Hayes Cooper and Judd Weaver saddled their horses and steeled themselves against the stiff wind that had blown the storm through the night before. After much reason, and most of it Cooper's, they decided to ride west to see if they could find where the little girl had come from.

Cooper couldn't recall any families living out in the prairie that had a little blond-haired girl around five or six years old. He reasoned that perhaps her family was living at Fort Concho and she had wandered off.

"But Fort Concho is easily twenty-five miles from here, Cooper," Weaver pointed out. "There is no way a child that small could have made a trip that far on her own."

"Maybe her family was on their way to the fort and something happened," Cooper countered. "All I know is that there are no families I know of with little girls out on the prairie. Her family could have the Army looking for her. We'll ride out that way and see. If we see any soldiers, we'll give them the word that the little girl is in town and she's safe. If we don't find anything, we'll look in another direction."

"Seems like a whole lot of riding around on the prairie in the cold if you ask me," Weaver groused.

"Maybe," Cooper replied gruffly, "but little girls just don't appear in town on the coldest night of the year out of nowhere."

The sheriff and deputy rode in silence for several miles. The tall prairie grass around them was bent and bowed by the previous night's snow and everything was dusted in the white powder that blew around them, stinging their eyes and faces. The usual landscape of what seemed like an unending sea of tall green and gold grasses felt even more desolate under the thin blanket of white with the wind's constant cry the only sound to be heard.

Weaver squinted hard to try to keep the blowing snow out of his ice-blue eyes. The wind and cold were making his eyes burn and water and it was getting hard to see where he was going. He was just about to mention how thankful he was that his horse had better eyesight in the miserable weather than he did when a hazy gray mist several hundred yards ahead broke landscape's monotone white. Weaver squinted harder, trying to be sure he was seeing what he thought he was seeing.

"Cooper, do you see that?" he called over the wind, "Out there, that gray. Is that smoke?"

Cooper raised his hand to shield his eyes from the wind and stared the direction Weaver was pointing. Just the barest mist of gray curled into the sky and then disappeared, blown away by the persistent wind.

"Could be," Cooper called back, spurring his horse and bowing his head as his horse broke into a run. "Let's go take a look!" His words were carried away by the wind, but Weaver was right behind him, racing toward the faint gray plumes far across the prairie.


"I need three yards of the dark green calico, please. No, the darker. Yes, that one," Althea Cooper turned her attention back to her friend Lily Weaver as they walked through the general store, looking at the displays. Althea was picking out fabric to make Jane a new dress and bonnet for Christmas. Jane toddled along beside her, holding her mother's hand and looking around in awe at all the wonderful things the store had to offer.

"What else did he say?" she asked.

"Well, not much, other than the poor little thing's fingers and toes were all frostbitten and she had a terrible cough. And they don't think she can talk, either," Lily replied, filling Althea in on what her husband had told her about the little girl who had mysteriously shown up outside the Red Ox saloon the night before.

"Oh, how awful!" Althea raised her hand to her mouth in reflex. "Just the calico, that ribbon, and these buttons, please. That'll be all today."

"We could always pop in on Lucie and ask how she's doing," Lily said, a slow smile crossing her face as she eyed a display of jars full of candy. She produced a nickel from the drawstring sateen bag hanging from her wrist and watched as the storekeeper filled a small paper sack with a variety of the sweet treats. Althea gave her a questioning look.

"Have you ever known a child who didn't like candy?" Lily laughed. "And if she doesn't, I know Lucie does!"


"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Cooper reined his horse to a stop just short of a makeshift campsite that consisted of nothing more than a campfire and a covered wagon. A team of mules stood off to the side, nosing their way through the dusting of snow to find some sweetgrass to eat. Weaver pulled his horse up to a stop just behind him.

"Doesn't look like there's anyone around," he mused as he dismounted and followed Cooper to the wagon.

The wagon itself had seen better days. The cloth canopy was tattered in spots where it was stretched over the wagon's bows. Close to the wagon, a campfire was smoldering. Weaver walked over to it and poked at it with the toe of his boot. The remains of what looked to be a rocking chair crumbled into the red coals that briefly flamed to life in the wind. A broken trunk lay next to the fire, part of its lid charred.

"Bad day for a campfire," Weaver muttered, attempting to kick snow over the smoldering remains and stomping out the few red coals that were struggling to flame to life in the gusty wind. At the very edge of the pile of ash and coals, the pages of a book fluttered open in the stiff breeze. The rustling noise they made caught Weaver's attention and he bent to retrieve the book from the edge of the ashes.

"Cooper, look at this. They tried burning their Bible."

Cooper had climbed up onto the seat of the wagon and peered inside. A man and woman were huddled under blankets. The woman shivered in her sleep, clutching a baby no more than a few months old. Cooper could see that the baby was dead, its lips blue and its breathing stilled; long baby lashes curled onto its waxy-pale cheeks. The man looked up at Cooper, his eyes dull, a sheen of sweat over his face.

"Help," he rasped in a voice so weak that Cooper could barely hear him over his own breathing. "Help us, please."

"Weaver? Weaver! Come here!" Cooper called into the wind.

Weaver appeared around the side of the wagon, still holding the charred Bible. "Looks like they were burning their belongings to stay warm. I don't understand it. The team looks okay and the wagon doesn't seem to be broke down –"

"They're sick," Cooper said matter-of-factly. "We need to get them into town to the doc."

"Doc's probably not back in town yet. He was over at the Early place last night waiting for Will Early's wife to deliver her baby," Weaver reminded his boss.

