she ran her fingers over the soft fabric, knowing that it would be many months before she again had need of such a frock, if ever. One chapter of her life was closing and a new one was opening. Thanks to Effie, she felt lighter, less burdened. A good way to begin her new adventure. She slipped between the sheets, said a prayer for the repose of Charlie’s soul as she always did and fell into a peaceful sleep.
Dressed in riding bloomers concealed under a full overskirt, Sophie waited with Effie in the early-morning light while the major led her recently purchased gray gelding from the barn. “You know your horseflesh,” he said, stroking the animal’s neck. “Ranger here should have the stamina and agility for mountain trails.”
“I agree. Besides—” she grinned “—he’s handsome, as well.” Turning to Effie, she let herself sink into the older woman’s warm embrace. “Thank you for everything, most of all for your encouragement. It’s been a difficult few years, but now I feel ready for whatever comes.”
“Keep in touch, my dear. We’ll be eager to hear of your adventures.” Effie held her at arm’s length. “But don’t be foolhardy.”
“I’ll try to behave myself.”
Robert handed her the reins and stood by while she mounted. “If you have half the good sense your brother Caleb showed with the cavalry, you’ll be fine. Godspeed, dear girl.”
Tate Lockwood rode over from the stock tank where he’d been watering his horse. “All set?”
Sophie blinked twice. This mountain man—dressed in worn breeches, scuffed boots, a chamois shirt and a leather, sheepskin-lined coat—bore no resemblance to the gentrified man of the evening before. In fact, last night, she’d questioned whether such a sophisticated gentleman was capable of handling the rigors of the high country. “I’m ready.”
His look begged the question “Are you really?” “Adequate clothing, full canteen?”
How irritating to be treated like the greenest of greenhorns. “Yes, sir,” she said, barely controlling her indignation.
“Robert, Effie, I’ll see that she arrives safely.”
“We have no doubt of that,” Effie said with a smile. “Now, off with you.”
Lockwood wheeled his horse and trotted toward the road. Sophie followed, her heart beating wildly. It had been many months since she had been this excited about life. What lay ahead, she did not know, but anything was better than the paralysis that had enveloped her since Charlie’s death. She faced the mountains, their purple-gray shadows slowly dissolving into a brilliant orange as the sun crested the horizon and bathed them in light. A new dawn. Appropriately symbolic, she mused.
Tate Lockwood said not one word until they arrived at the livery stable. Three men were piling sacks of flour and sugar on top of boxes in the two wagons and strapping them down. Tate dismounted and gestured to them. “Miss Montgomery, meet my hands Curly, Sam and Pancho. They’ll be our traveling companions.”
Was there a hint of mockery in his tone? Well, never mind. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.” Dismounting, she walked to the first wagon to satisfy herself that her belongings and provisions had been loaded and secured.
“Everything meeting your specifications?” Lockwood loomed over her, the brim of his hat pulled low.
“Quite.”
“Tonight we’ll stay at a hotel in Longmont, but once we start on the trail, there’s no turning back.”
“I certainly hope not.”
With a grudging “Good,” he conferred with the men, who climbed into the wagon seats. “Saddle up, miss,” the one named Sam called to her. She noticed that all four men were armed with both rifles and pistols.
They had covered a few miles, Lockwood in the lead and her trailing along behind him ahead of the wagons when, without looking at her, he said, “It’s a rocky and demanding climb to the park.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“I doubt anything you’ve read or been told will have prepared you adequately. Robert tells me you have rented a cabin in Estes Valley sight unseen. I assure you it will lack the amenities to which you’re accustomed.”
While she fumed under his patronizing attitude, they rode for a time in silence until he spoke again. “The mountains are no place for a lone woman such as yourself.”
There was no holding back. “I beg to differ. As I hope you will come to recognize, I am not just any woman. Nor am I bothered by being solitary or lacking creature comforts.”
By way of acknowledgment, Tate merely grunted. Except for pointing out landmarks, he said little until they arrived at the hotel in the late afternoon. “I’ll see to the horses and wagons,” he said after she dismounted. “Get a good night’s sleep. You’ll need it.”
When Sophie inspected her lodging, she quickly realized amenities were, indeed, being left behind. Saddle sore, she ate a bowl of bland stew, noting that there was only one other woman in the company gathered in the public room. Too weary to be sociable, she retired early and, despite her excitement over what the morrow would bring, fell into a deep sleep.
* * *
Tate Lockwood greeted her in the dawn with curt advice. “Bundle up.”
Sophie buttoned her heavy coat, wrapped a woolen scarf around her neck and clapped her weathered felt hat on her head. Before long, they left the flat land and began climbing. She reveled in the piney smell and fresh air. As the canyon narrowed and the trail bordered the river, she watched in wonder as the cascading water from the high peaks, laden with ice and snow runoff, splashed across rocks, creating a thrilling music. At each turn of the trail, a new pleasure awaited—the raucous cry of a mountain jay or the sight of a graceful doe bounding across their path.
When the sun was high overhead, they reached a spot where huge boulders bordered the river. Lockwood signaled a halt. Sophie was glad to dismount, remove her coat and stretch her limbs. The hands lounged on the ground to eat lunch. She settled on a flat rock beneath a spruce tree and pulled out the bit of roast and potato from the dinner at the Hurlburts’. Lockwood hunkered a few feet away, his dark brown eyes intent on her. “Bearing up?”
“I assure you, Mr. Lockwood, that I am managing quite well and that if I require assistance from you or the others, I will not hesitate to ask.”
“Hmm.” He stood and unfolded the oilskin holding his food. “From this point, the ascent is demanding, treacherous in places, especially this early in the season.”
Was he trying to scare her? “I shall follow your expert lead.”
He bit into a piece of meat, chewing thoughtfully, but saying nothing. Sophie found him intriguing—a man comfortable in different worlds, yet guarded, as if he avoided intimacy and rarely exposed his inner thoughts. He was handsome in a chiseled sort of way, and she could see how some women might find him attractive. She wondered about his wife and sons. Perhaps his wife would provide her with some female companionship during her stay in the mountains. From her reading, she understood that there were few women there and that she, as a single woman on
