Chapters will post every other Tuesday, alternating with Man of Omerta. I've got a bit of a bank built up, and time to add to it, so no worries for a while. This was my contribution for the Australian Fire compilation and I'm now free to post. Thanks to everyone who donated and participated
I've been wanting to write a western fic for a long time, and it took awhile to find a story to tell that I could connect with. Westerns were a genre my grandma loved, and we'd sit and watch them on weekends. This is a romance I think she would have enjoyed. And I've taken the train journey from North Carolina to New York, and from New York to Denver, so I've rattled on the same rails as these characters did.
This story is a work of fiction, while I did a great deal of research and consulted my friend and this story's beta Brie, who not only lives on a farm but is married to a man whose family has been farming "since dirt was new," there will always be things that need to be made up for the sake of the story.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
EPOV
Prologue
My mother was a firm believer in providence and destiny. She used to preach it to me whenever I questioned the things we'd lived through. And we'd lived through plenty.
My father had passed in the winter before my eighth birthday and by the summer after my ninth, my mother had remarried and was now Mrs. John Hale.
Joining the Hale household gave me a pair of siblings in Jasper and Rosalie who were three years my senior. We were thick as thieves and it warmed my mother's heart to see the three of us together but my stepfather didn't see it that way.
When the good Lord took my mother on my sixteenth birthday, I knew my life would never be the same. My stepfather would be happy when I turned eighteen and he could send me packing with the money I'd inherited from my father, money he hadn't been able to get a hold of. A few scant weeks before my eighteenth birthday, Rosalie vanished. My stepfather was hotter than Hades as he'd been hoping to marry her off to Royce King, but her runner ruined those chances.
I told my stepfather I would go after her, once we'd discovered she'd bought passage for herself and her friend Vera on the railroad to Denver, Colorado, and he was happy to see me gone.
On June 22nd, 1878, I set out to bring my sister and her companion home, but I was more than a little late upon my arrival. The letter I sent my stepfather informing him of this fact was answered with a dozen crates shipped west on the same train that had delivered both Rosalie and I to Denver. The cost of their shipment was all we would ever see from him, as we were both disowned.
Rosalie's new husband comforted her, and her new in-laws, Dr. and Mrs. Cullen, took me in until I found my footing. Thankfully, there were plenty of farms and cattle ranches in need of hands and as we settled into the town of Littleton, Colorado, fate stepped in to guide my hand.
And just like it did that day all those years ago, providence and destiny led another wayward soul out west and smack dab in the middle of my life.