“We must leave this town,” Stieg answered.

  A woman passing by with two children looked up abruptly as Stieg spoke. Stieg drew his siblings closer. “Does everyone in this town speak Norwegian?” he said with dismay.

  Hanne could tell from the way Stieg was wincing that he had a headache from using his Nytte.

  “They were just being friendly,” Knut said. “They said they might have work for me. They’re building a bank.”

  “They of all the people in town are most likely to receive newspapers from home. Knut, listen, I must tell you something: All of Norway is in a scandal over the … over what happened, and they suspect you!”

  Hanne watched comprehension dawn over Knut’s face. His eyebrows drew together.

  “They think I did it? But, Stieg—”

  “We must get out of this town and find our uncle,” Stieg said.

  “What will we do?” Sissel wailed.

  “Shall we try for another train?” Hanne asked, even though she hated the idea of being caged up on another car—or running into the man with the pockmarked face at the station.

  “Stieg—” Knut tried to cut in.

  “We will buy horses and gear and a map and set out for Wolf Creek by land,” Stieg said.

  “Brother!” Knut cried. “Do they think I killed Papa, too?”

  Hanne felt a yank in her chest, like someone jerking out her heart. She put her hands on either side of Knut’s face.

  “No, dear brother,” she said. “They do not think that. They think you killed them to avenge his death. Like a knight.”

  She nodded and he nodded slowly, with her.

  “I will not let anything happen to you, Knut. You know it,” Hanne said.

  Knut smiled.

  The men in suits were walking out of the restaurant. “Come,” Stieg said. “We must leave Livingston.”

  They hurried down the street and ducked into a stable called Erlich’s Livery. There were several horses tied out front, and next door there was a blacksmith, a handy combination.

  The stable was large but hastily built, with stalls housing horses, donkeys, and oxen. A boy in an unraveling sweater was currying down a slab-sided sorrel who was tethered to an iron bracket on the wall.

  Voices could be heard coming from the back.

  “I’ve already got a boy, and I can scarcely pay him.”

  “All I ask is room and board, sir, in exchange for the winter’s work,” came a younger voice in response.

  “And I suppose I am to board your horse, too? And your dog?”

  The men belonging to the voices walked through the open doors at the rear of the stable. It was a small, gray-haired man with a potbelly and their very own cowboy from the rails. His dog was right on his heels.

  “I can find work to pay for their board,” Owen said. “But you’ll see the dog is good with animals. She’ll earn her keep, Mr. Erlich.”

  The old man and Owen fell off speaking at once when they saw the Hemstads. Owen seemed as surprised to see them as they were him. His dog came over right away to lick Hanne’s hand again and to sniff around them happily. Sissel drew closer to Knut, in fear of the animal.

  “The answer’s no, boy. Apologies.” Erlich turned to the Hemstads with an oily smile. “Now, what can I do for you young folk? Seems I’m to spend my day waiting on young’uns.”

  “We need to purchase four horses,” Stieg said stiffly.

  “You have money? Not meaning to offend, but well, I don’t have time to waste.”

  “Neither do we,” Stieg said. Hanne could tell Stieg didn’t like or trust this man Erlich, but she was distracted by the cowboy. He seemed terribly embarrassed and was studying the hat he held in his hands.

  “We have plenty of money for livestock,” Stieg said. “We are headed to the north.”

  “This late in the season?” Erlich croaked. “That’s unwise, to say the least.”

  Owen put his hat on and started moving through the Hemstads, aiming for the door. His gray quarter horse was tied out front. Hanne felt she should have recognized the horse.

  “Fall weather turns quick out here. Everyone digging in and holing up. Perhaps you’re not used to a Montana winter, being from…?”

  “Finland,” Stieg lied coolly.

  All through her bath Hanne had thought of the things she should have said to Owen Bennett. Or could have said. But having come upon him asking for work, and being so harshly denied, she felt embarrassed. She could not bring a single phrase to mind.

  “Finland!” Erlich snorted dismissively. “Them European countries don’t get snow, not like we do.”

  “I assure you, we have plenty of it,” Stieg said.

