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D eliver those letters or you’re fired.

Rebekah hadn’t been able to sleep and had left town before dawn.

She’d convinced the doctor to let her ride with him in his wagon after overhearing the day before that he’d be going to check on Mr. Billings.

He’d dropped her at the Boutwell place, where she’d waited until he was out of sight before saddling Mabel.

Mr. Sullivan’s words rang in her ears as she rode Mabel up the lane leading to the McGraw place.

The leather reins stuck to her clammy hands.

The bundle of letters was tucked away in the saddlebag, along with the letter of apology she’d written to Isaac for having withheld them.

Her stomach flipped in all directions at the thought of turning them over.

“Giddyup.” She urged Mabel forward.

She took in the yard of the McGraw homestead as her thoughts ran rampant. This could become her home. Her stomach twisted.

The children were running off in the direction of the creek, not even taking notice of her approach. Two figures on horseback rode in from the field, but they were too distant to make out much about them. She strained to make them out. Not Isaac. She’d know his posture anywhere.

Rebekah rode toward the lone McGraw working in the yard. Ed. Her heart pounded.

She pulled up on the reins to halt Mabel a few feet from where Ed pushed a wheelbarrow of dirt, sweat leaving his dusty shirt clinging to him.

He settled the wheelbarrow next to the old well. When he lifted his face, she caught a glimpse of his expression from beneath the brim of his worn hat. A sort of curiousness mixed with anticipation.

As she dismounted Mabel, she let the reins drop to the ground. Her legs felt unsteady from her nerves as she landed on the ground not ten feet from where he’d been shoveling dirt into the old well.

“Afternoon.” He lifted his hand, brushing away the trickle from his forehead with the back of it.

With him standing there, the budding friendship between them having grown so precious to her, she couldn’t even choke out a greeting. Ed’s expression morphed in the silence. A sort of shadow falling over the eyes that had been so warm only minutes before.

Every part of her insides trembled at what she had to do.

Asking Ed to give these letters to Isaac loomed ten times harder than rehearsing it in her head as she’d ridden out here.

But the upright, impartial journalist she’d come to envision herself as had to do this.

For her job. For her family. For herself.

Her hand shook as she reached for the saddlebag, barely able to lift the flap.

The letters must be delivered to Isaac. She had to tell him. Had to right this.

“You’re filling in the well alone?” The letters slid easily from the saddlebag into her hand.

He sent her a sharp look, then went back to shoveling.

“How is everyone feeling?”

Ed’s shovel raked through the dirt. A bird fluttered in the nearest tree. A light thump filled the air as the dirt hit the bottom of the hole. Lightning offered a nicker from the corral.

He kept his head down. “Better.”

“Has Isaac come off the mountain yet?” The letters weighed heavily in her hand as a flutter raced in her chest.

A soft snort escaped from him as he dug the shovel in again. “No.”

A little niggle of unease twisted inside her. How had Isaac’s letters been delivered to town if he was always away from the main house? And from his family? She knew how important the summer grazing was for the cattle. Every rancher around did.

When she saw him next, she’d find out how he’d managed it.

“Can we talk? Can you stop working for a few minutes, please?” Why was Ed making this so much harder on her?

Ed dug the shovel into the dirt, leaving it standing there. He turned to face her. The intensity of his stare further unnerved her. His expression reminded her of the old Ed. How she longed to see the man she’d befriended.

“If I can’t deliver these to Isaac, then…can I give them to you?” She thrust the bundle of ten letters toward Ed.

With one hand, he worked to pull off one of his gloves, then reached out to take the bundle. Questioning eyes met hers as he shifted.

“Those letters. They were addressed to the box you rented. Isaac’s box.” The words came out in stammers.

“All of these came today?” He knit his brows together in confusion.

She ran her hands across the front of her skirt, smoothing it even as she stood there, trying to force the words out of her mouth. “I held them back for reasons of my own. Selfish ones. I’ve explained it all in a letter to him. There on top.”

Ed ducked his head. Why didn’t he say anything? His jaw worked instead. He darted his eyes back to her again. “You’ve been writing to him?”

His mouth was set in a grim line, just like whenever he’d glanced at her back in their school days. He didn’t look surprised. He must’ve guessed.

When Rebekah nodded, Ed went back to staring at his boots.

