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greeted her father, and went into the back room of the store, sending one last smoldering look towards Carl.

    He dropped a sigh of relief, then walked over to where his father and Ida’s were deep in discussion.

    “I’ve got my store,” Rand said. “I can make a living. You go ahead on. I’ll not set the Yankees to your trail.”

    “I hope you’ll give it a bit more thought, Rand. You’ve got goods here for a store in the Territory. Look around you and see the conditions hereabouts. Folks are starving, and all you can do is hand out credit and pray they’ll get a good crop to repay you.” Rod paused to scratch his nose. “Those miners in Colorado Territory have good hard money, gold dust and nuggets, mostly, and dug fresh out of the ground by their own hand. The things they lack are the goods you have right here. It don’t seem right when you could make a bunch of money, were you in Colorado. It’s not fair, somehow.”

    Carl wondered how long the silence would last. He glanced at Rand, and nearly laughed out loud at the hungry look that came across the older man’s face.

    “Gold dust and nuggets, you say?” Rand passed his hand over his face. “I’ll go with you Rod, but with all this inventory and my house goods, too, I’ll be needing an extra driver, and I’m willing to pay a good wage. Will you give me Carl, here?”

    Rod turned to his son, eyes twinkling. “Will you drive Mr. Hilbrands’ wagon, son?”

    “I reckon. You’ve got help a-plenty with the other boys.”

    “It’s done then, Rand.” Rod shook hands with his friend. “Have your wagons ready to go in a fortnight. We’ll meet at my farm, and get an early start.”

    “Good. I want to get out there before some other merchant garners all the business.” Rand chuckled, and rubbed his hands along his apron front.

    Rod waved good-bye and left the store, followed by Carl.

    “Well, Pa,” the young man said, once they were outside. “It didn’t take so long to change his mind.”

    “I reckon I saved the best for last, son. I knew Rand Hilbrands could never stand the thought of good hard gold a-slipping through his fingers.” Rod mounted his horse.

    “It surely was comical to watch his face change.” Carl swung into his saddle. “Who else do you aim to see here in town, Pa?”

    “I’m going over to speak with the blacksmith. I hear he’s been itching to go west since his wife died last winter. If he goes with us, Tom can take his little ones along, not leave them with the Campbells.”

    “Isn’t Tom O’Connor some kind of kin to the Campbells?”

    “Closer than most. Mistress Molly is Tom’s sister. Now if Angus will agree to go with us, the whole passel of them can stick together and make a new start in the Territory.”

    “Why don’t I go give the girls a hand, Pa? You don’t need me to talk to Mr. O’Connor.”

    “Have them ready to go when I get back. Look, there’s Angus Campbell himself, crossing the street up yonder. I may be gone for a while, son. I’ll see you back at the house.” Rod nudged his horse into a trot, and little puffs of dust arose as he went up the street.

    Carl turned off toward Rulon’s house. The sun had come out bright and strong, and it felt good and warm on his back. He grinned. “Hush, we’re going west.”

    As he reached the corner, Carl saw a group of mounted men dashing up the cross street in front of him. Panic rose in his throat as he recognized the Yankee patrol that had jumped him, and he wheeled his horse to find a place of concealment. Then he realized where he was, turned Sherando again, and tried to calm his pounding heart. The soldiers were probably racing through the streets of Mount Jackson to make a ruckus, and he felt foolish to be caught in their trap.

    “Easy, boy,” he told his horse. “It ain’t likely they’ll take after me in town.”

    The Yankees drew up at the far end of the street, then turned and started back to town. As they thundered