Greta stopped next to him, her breathing shallow from the exertion of the hike. In the distance, thick clouds were moving in and obscuring the setting sun, and the sky had turned a mixture of deep purple and orange.

Darkness was settling fast, and she was running out of time.

She followed Mr. McQuaid’s gaze downward to a river winding through a rocky embankment littered with all manner of mining equipment.

During the stagecoach ride up into the mountains, she’d come across other mining camps and had begun to learn the names of the tools, like sluice and rocker boxes. But at the moment, she wasn’t interested in the mining process.

The only thing she cared about was finding Astrid.

She squinted downriver. “Do you think she came out this far?”

“It’s possible.”

A familiar weight of failure settled over Greta. Somehow she was always doing things wrong with Astrid. “She runs off now and then but has never gone this far before.”

“Maybe she heard the men in the store talking about finding gold.”

After the robbery that morning and Greta’s scolding, Astrid had finally realized they had no money. And after learning Phineas had died and that they had no place to go, her sister had been unusually quiet.

If she’d heard the fellas in the store telling tales about gold, had she thought she could walk down to the river and find nuggets so they would have money again?

Greta sighed. “She’s probably hoping to get rich quick in order to make up for losing our money during the stagecoach robbery.”

“Steele mentioned you all were robbed.”

She swallowed a rising lump in her throat. “I’m told I should be grateful our lives were spared, and I am. But I may have no other option but to take up gold digging right alongside Astrid.”

Mr. McQuaid pursed his lips even as he continued to scrutinize the riverbank below.

“Do you know Mr. Steele?” She tried to turn the conversation away from the pain of her loss.

“Yep. He’s the one who told me I should help you.”

“By help, you mean marry?”

“Yep.” Mr. McQuaid’s expression was as hard as granite. He hadn’t seemed too thrilled about the possibility of getting married before. And he still didn’t. So why had he asked?

She wanted to question him more, but what was the point? She wasn’t planning to seriously consider his offer, was she? He was a stranger. Then again, Phineas had been a stranger too. Though they’d corresponded, no one could ever truly get to know a person without meeting face-to-face.