Oregon, Spring 1887

"They really do make a fine couple," Emily Atwater gripped her coffee mug in both hands as the steam rose up against the cold morning air. Anna kept her gaze forward on the rolling hills, not wanting to look at her mother and engage further in the conversation. She wasn't interested in their neighbor's marriage.

The view from their front porch also held a view of the grazing cattle, where her older brother, Justin, atop a horse, was moving them from the backside lot.

"You know, that Daniel, he is eligible. And handsome. You should pay him a visit in town."

Anna's father rode up and hitched his bay horse to the porch rail outside the house.

"Good mornin', my girls," he said and kissed his wife on the forehead. "Isn't it too hot for you out here today, Em? Maybe you should lie down upstairs for a while?" Then her brother rode up.

"I'm hungry! Did you girls make enough food for me?"

"We had a late breakfast, and I thought you had eaten before..."

"I could use some pan bread! Could you fry us up something, please, Sis?"

"When you are done, I think there is some washing to do," said her father, his brow narrowing. His mustache twitched. "You are falling behind on your chores again. You will never make a man happy if you don't shape up. You're already twenty with no marriage prospects on the table; it's a darn shame."

She kept her eyes to the floor, head bowed. "Yes, Daddy."

He turned to his wife, saying, "Emily, it's pretty cold out today. Maybe you should go inside, you know your constitution is not strong."

Anna's chest tightened. This was exactly why she wasn't in any rush to marry any time soon. Her mother didn't help with the horses, or anything, what with her father treating her like a dainty princess.

While her mother rambled on about bachelors and more town gossip, Anna could only think about her younger brother.

"Mama, have you received any letters from Walter?" asked Anna.

"Why, no, honey, not lately," answered her mother.

"I was hoping to go visit him on his new farm soon. But he hasn't sent any word since he left home." Her younger brother, Walter, had left home to marry three months ago. It wasn't that long ago, but it was odd he hadn't written. They had been so close.

"He's probably just busy," said her mother, "Fitting in with his new wife, and figuring everything out. It's a new life! He hasn't got time anymore, like he had when he lived here. Be patient with him."

"That town where his farm is, it's half a day's ride away on horseback. I could go visit him tomorrow."

"Aw, leave him be. I'm sure he's fine. And what's a girl like you going to do alone? It would be improper. Unsafe."

"Mama, you know I want to join him. Help on his farm."

Her mother took another sip of coffee and sighed. "Anna, when are you going to give up on this silly idea of being a ranch hand?" she asked. "I know you grew up on a cattle ranch with brothers, but you got the wrong idea to think you are one of them. We are women! You will marry, and hopefully someday soon. You're twenty and it's time. I think you will calm down then and see that a ranch hand's life is not for a lady. As a rancher's wife, you will elegantly lead from afar. It is not the work of a lady to ride horses and chase cattle all day."

"I can't understand it," said Anna wistfully. "I just feel compelled to that life. The wind in my hair, the freedom to ride, to be helpful with my own two hands, building things."

"Oh, pish posh—you're romanticizing a tough life. One which women are not suited for," said her mother. "Your father is spoiling you, letting you behave like a tomboy. If you had the chance to do it, you would grow out of it after one week."

"I would rather do that than simply marry and stay in the house. But that is beside the point. It is odd that we haven't heard from Walter in weeks. He's the baby of the family," argued Anna.

Her mother shook her head. "He's all grown up and can do what he pleases."

They had been close, she and Walter. He had got to do more ranch stuff, being a boy and all. She could still remember going into the calving pen, at the age of eleven, and watching the cows give birth. The weather was nippy, and the pen smelt of pent up cattle, but she loved the cows, large and pregnant. When one actually started to give birth, she got up close to watch, not so much from curiosity about reproduction but from curiosity about living things, and the cycle of life and death. Cows were natural beings, but needed to be nurtured and cared for; in return they provided a living for her family. While cattle were not really trained or pets, like the dogs and even the horses, they needed care, or they would be preyed on by wolves or the calves born with trouble.

When the first cow gave birth, amidst much appreciation from her brothers and father, she felt a small part of the triumph. How great it was to be helping a small life come into the world. Little did she know that was man's work and forbidden.

"Anna, get into the house and fix some biscuits and coffee, the boys will be hungry after seeing to the calving," instructed her father. Her father somehow knew how to nip her dreams in the bud. Walter, who did nothing, got to stay and watch the newborn prance about the pen on wobbly new legs, as the mother nuzzled the calf to nurse. Well, it was not Walter's fault she was a girl, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Now they were older, and Walter was gone but he had promised to write and create an opportunity for her. As the youngest son, he couldn't count on inheriting the family farm here. He had needed to start his own life, pursue other means. She had always felt like his protector, but now he was all grown up, moved away. Several months ago, on a morning much like this one, he had been sitting at the breakfast table, looking through the classified section in the state newspaper, and come across a particular classified ad that had struck him.

