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rubbed her head with her hands. Coming to California was a terrible plan. She was growing less certain that she could find Jasper and, even if she did, he would never give her what belonged to her. She hadn’t wanted to go back to New York, and St. Louis had never felt like a home. Wearily, she climbed in the wagon. Now that she was almost there, she wanted to be anywhere but the Sacramento Valley.
    Two of the women glared at Annie with barely veiled hostility. Annie shook her head. No use crying over spilt milk.
    She climbed up onto the seat of the wagon. Nothing to do but keep going now, but Annie had to face the fact. One way or the other, her foreseeable future was entwined with Collin Mackinnon’s.
    They rode late and finally found some water to camp near. Everyone rushed to make dinner and once done, Annie was looking forward to collapsing for the night. It was nearly dark, but she could hear the whispers coming from nearby.
    She rolled out her mat and pretended she didn’t hear, but they were getting closer. It wasn’t just women’s voices. She could hear men’s low tones, filtering through the din. Her insides fluttered. Gripping the pistol at her waist and squaring her shoulders, she turned towards the noise.
    Annie swallowed hard. A group of ten or more settlers stood in front of her. Barney Michaels stood at the front of the group. He claimed to be a reverend but Annie didn’t trust him one bit. He looked at her like a piece of meat. There was nothing holy about this man. He had greasy hair and beady eyes with a long scraggly grey beard.
    “We want to talk to you, Annie Sullivan. If that is even your name.” His voice boomed over the wagon train.
    “Well then, talk.” Her palm gripped the butt of the gun.
    “We can’t have an immoral woman in our midst,” he said. The other settlers murmured their approval. “You say you’re a widow but you refuse to tell anyone your past. You look…” He paused to look her up and down.
    “I want to know what you’re hiding. Why won’t you tell anyone who you are?” another man grumped from the back of the group.
    “I told you who I am. I’m Annie Sullivan.”
    “Why are you travelling to San Francisco alone?” A woman in the front crossed her arms over her chest.
    Annie cleared her throat. Mack was right, she needed some of these people to be her friends. “My husband died there. He was searching for gold. I don’t know exactly what happened, but I’m going to find out.”
    “How long were you married?” someone asked.
    “Just over a year.” Annie searched the group for a friendly face.
    “And he left you? Why?”
    “We were travelling together but I got sick…” Annie paused, tears welling in her eyes. She would not let them out.
    “Are you contagious?”
    “No, of course not.” The crowd pressed closer and Annie took a half step back.
    “Why would he leave you sick?”
    “What did you have?”
    “Why…”
    “That’s enough.” It wasn’t spoken loudly but Mack spoke with an authority that left little room for argument.
    “Wee want answers―“ Reverend Michaels started.
    “You will stop talking or you will find your own way across this state. Am I clear?”
    Someone else called from the back, “Why are you always defending her?”
    “Why are you attacking her? I carried her into the woods to talk. That was it. She didn’t do a thing.”
    “She’s hidin’ somethin’. I know it.”
    “She’s too pretty to just be alone.”
    “She’s after somethin’ in California. Women don’t just travel there for nothin’.” Everyone was talking at once and they seemed to grow more agitated with every accusation.
    His hand came to her back. He gave her a questioning look. In response to the unasked question, she gave a single nod. “Annie didn’t want to tell you because it was so soon after the death of her first husband. We were in the woods yesterday so that I could ask Annie to marry me.”
    The mood instantly changed.