Carefully, she began to put on the underthings. They smelled of dust, but they were clean. To her surprise, each fit. She’d seen camisoles in the stores, but she’d never felt one lightly touch her skin. The bodice pushed up her breasts and slimmed her waist.

With each piece she felt like she was shedding her old skin and putting on another. The shoes were a bit too big. The jacket a little too small.

When she stood and looked in the cracked mirror, Em didn’t recognize herself. She pulled her damp, clean hair back with the combs and a woman stood before her. A lady in black with a widow’s pin over her heart.

A plan shot through her thoughts. This was her chance. If she didn’t take it, she’d wish every day for the rest of her life that she had.

Em rolled up the damp wool dress along with the towel and put them inside the leather bag. Then she circled the shawl over her shoulders, held her head high, and walked through the silent saloon. She quickly crossed to the kitchen and got the rusty tin that held her coins and rushed to the saloon’s front door.

As a man entered, he held the door for her and said a polite, “Mornin’, ma’am.” He didn’t realize his daughter was stepping out of his life.

“Goodbye, Father,” she whispered when the door closed.

With shaking bravery she walked toward the dock where people were already gathering to welcome the paddleboat’s arrival.

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Trapper spent the morning preparing for his new job as if it was an assignment during the war. He studied maps, learned a bit about his employer, the girls’ father, Colonel Gunter Chapman. He’d been an officer in the Mexican–American War back in the 1840s. He was ruthless and came home with injuries. But that hadn’t stopped him from moving farther west from the protection of even the forts and starting a huge ranch.

Trapper had seen that kind of man many times in the war. A king on his land.

Trapper bought clothes for winter, a new hat and a warm coat from his winnings last night. He’d worn most of his clothes too long for them to be presentable. Now, when he got to Dallas, he’d be dressed more like a cowboy, a Westerner. And, if the raiders killed him along the way, he’d have a fine funeral outfit.

Walking toward the dock, he planned. He’d meet the little ladies, tell them the rules for the trip, and get underway. He decided he needed only three rules. One: Be ready to travel at sunup. Two: Stop at midday for thirty minutes to rest, take care of private needs, and drink water. Three: At sundown make camp. He’d cook a meal of whatever he shot along the way or use the supplies.