  “He had the right of it, though, about the weather.” The cowboy paused at the door. They all turned to look at him. He seemed shy for a moment, but continued. “It’s no time to be setting out for the north. This is dangerous country. And you don’t know it well. You four could die out there.”

  “We plan on purchasing a good map.”

  “A map will do little to help you if the weather turns, or if you’re attacked by bears or wolves, or if your horses founder in a slough. And you’ve got to cross the Missouri.” Stieg began to protest again, but Owen held up his hands. “I’ve said my piece. You’ll do what you want.”

  He turned and walked out the open doorway. Hanne felt the air go out of her lungs when he was no longer in sight.

  “If you’re determined to go, I have the best horses for it,” Erlich said. “I have horses that are bred to the snow. You don’t have any like ’em in Finland. Look here at this gelding.” Erlich turned to show Stieg a sloped-shouldered chestnut with an ugly sore on his left eyelid.

  Stieg turned abruptly and wheeled out of the stable.

  Hanne, Knut, and Sissel followed.

  “Sir!” Stieg yelled to Owen’s retreating back. “Mr. Bennett!”

  The cowboy stopped and turned his horse. He edged his horse back toward the sidewalk.

  “Would you please consider being our guide?” Stieg said. “We need to get to Wolf Creek, and we need to leave soon.”

  “Wolf Creek? It’s a hundred and fifty miles straight north,” Owen said.

  “We can pay you handsomely,” Stieg said. “For us, it’s a matter of utmost importance.”

  “What’s in Wolf Creek?” Owen asked.

  Hanne felt Stieg search out her gaze. She met her brother’s eyes and shrugged. Stieg exhaled.

  “That’s our business,” Stieg said. “We can pay you very well.”

  “I think you should wait another day and take the train,” Owen told them. “Chances are you won’t meet any more rough characters. And take the first one you can get on. After the first big snow, trains don’t run so often. Snow’ll come any day now.”

  “The train is not an option for us,” Stieg said. Owen began to question him, but Stieg crossed his arms. “My sister Hanne is wary of strangers. She becomes … afraid.”

  Hanne felt a searing blush flood her neck and cheeks. It was a lie, but not so far from the truth.

  Now the cowboy looked at her with what seemed to be pity.

  “Aren’t there roads? Trails?” Stieg asked. “With a map, why couldn’t we find our way?”

  Owen leaned forward in his saddle, toward them.

  “I don’t know what it’s like in Europe, but this country is big. There’s no people, the way you need to go, see?” he explained. “You could ride for days and not run into anyone.”

  Hanne thought about this. There was open country in Norway, but you were always within a day’s journey to a town or village. The country was old, had been explored and charted thousands of years ago.

  “There’s no one there to ask for help if you need it,” Owen said. “I’m sorry.”

  The cowboy turned his horse and trotted away.

  Stieg tried to hide his disappointment and dismay for the sake of his siblings, but Hanne could see he was deeply worried.

  “It’s
all right,” Stieg told them. “We’ll find a way.”

  Hanne felt sorry for Stieg, all of a sudden. He had been set to go on a great adventure to create a new life for himself in America, and now he was in the middle of nowhere, trying to shepherd his strange and broken siblings to the care of an uncle they’d never met.

  “Maybe we can try the train again,” Hanne ventured. “If it’s really as dangerous as Mr. Bennett says to go by land.”

  “No. Like you, I worry about being around people. We’ll find another guide and go by land,” Stieg said. “Come, we will provision ourselves. The sooner we are out of this town, the better.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Owen had drawn a crowd. School had let out for the afternoon, and he had inadvertently chosen the back field of the schoolhouse as a training ground for Daisy.

  He needed to clear his mind, and thought he’d put Daisy through her commands. Nothing cleared the mind like work.

  Those Norwegians were trouble. A blind man could see they were trouble. What kind of trouble? That was the question. Because he was, himself, in trouble enough.

  If he didn’t find work in the next day or so, he’d have to turn tail and head north himself. The thought of returning to the ranch a failure made him sick down to his gut. Though maybe he was just hungry.

