“I’ll eat with the boys out on the range. You could keep supper warm, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“No, it’s no trouble at all.”

He bent to kiss his daughter’s cheek, then settled his hat firmly on his head, his hard countenance shadowed by the brim.

Then, turning, he walked out the door, into the cold dark morning, leaving Heather to become acquainted with her new stepdaughter and her new life.

It was a pattern that repeated itself often during the following week—meeting for breakfast, then seeing little of each other until late at night.

A storm moved in that first evening, leaving a blanket of fresh snow covering the range. Before it hit, Sloan and his hands worked feverishly hauling hay they’d put up last summer out to the cattle. In a bad winter beeves were as likely to starve as freeze, for they were unable to get at the stubby grass beneath the heavy, crusted snow.

It took Heather only a day to discover how bitter a Colorado winter could be. When the winds swept down off the mountains, the snow swirled so thick she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face. Even shut up in the house, it was impossible to ward off the cold. She wore three pairs of drawers and bundled Janna in a woolen suit she fashioned out of a worn blanket, complete with mittens and hood.

The frigid weather was only one of the grueling challenges of her new life. Sloan had warned her what to expect, but she discovered firsthand how hard ranch life was. And how isolated. She kept busy with the endless chores—cooking and cleaning and washing, as well as caring for Janna—but loneliness gripped her heart like a fist, especially in the long hours after dusk while she waited for Sloan to return home.

Janna at least was a treasure. Heather cherished the little girl, who had the sweetest disposition of any child she’d ever known. But it was a struggle to keep her own spirits up. She crawled into bed each night, weary and sore and heartsick.

She made no complaint, though, particularly to Sloan. She doubted he would offer her anything in the way of sympathy. Indeed, he might just offer to buy her a train ticket back to St. Louis.

In any case, he had his own troubles to occupy him—chiefly, trying to save his herds from the crippling weather. He seemed to be fighting a losing battle.