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“You’ve got a visitor.”

It obviously wasn’t Diana, or anyone else I knew, because he’d have said. “On my way.”

I went downstairs, grabbed my hat, and messaged Toby as I walked down the path.

Be right with you.

As I neared the barn, I spotted Teague standing with a young woman who I didn’t recognize. She had long blonde hair, and she wore jeans and a cotton shirt, sunglasses perched on top of her head. She was maybe in her mid-twenties.

I approached her with a smile. “Hi. What can I do for you?”

Teague cleared his throat. “I’ll leave you to it.” He gave her a polite nod before walking toward the barn.

She looked me in the eye. “Are you Robert Thorston?”

“Yes. And you are?”

“My name is Ella… Ella Kirkham.”

I blinked. “Oh.” I couldn’t move. I wasn’t sure I was even breathing.

“I think you knew my father, Clay Kirkham.”

I fought to inhale. “Yes, I did. He used to work on this ranch. I haven’t heard from him in a long time.”Like about thirty years.

She swallowed. “He died last month.”

Jesus. He’d have been about sixty-five. My chest tightened, but I struggled to maintain a calm facade. “I’m so sorry to hear that. But I’m not sure why you’re here. Like I said, I haven’t seen your dad since he left the ranch many years ago.”

“My brother and I were going through his things, and I found this.” She held up an envelope, and I could see my name was written on it, along with the address for Salvation. “I don’t know what’s in it, because I haven’t opened it—it wasn’t addressed to me. But you were obviously important to him.” She tilted her head. “Did you know my dad well?”

“Yes ma’am, I did. I was a lot younger when he worked here, probably about your age.” I held out my hand, and she took it. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” She glanced at the envelope. “I could’ve mailed this, but I’ll admit, I was curious to know what he wanted to say to you after all this time.”

“Where have you traveled from to deliver this?”

“Elk River, Wyoming.”

I stared at her. “You came all this way—to deliver a letter?”

“When did you last see my father?”

I could have told her the exact date. “I was twenty-two years old. So that would make it thirty years ago.”

Her eyes widened. “And you haven’t seen him in all that time? You hadn’t heard from him?”

“No ma’am.” I gazed at the envelope clutched in her hand, and she held it out to me with a show of reluctance.

There was no way I was about to open it and read it in front of her.

“Thank you for bringing this to me.”

She glanced at her surroundings. “So my father was a ranch hand here?”

I nodded. Then I had an idea. I glanced to where Teague stood by the barn door. “Teague, can you come over here a second?”

He walked toward us at a brisk pace.