  “Away to me,” he yelled to Daisy. She raced away in a counterclockwise circle.

  “Go by,” he yelled as she approached him, and she swerved, running to make a circle in the opposite direction.

  The kids oohed all together. They ranged in age from five to somewhere near sixteen. He didn’t blame them for watching. Daisy was awfully fast. Her muscles rippled under her fur. All playfulness was gone when Daisy was drilling for trail work. She was pure animal.

  Better than animal, in a way, because her keen, sharp mind was being directed. She could work without double-thinking. Unlike himself. His mind kept going to the idea of taking the Hemstads to Wolf Creek, worrying the topic like a child trying to undo a wet knot of shoelaces.

  “Aw, he sure is fast, mister!” a pudgy redheaded boy called. “What’s his name?”

  “Her name’s Daisy,” Owen corrected. As far as Daisy’s training went, it was fine to have an audience. He’d work her through the distractions.

  What if he took them? They’d pay him well, he’d insist on it. He might ask them for twenty-five dollars. And for what, a week’s work? It would see him through the winter until he could get onto a new ranching team.

  Owen sent Daisy far into the field and called her back fast, then he sent her out again and called her back slow. He had her “walk up,” walk to him in a straight line, from seven or eight directions.

  They should not risk it on their own. They might encounter animals on the way. Bears, mountain lions. There could be an avalanche. There could be a blizzard. Owen took off his hat and wiped down his brow. Maybe it was better not to imagine all the things that could go wrong.

  He thought about the Hemstads. The large, muscular one, Knut, was somewhat dull in the head, but seemed the sweet type of simpleton. The only risk he posed was that he might lame a horse under his vast bulk. And the younger girl seemed fairly docile. Afraid of dogs, but Daisy might well cure her of that.

  He sent Daisy far, at top speed.

  Owen rather liked the older boy, Stieg. He was smart—Owen could get that from his command of English—and he was playful, too. He was probably just around Owen’s age, couldn’t have been more than twenty.

  Owen called Daisy back at a walk.

  If he took them, he could winter in Wolf Creek. It was a small, rough town. There was gold nearby, or rumors of gold, and some failed forty-niners had set up there. Even if work was scarce, he could use his twenty-five-dollar stake to rent a room in a boardinghouse and sit out the winter.

  Owen called to Daisy to lie down, and she did, dropping neatly on her belly, her tongue lolling. It had been a long day, and she was getting tired. He let her rest for a moment as his mind turned to the very thing he’d been trying not to think about—the girl Hanne.

  Girls had been in short supply on the ranch. But Owen’s father had bought a pretty little surrey for the use of his sons, once they began turning eighteen in rapid order. The surrey was lacquered wood with red leather seats, and built snugly for two. The Bennett brothers called it, laughingly, the “courting carriage” and fought about who got to use it, and when.

  Once Harvey and Matthew had fallen to blows over a girl named Lizzie Volpe. She had bright green eyes, a lilting laugh, and a tiny waist, maybe the width of a man’s hand from pinky to thumb. She fainted frequently at the barn dances that were held from time to time. What was special about being so frail you couldn’t handle a jig or two?

  Owen hadn’t understood why his brothers vied for Lizzie Volpe’s attention. They fought over her even when she wasn’t around. It was an attraction that Owen hadn’t grasped. Well, he was beginning to grasp it now.

  Hanne was dirty and tired. She didn’t smell too good. None of them did. But he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He kept seeing her face. The wisps of her hair that had come free from their braids and the way they’d played around her face in the breeze. How hopeful she looked when Stieg had asked Owen to be their guide, and how crestfallen she looked when he had turned them down.

  What had really happened on the train? What could have happened to cause them to take the risk of traveling over land instead of by rail?

  Someone on the train had frightened her enough for her to make her whole family jump off. Maybe some rough man; that could be. But he wondered if maybe it was someone they knew. They might have relations who didn’t want them to connect with their uncle. Could that be? Maybe someone wanted to break the four of them up and they were determined to stick together. So they were going to their uncle for help.

