In the fading evening light, Greta kept looking at Wyatt and memorizing him, from the strong way he held himself in his saddle to the powerful build of his torso. The determined tilt of his hat. The scruffy dark layer of whiskers on his face. The tough set of his jaw.

She loved everything about him and wanted to carry every detail with her when she left tomorrow. As much as she wanted to delay a few more days or even a week, the stagecoach driver had warned her that this might be the last ride out. Already they’d had a hard time pushing through the highest passes with snow up to five feet in some places and the trail covered in ice in other spots.

Now that the plans were final, Greta’s last hurdle was convincing Astrid of the need to leave. Wyatt had promised to help. “She’ll go if she knows she can come back,” he’d said.

Greta prayed he was right.

“Let’s wait to tell her until the morning,” Greta said as the cabin came into view.

“Then you’re afraid she’ll run away again?”

“I don’t know what she’ll do.” The closer they drew to home, the more she dreaded facing the child with the news. Astrid would be devastated, maybe even feel betrayed, especially after how they’d bonded earlier in the day.

Wyatt reined in his horse, and Greta did the same.

Ahead, the cabin and barn sat against the backdrop of the mountains with the glow of the setting sun reflected on the golden aspens, dark evergreens, and gray rocky crags. The few remaining cattle grazed in the barnyard along with the chickens. It was a stunning view, one she wanted to capture and take with her so she could remember everything about this rugged place during the days to come.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed. “And has so much potential.”

“It is mighty beautiful.” He swept his gaze over the landscape too. “But I can’t deny that I’m scared to death of what the future holds.”

She was scared too. Nothing was certain in life, not in this wild land where anything could happen—dangerous thieves, inclement weather, unpredictable Utes, wild animals, and crooked neighbors. The odds of being able to make it were stacked against them. Just like the odds were stacked against Astrid.

However, Greta refused to accept defeat with the ranch every bit as much as she refused to accept defeat with Astrid’s consumption. She had to cling to the impossible. Could she do so with their marriage too?

As though sensing her question, Wyatt dismounted, came around to her horse, and reached out a gloved hand. His eyes beckoned her to take hold.