During the stagecoach ride along the Oregon Trail, they’d passed many dead oxen on the side of the road. Some travelers claimed the cattle became too worn out pulling wagons up hills and through sand to go any farther. Others said they’d died from alkali poisoning. The livestock that made it were clearly not much better off.

As she approached, Wyatt stood and wiped his hands on his trousers. “Sure do want to take these Herefords off your hands, but it’ll take me a week or so to round up the cash.”

“We’re hoping to be moving on before that,” said the older of what appeared to be a father-son pair.

Wyatt kneaded the back of his neck, watching the oxen.

Greta stopped next to him and examined the bulls, trying to see in them what he did with his keen eyes and experience with cattle. He was obviously trying hard to build up his herd. But from what she’d been able to tell in the short time she’d been with him, the process was slow and hard and costly. At the rate he was going, it would be a long time before he’d have a self-sustaining ranch.

“How much are they asking?” she asked quietly.

“Only twelve dollars for the pair since they’re so sickly.” His reply was just as quiet.

She reached into her pocket and wrapped her fingers around the neckerchief and the leftover silver dollars. Though he’d instructed her to buy something special, she was too practical for that. She’d already decided she’d work on saving any extra earnings, just as she’d done with her jam money from back home, the money the stagecoach robbers had taken.

For an instant she let her fingers caress the solid pieces. Then she pulled out the neckerchief and held it out to Wyatt. “There’s ten dollars left.”

He took a rapid step back and held up his hands as if she’d pointed a gun at him. “I ain’t gonna take your money—”

“Our money. Whatever we have is ours.”

He paused, clearly recognizing her handing his words back to him.

“I’ve purchased all that I need.” She nodded at the sacks and crates in front of the store. “And I’ll make more next time we come to town.”

He hesitated.

She shoved the bundle into his hand, giving him no choice but to take it. He stared down at the outline of the coins a moment, then looked up at her. His eyes were warm and full of gratefulness. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

“Thank you kindly.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Wyatt. We’re just doing what we need to.”