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ready to leave Piney Creek by six the next morning. She mentioned that she'd use the rest of the day trying to sell her claim, but she doubted anyone would buy it. He inquired if she needed assistance packing, and she stared at him as if he'd lost his senses.
    "Well," he said after a minute. Pulling his watch out of his pocket, he consulted the time as if he had somewhere to go and something to do. "I guess I'll…"
    She picked up her pan and carried it into the water, slapped at a mosquito on her throat, then squatted.
    "I caught a trout this morning, and I've got some wild onions to cook with it. You want to come to supper?"
    Her back was to him, and her hat brim covered the nape of her neck and the sides of her face.
    "I've already made plans," he said hastily, the lie stiff on his lips.
    A shrug adjusted the long coil of dirty hair. "Suit yourself."
    He'd climbed the incline before she glared over her shoulder and called up to him.
    "McCord? Remember yesterday when I promised to obey? Well, I lied. I won't obey any man." She turned back to the creek and plunged her pan into the swiftly flowing cold water. "The other vows were lies, too."
    Standing in the tall grass at the top of the bank, he watched for a moment, thinking what a strange creature she was.
    Years ago when he'd been young enough to believe such matters lay within his control, he had described his future wife to his brother. She would be small and dainty and beautiful, blond and blue-eyed. Her nature would be as sweet as the scent of her hair and skin. She would be accomplished in the womanly arts and would entertain him in the evenings with music and song. Together they would make strong, handsome children.
    He hadn't known it then, he thought, gripping the marble, or maybe he had, but he'd been describing Philadelphia .
    Instead, he had married a woman as far from his ideal as it was possible to get.
    Right now, "low down" described his condition, too.

CHAPTER 3
    «^»
    L ow clouds hung in the valley folds, and ground mist floated around pines and brush creating a damp gray world that matched Low Down's mood when she stepped out of her tent.
    Things were progressing as expected, which was to say that she had lost control of her life. In about an hour she would head west for no other reason than because that was where her new, unwanted husband wanted to go. Had he troubled himself to inquire if she had someplace she would rather go, like south?
    No, he had not. Had he explained why they had to travel west instead of heading somewhere warm for the winter? Well, she could guess that Philadelphia lived in her grandfather's town and Max wanted to see her, but he hadn't explained. Not a word. It was just pack up and be ready to leave at sunup.
    Already she saw confirmation that she had to obey in certain matters, like it or not. If she wanted a baby, she had to follow wherever her husband's privates went, regardless of where she might want to go.
    Swinging her leg back, she started to kick something on the ground but stopped in time when the mist swirled around her boot revealing that the object she'd been about to kick was not a stone. Sinking down on her heels, she discovered a speckled blue metal cup in almost-new condition. Just beyond the cup sat a coffeepot that hadn't been used enough to blacken the bottom. Next to the pot were two clean bandannas hardly even faded. And then a real prize, a small pouch holding six fair-sized nuggets. The nuggets had to be from Frank, she guessed, blinking hard.
    Between her tent and her campfire, she found a set of stirrups, a saddle blanket, a new hat with only one hole in it, a bone-handled comb with most of the teeth intact, a barely used toothbrush and a mostly full tin of tooth powder, a silver spoon, a pocket watch in a leather case, a pair of neatly mended wool socks, a well-thumbed songbook to add to her collection, and leather gloves in much better condition than her own.
    And that wasn't all. Someone had started