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gave her head a shake, chasing away her thoughts. She had too much to do to spend her time woolgathering in her bedroom.
    With practiced movements, she brushed her hair, caught it back from her face with a pair of ivory combs. A quick glance in the small hand mirror she’d brought from home told her she was presentable.
    She finished tidying her room, then found Dru in the kitchen, standing over a black iron stove.
    “Good morning, Miss Harris. Would you like some coffee? It’s hot.”
    “Yes. Thank you. I would like some.”
    Dru plucked a tin cup from a shelf above the stove and filled it with the dark brew. She carried it to the rough-hewn table, then settled onto the bench opposite Emily. “It’s good to be home. This cabin isn’t much, but it’s got wood floors and keeps out the wind and rain. Charlie wanted us to have as good a house here as at the main ranch, but he said this would do until he and Gavin could build it.”
    “Who’s Charlie?”
    The woman stared at her hands, folded atop the table. “Charlie was my husband. He died two years ago, up in Challis.” She stared toward the fireplace at the far end of the main room, and Emily saw the quickly hidden expression of grief that crossed her face. “Pet looks a lot like him. Everyone says so.”
    “But I thought . . . Gavin isn’t her father?”
    “No.” She returned her gaze to Emily. “When Gavin and I married, he adopted my daughters.”
    If Emily hadn’t seen Gavin and Dru together, if she hadn’t heard them talking, seen the tender way he treated her and the affection in her eyes when she looked at him, she might have thought Dru was still in love with Charlie . . .
    Before she could sort things out in her mind, the girls climbed down the ladder from their room in the loft.
    “Where’s Pa?” Sabrina asked as her feet touched the floor.
    “He rode out with Stubs at daybreak.”
    Sabrina’s face fell. “I wanted to show him the calf I found. I helped Jess rope him.”
    “Well, you can show him later. He’ll be back for breakfast.”
    Dru rose from the table as her daughters approached. She gave them each a hug, kissed both their cheeks, then reached for a bucket hanging on a hook. “Say good morning to Miss Harris.”
    “Morning,” the girls said in unison.
    “Here’s the bucket. You two gather the eggs, and I’ll fry the bacon. Hurry now.”
    “Is there anything I can do to help?” Emily asked as the door closed behind them.
    “Just talk with me. It’s been a long time since I’ve had another woman to visit with the way we’ve been doing this past week.”
    “Aren’t there any other women in the area?”
    “A few up in Sawtooth City. The sort who follow the miners from gold rush to gold rush, if you understand my meaning. But we’re the only ranchers who summer our cattle here.”
    “Why only for the summer?”
    “Winters are too harsh. There are four mountain ranges that circle this valley, and they hold the cold in. We’d lose too many of the herd if we stayed.” She shook her head. “Not that we don’t have hard winters at the Lucky Strike. I don’t want you thinking that. But it’s much worse here.”
    “Why come at all, then? From what you’ve told me of the Lucky Strike, it sounds like you would do well enough there.”
    Dru tossed a few pieces of wood inside the stove, then pulled a heavy frying pan from its hook on the wall. “I suppose the real reason is because I fell in love with this place the first time I saw it. I had a yearning to live here. So Charlie, Gavin, and Stubs came in that first spring and built this cabin, and then we trailed in our herd. The cattle thrived that summer, and they brought a good price when we sold them to feed the miners in Bonanza and Custer.”
    Dru worked as she talked, putting butter into the skillet, then adding sliced potatoes and onions. The room soon filled with delicious odors, and Emily’s stomach began to growl.
    Not long after, the door opened, and the