The voice comes faintly over the muddy fields. A man on horseback waves his hat at me—one of the cattle drivers. I don’t remember his name, but I’ve passed him at least twenty times, watching his herd dwindle from hundreds of cattle to dozens as he sold them off. This is the first time he’s called out to me. At my urging, Peony trots toward him. Maybe he remembers that I was looking for someone.

“Did you find your friend?” he asks as I pull up.

It’s hard to keep the disappointment from my face. “Not yet. Guess I’ll give him another day.”

“There aren’t many more days to give.” A wad of chewing tobacco puffs out his cheek, and he shifts it to the other side. Brown juice stains his graying beard. “I’ll be taking the rest of the herd out soon.”

I repeat the same thing I’ve said a hundred times the past few weeks: “Well, good luck. Maybe I’ll see you in California.”

“I could use an extra hand. The rest of my crew ran off with other companies when the weather turned. I’ve only got about sixty head left. Too much work for one man, but not quite enough for two. So one and a half seems about right. I’ve seen you on that pony. You ride well, and a sturdy little lady like that should do fine on the trek. You interested?”

My head spins. I haven’t given much thought to working my way west. When I had the Hawken, I figured I’d buy as many supplies as I could and hunt for the rest. “What’s the pay?”

He turns his head to squirt out a line of tobacco juice, then he squints at the horizon. “Board, if that’ll suit you. All the way to California, or wherever you hop off. Course, a fair bit of it’ll be beef.”

It’s a good offer. Still, I hesitate.

“And two dollar and two bits a week, to be paid whenever we decide to part ways,” he adds in response to my silence. “If any of the cattle make it as far as San Francisco, I figure I can sell them for five to ten times what I can get here. So there might be a bonus.”

I do the arithmetic in my head. I’d end up with around fifty dollars. More than enough to buy pickaxes and lumber and food to get me started. “Sir, I don’t recall your name.”

“It’s Jacob, Jacob Jones.”

“Mr. Jones, it sounds like a fair offer. But I still need to look for my friend. We planned to meet here and go together.”

“Could be gone with another train already. Could be waiting for you there.”

“Could be.” It feels like no matter what I decide, it’ll be a mistake.

Jacob says, “Have you checked the post office lately?”