Atop his horse, Wyatt patted his vest pocket underneath his coat and traced the outline of the ring. Had he been too rash in buying it for Greta? He reckoned it’d be the easiest way to let on that he wanted to keep their marriage going. ’Cause he did, didn’t he?

At a wiggle in the small crate on his lap, he peeked inside, as he had dozens of times during the long day of traveling back from Mosquito Gulch. With the rough terrain, he’d been afraid he’d have trouble with his extra load. But thankfully, the ride toward home had been uneventful. Except for the cow having a hoof abscess and slowing things down, he hadn’t had any problems.

The cow he’d bought with the earnings from Greta’s plum jam.

Though she had encouraged him to use the money to help pay for his family’s journey out here, he had to make sure Flynn agreed to moving first. And knowing his brother, he’d have a burr under his saddle and refuse to consider coming west.

Greta had easily accepted Wyatt’s decision and instead asked for a milking cow she could use for butter making. He already had one pregnant heifer and hoped to breed more. So while tracking down the cow hadn’t been easy, getting another for breeding was actually a smart plan.

Then again, just about everything Greta did was smart. She’d proven that her business efforts were worth the initial investment. No doubt she’d make just as much selling butter in town as she had with her jam and hand pies. She’d recently hatched chicks in her efforts to increase the number of laying hens. At some point, she’d have more than enough eggs to sell in town too.

She was as shrewd and savvy as the best businessmen he knew. Her suggestions regarding the farm and cattle were always intelligent. Her foresight was accurate. And her willingness to work hard was unmatched—except maybe by his.

As his horse reached the top of a rise, he reined in, sat back in his saddle, and swept his gaze over his land. The acreage spread out for as far as he could see, endless grass bending in the wind, as though kneeling in reverence to the white-capped mountains in the distance.

The sorrow that had been plaguing him since getting Flynn’s letter a few days ago reared up and kicked Wyatt in the gut. If only his ma had been able to come and see all this . . . she would have loved it.

And now with the war dragging out, he was worried about all three of his brothers joining up. He was surprised Flynn wasn’t fighting yet but was relieved that with Ma gone, he was still home taking care of things.