  Owen rubbed his eyes. These Hemstads were a dilemma.

  The thing about them was that although they were in trouble for sure, they seemed like good people. Good people who needed some help.

  How could he refuse to help them, especially when it was in his benefit to do so? He wasn’t scared of a blizzard. Or a bear, for that matter.

  There was a cough from behind him and Owen realized the children were still watching, and Daisy was out in the field, waiting for a command.

  “Come fast!” he called, and Daisy was up and racing in a quarter heartbeat.

  Going full out, she almost seemed to fly.

  “To me!” Owen shouted, and Daisy did her spectacular leap landing, coming to skid in the dirt at his feet.

  A cheer went up from the kids. Owen had made up his mind.

  * * *

  THE HEMSTADS ENTERED the dry goods emporium in a glum mood. The store was cheerful enough, with shelves full of bolts of cloth and glass counters displaying all manner of yarn, ribbon, and buttons, as well as knitting and sewing materials. Best of all, at the back of the store, near a curtained-off area for trying clothes on, were ready-made garments for men and ladies both.

  That was a relief. With all that faced them, Hanne had been dreading what she should do if they could not purchase clothes ready-made.

  The proprietress was a squat, pleasant woman who held a few pins in the corner of her mouth as she showed the girls her wares. There were white cotton blouses in several different sizes, all cut voluminously, as seemed to be the fashion, with dainty buttons at the necks and wrists. There were also fine full skirts of wool gabardine. In a small room off behind the counter, a girl Hanne’s age with nut-colored hair and a pretty blue calico dress was hemming a skirt on a sewing machine. Hanne examined the fine, even stitching on the skirts as Stieg spoke to the proprietress.

  “I wonder,” Stieg said. “Might you know any men who would be willing to act as our guide? We need to head north.”

  “North?” she asked, her eyebrows expressing her opinion before she gave voice to it. “No time to travel now. It’s blizzard season.”

  The bell at the door jan
gled as several new customers entered.

  “Yes, yes,” Stieg said, sighing as he thumbed through the limited selection of winter coats. “So we hear.”

  “You might try at the saloon if you’re looking for a guide,” said the proprietress. “Though I’d hardly call the men at the saloon the best sort.”

  It was then that Hanne saw Owen Bennett. He was standing near Stieg, having come in unnoticed by them all.

  “A good horse is going to cost nigh on forty dollars,” the cowboy said. Stieg spun around to face him. “Then there’s saddles. Bridles. Grub and bedrolls. Do you have enough money to get good gear? I mean really good gear?”

  A grin broke over Stieg’s face.

  “Yes,” Stieg said. “We have good money. We can buy whatever you think we will need.”

  The proprietress shook her head and went to tend to the other customers.

  “What would be your fee?” Stieg asked. “How about fifty American dollars?”

  The cowboy’s face broke into a grin as big as the one Stieg wore. “I’d settle for forty.”

  “Let’s make it fifty, and you make sure we all arrive in one piece.”

  “I can’t guarantee it, but I’ll do my best.” Owen shook Stieg’s hand.

  “Mr. Bennett, thank you,” Hanne said. She reached out and touched him on the arm. She’d not been able to stop herself from doing it.

  Owen looked away and thought for a moment.

  “I liked the look of the stock down at McCallister’s Livery better than the ones at Erlich’s. We’ll take tomorrow to gear up—”

  “No, no, Mr. Bennett,” Stieg said.

  “Please, call me Owen—”

  “We need to leave as soon as we can. Tonight, if possible,” Stieg said.

  Owen thought about this for a moment.

  “Look,” he said. “If I’m gonna take you, you’re going to have to do as I say. There can only be one trail boss.”

  Stieg began to speak, but Owen held up his hand.

  “Get a good night’s sleep tonight. In the morning, we’ll meet at the Loveland General Stores.

  “In the meantime, you can see to your personal effects. You’ll all need good, thick coats. Mittens. Thick mufflers. Wool under … undergarments.” He colored a bit mentioning the unmentionables. “I’ll go look at horses now, and we’ll be off by midday tomorrow.”