Cooper let out an irritated sigh. "I'll get the wagon back to town. You ride over to the Earlys' and tell Doc we have trouble waiting on him when he gets back. Hopefully by now Ruth's had that baby. But tell Doc he's got to get to town."


Lucie answered the knock at Doctor Amos' door and was surprised to see Lily and Althea waiting on the doorstep.

"Good morning Miss Althea, Boss Lady!" Lucie greeted the two women warmly and invited them in to Doc Amos' office. "Doc's not here if you're wanting to see him. I 'spect he'll be back soon, though."

"Oh, no, Lucie," Lily interrupted. "We heard you had a guest and just stopped to see how she was doing. I brought her something." Lily held up the paper sack of candy.

"Oh, yes," Lucie smiled. "The wee child. She's in here. She was sleeping, but that cough! Dear heavens, it's awful. It's a wonder the poor baby got any rest last night."

Lily and Althea peeked into the room where the little girl lay under a pile of quilts, her eyes closed, long lashes fanned over flushed cheeks.

"Such a tiny little thing," Althea whispered. "Wonder where she came from?"

"I wish I knew," Lucie replied. "Her ma and pa must be missing her. But when Judd asked where she came from, she just pointed out the window toward the prairie. That's an awfully big and lonely place to be from when you're just a tiny little lamb." Lucie's voice was wistful.

"Has she said anything at all? Judd said he didn't think she could talk," Lily asked.

"Not a single word," Lucie replied sadly. "Makes it all the sadder, doesn't it? A little lost child who can't even say who she is or where she came from."

Lily thought about how terribly sad it was, indeed, and was suddenly overcome by emotion. Tears filled her deep brown eyes and before she could stop it, a loud sob escaped her. She dug frantically in her reticule for her handkerchief and dabbed roughly at her eyes before giving in to the sudden rush of tears. Jane looked up from the stack of books piled next to Doc Amos's desk that had caught her attention and let out a loud cry in sympathy.

"Oh, Lily! My goodness, what's wrong?" Althea asked as she and Lucie both wrapped arms around their friend in an attempt to console her.

"It's all… It's just… Just so, so sad…The poor little thing," Lily managed to choke out between sobs. "I just… can't…can't bear the thought." Lily dissolved into tears as her friends exchanged puzzled looks.

"Lily, it's all right! She'll be right as rain before you know it," Lucie soothed, confused by her normally unshakable friend's sudden tearful outburst.

"But the thought of her all alone," Lily began, setting off a new wave of tears.

"Cooper and Judd are looking for her ma and pa right now," Althea reassured her as she gathered Jane and readjusted the child's bonnet in preparation to leave. "She must have just wandered away from them and got lost in the dark last night. They'll find her folks and get her back to them in no time. Come on, now, Lily. How about we get back home and get you a cup of tea. It's about time for Jane's nap anyhow."

Lily nodded, suddenly embarrassed over her sudden tearful outburst. She dried her eyes and dabbed at her nose. "You'll let us know how she's doing, won't you?" she asked Lucie, not really sure why it was so important to her to know.

"Of course I will, Boss Lady, but I can tell you this little girl will be just fine once we get her back home."


"You just bring them right in here," Doc Amos ordered, ushering Cooper and Weaver into his office with the man and woman they found in the covered wagon on the prairie and motioning them to two empty beds.

"Lucie, get some water, we need to get their fevers down," the gray-haired and bespectacled doctor barked and Lucie moved quickly around the room, turning down bed linens and grabbing a pitcher to retrieve water from the pump just outside the back door.

Doc Amos looked into the bed of the covered wagon and saw the lifeless form of an infant wrapped in a quilt. He clucked to himself and motioned to Weaver.

"Get the baby over to the undertaker. Wish we had a name, but this is the best we can do for now."

The doctor stopped just outside the door of the room where the little girl lay, her tiny figure dwarfed by the huge bed.

"Is this the child they found last night?" the doctor asked.

Lucie nodded in confirmation as she returned with a pitcher of water. Doc Amos stepped into the room and placed a hand on the child's forehead to feel for a fever. The child coughed in response, a deep, hard cough that sounded to the wise old doctor like it should hurt. He tucked his stethoscope into his ears and raised the opposite end to listen to the child's chest. Upon seeing the strange new contraption, the child shied away, burrowing deeper under the quilts that covered her.

"This won't hurt a bit," Doc Amos reassured. "This will let me listen to your heart and lungs." He removed the stethoscope from his ears and held it out to the child. "Here, do you want to take a listen?"

The child looked at him and the strange but interesting object in his hands and shyly nodded. The doctor placed the stethoscope in her ears and held the bell over her chest. A slow smile replaced the puzzled look on the tiny girl's face.

"That's your heartbeat," the doctor explained. He then held the bell over his own chest. "And this is my heartbeat. Now what do you think of that?" The child's face lit up with a big smile.

"Now, can I have a listen?" Doc Amos asked, taking back the stethoscope and listening to the child's heart and lungs for himself. "Hmmm," he mused. "Yep, yep. Oh, no. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone of your heart's desires. That's our little secret!" He laughed as the little girl smiled again. He noted that her heartbeat sounded strong and her lungs seemed clear and that the cough she had seemed to have been a product of her long night out in the cold air. He tucked the quilts around her.

"I think you'll be just fine in no time, sweetheart. You just keep listening to Miss Lucie and we'll have you back home before you know it. Just in time for Old Saint Nick to pay you a visit!"