“I know you’re not Isaac’s keeper”—to her horror, she began to ramble—“but the last few times I’ve been out to the ranch, I haven’t seen him. It’s important that he gets those. Will you give them to Isaac? I’d consider it a favor to me.”

His eyes lifted to scan the fields. A muscle in his jaw ticked.

She’d proposed marriage to Isaac in the letter she’d written him—the letter that Ed was now holding in that bundle.

The absurd thought intruded. How could she face this tension between them at a supper where the McGraw family gathered?

She couldn’t bear it now, much less in a hazy, imagined future.

She gathered her skirt in one hand. “Will you tell Isaac that I’m sorry?” Her words tumbled out in a rush.

His nostrils flared. “You should tell him yourself.”

Her nose burned with the threat of tears. “I can’t stay.”

Silence threatened again, and she couldn’t bear it. She spun on her heel to mount up Mabel. Rebekah gathered the reins in her hands and turned Mabel back toward the road. The catch in her heart meant tears any moment.

A glance back revealed Ed near the well, his shoulders slumped and head down. Why hadn’t he been angry with her for the deception? She’d sensed he was holding himself back, as if there were walls between them. But no anger.

Her tears were no longer willing to be held back. She prodded Mabel forward at a quick canter.

Moisture dripped down her cheeks and fell, even as she tried to make sense of her emotions. Why was she crying? She’d proposed to Isaac. If he felt as passionate about her as he’d written in his letters, soon she’d have everything she’d dreamed of.

But Ed’s reaction had shaken her.

The vision of him, standing near the well with his head down, pinged sharply in her chest. His old way of scolding her would have been more welcome than the distance he’d put between them.

All the moments of that day together caring for the family flashed through her mind, along with the endless rides to town.

He’d become a friend. Maybe her closest friend.

And now she’d admitted to deceiving him and his family.

Of course things couldn’t stay the same.

She’d made her choice. Nothing left to do but wait to see what Isaac decided.

* * *

“It’s time to settle this.” Ed’s thoughts spilled out. He stashed the letters Rebekah had written to Isaac in his saddlebag. In a fit of frustration, he’d hidden those other letters Rebekah had brought for Isaac in a drawer at Drew’s house, at least until he figured out what to do with them.

Lightning nickered as Ed swung into the saddle, as impatient to get going as his rider.

Giving Lightning his head, Ed clung to the reins.

His horse must have sensed his mood. They rode hard toward the mountain area where Isaac hid out in that old unfinished cabin.

Along the path leading to the shelter, he watched for signs of his brother’s presence.

Isaac didn’t always stay put. In fact, he seldom did anymore, but Ed aimed to find him today.

The sun on his back should have warmed him, but he shuddered as he passed a clearing in the woods.

A rabbit skin hung to dry. Apparently, Isaac had time for hunting while avoiding all the chores back home.

Lightning bobbed his head, sidestepping as Ed clenched his jaw.

He fought to slacken his tight grip on the reins as he rode in the direction of Isaac’s cabin.

The roof was missing some shingles that still hadn’t been replaced.

Shadows from the trees cast a dismal gray over the place.

The door stood open, revealing the emptiness inside.

The rough wooden exterior needed more chinking to fill the holes where light came through the logs.

Why did his brother choose to live here?

Isaac had been here all right, but when? Not too long ago, if he judged right from the smoldering firepit, even if Ed was no scout like his brother. If Isaac got it in his head not to be found, he’d cover his tracks. But this fire hadn’t been stomped out.

As he approached, he thought he caught sight of a figure in the woods behind the structure. A twig snapped. This was no time for games.

“Isaac! Come out now!” he bellowed. If only the effort would release a bit of his tension, but it wound it tighter. A branch cracked behind him. He spun Lightning around.

A moment’s silence filled the space—all but the call of a distant bird.

“What do you want?” The deep rumble of Isaac’s answer came from beside the cabin. He hadn’t been there a minute before. Water dripped from his hair, and his face shone from a scrubbing, as if he’d been down to the creek. His figure appeared gaunt, eyes empty.

Isaac moved easily. His calm demeanor added oil to the fire inside Ed. Isaac’d been holed up here while Ed had given all he had to help keep the homestead going. This was the man Rebekah wanted? The man Ed had given her hope of winning with all those letters he’d written her?

His letters.