arm."
    "Come over and visit soon," Hannah said. "We
used to spend so much time together, and now I never see you anymore."
    With a noncommittal nod, Amy hurried away.
    The bell over the door jingled as Amy entered. Familiar
smells of licorice, leather, and vinegar tickled her nose.
    "Amy Hamilton! Come over here and let me look at
you!" Jacob Garfield said from behind the long counter. "Haven't seen
you in some time. How are you doing?"
    "Keeping busy," Amy said.
    Jacob pointed at the door. "You just missed Hannah. My
daughter says she hasn't seen you in a while either. I remember a time when you
two were joined at the hip." He chuckled.
    Amy fixed her gaze on racks of sewing thread and embroidery
floss in front of her. "Things change when you grow up," she said.
"But I promised to help Hannah and Josh with their barn." Before
Jacob could ask more questions, she handed her list over the counter.
    Jacob turned and measured out a pound of salt. "You
wanna take a look at the dresses while you wait? I hear there's gonna be a
wedding at the Hamilton outfit soon."
    Word traveled fast in a small town like Baker Prairie.
    With little interest, Amy's gaze slid over new skirts and
dresses, ribbons, and bolts of fabric laid out on a long table to catch the
ladies' attention. "No, thank you." A new dress worn only to church
was a waste of hard-earned money. Her Sunday dress would do for the wedding.
    Jacob heaved a sack of flour onto the counter and piled the
rest of Amy's order on top. Finally, he opened a big glass jar and scooped
lemon drops into a small paper bag. He'd done that since Amy had been a little
girl, coming into the store with her parents, and she always shared her bounty
with Papa.
    But now he was gone, and the lemon drops and the
responsibility for the ranch were hers.
    When Amy reached for the sack of flour to heave it onto her
shoulder, Jacob stared at her with wide eyes. "Oh, no, leave that here.
I'll have