He had answered, which prompted a correspondence; a chain of back-and-forth letters passed between them. One day he packed his bags and set off on horseback to meet this woman in person, with the intent on marriage if things worked out. Off to his new life.

He said he would write, but months passed, and the letters never came. Everyone assumed he had married the woman and became too busy. Anna hadn't heard from him in three months now. How could that be, when they had been so close? She remembered with a sigh.

She stood, hands on hips, and looked down at the plates and empty coffee mugs.

"Are you finished with breakfast, Mother?"

"Yes, dear, thank you."

Anna took the dishes into the kitchen. When she had finished washing them, she went up to Walter's bedroom to sort through the letters for more information, any clues that could possibly explain it. Where exactly he had gone would be a good place to start.

She picked up a page in Walter's hand, correspondence, which seemed to be a draft of a letter he had later copied and sent. "I think I'm in love with you. Let's arrange a time to meet. I will visit your ranch and bring the money you requested from my end for the commitment. Tell me only when the date can be, and I shall anticipate it," the letter said.

Her mother leaned in the doorway, watching her.

Letters passed under Anna's eyes.

Dearest,

I yearn to meet you and start our life together. I am sure you will be as charming in person as in your letters, and I will be the man you need to run the Ranch.

That was Walter, optimistic and helpful all the time.

Anna thought back on another moment from her childhood with Walter. They had been out in the woods, rabbit hunting one autumn. She was ten, Walter nine. They had these wooden bows carved by their father, and though they had tried to be silent as they stalked through the woods, their feet had crunched so loudly with every step.

"We're too loud! There's no rabbit out for miles; with feet like these we will scare them back into their holes!" Walter complained. "Then let's stop and crouch behind the bushes so we can wait for them to come to us," Anna had said. They were under the large tree canopy, but a field lay just over the hill for them to hunt the rabbits, if they came looking for harvest crops.

It didn't take long, sitting there, trying to be silent, before Walter's patience evaporated like so much morning dew. He started shuffling noisily, so she put a finger to her lips, but soon she was just as restless and bored as he. No rabbits were in sight. They shuffled, giggled, and soon started pushing each other until their hiding place was gone and the rabbits forgotten. Their bows lay discarded as they tumbled and chased each other through the soft, crunchy leaves. Those were good times.

A shadow startled them, scaring her so much she thought it might have been a brown bear, until their father stood over them, scowling. "What are you kids messing around for?"

"Sorry, Papa, we were hunting rabbits," said Anna.

"We? Walter should be learning to hunt from his brothers. Anna, you should know better than to try and sneak out with him to play boy's pranks."

"But Papa! Walter wasn't doing any harm showing me what he's learned. He's a good boy; it was all my idea."

"I believe it. Anna, you are old enough to know better than to lead your brother astray. You're a pretty flower, and you'll poke an eye out if you shoot that thing! Now go back to the house and sweep the floors. Walter, I will show you how to walk silently through the woods tomorrow." He ruffled Walter's hair. "Now run along, boy."

Walter turned back to Anna as he left, and he gave her a grateful smile for sticking up for him. It had still been a nice afternoon, despite her father.

Anna sighed and found the cutting. It was the initial ad that had drawn Walter's attention:

Wanted: A steady and reliable man. A woman who owns a beautifully located and valuable farm in first-class condition wants a good and hardworking man to marry and become a partner in the same. Some cash is required for initial security.

"This says her name was Belle Benning, and her farm is at 55 Cherry Springs. She is a rancher with a two hundred head of cattle."

"Mama, something is wrong. I can sense it. Walter promised he would write once he got there and met her. I miss him and worry about him; he could have been bushwhacked or taken ill."

She nodded, a tear in her eye. "Go find your brother. But do come back as soon as you do, please," she said.

"I will do my best. If you don't hear from me soon, send Pa and Justin."

She nodded again.

There was no train to Cherry Springs, it being north of them and the trains going only west and east from the station in town.

She'd have to ride her horse, Juniper, for 40 miles, over a half day's ride. But she could do it.

Anna packed her saddlebags with a change of clothes, a fresh loaf of bread, and her favorite book, "The Last of the Mohicans," saddled up Juniper, and prepared for the long ride as she left her hometown of White Gorge for the distant town of Cherry Springs. As she rode, far away, she could see the most breathtaking view of the mountains, jagged and steep, with the green of her family farm behind her in the morning sun.