Chapter 1

Jacob Dunleavy saw his destination as he crested the hilltop.

The farmhouse needed some work and he hoped it would be his salvation.

It had been a long year. He needed a place to take stock. He was only 20 but he felt like he was nearer to death than a 50-year-old. But he had cheated death before. He had, in fact, been running from death for 2 long years.

But not his death.

Jacob put his hat in his hand and walked onto the porch. He took a deep breath and knocked.

Marnie Lambert had been sitting at the table in the parlor when she heard the knock. She hoped it wasn't the sheriff but there was nothing she could do if it was.

She owed money from hither to yon: Five dollars at the livery stable; two dollars at the commissary. And she couldn't forget the gambling debt that Wesley had left behind. His death had not absolved him of what he owed.

In fact, his death had put her into this bind.

"Cards," she groused. "That damned idiot. Not only did he get himself killed but he'll kill me, too."

With a loud sigh, Marnie walked to the door.

Jacob was surprised by the youngish-looking woman who stood in front of him.

Marnie was surprised by the youngish-looking man standing on her porch.

"Mrs. Lambert," Jacob said. "I heard you might need a hand with some things here. A man at the saloon told me."

Marnie laughed aloud.

"I need more help that you can give me, boy," she said.

"Jacob," he corrected. "Jacob Dunleavy. And you might be surprised how much help I can be. I can fix up the roof and help you with the planting. I did some farming back in St. Louis and some carpentry in Independence."

Marnie shook her head dismissively.

"You're a long way from Missouri, boy," she said.

"Jacob, Mrs. Lambert," he said. "Please call me Jacob."

"All right, Jacob," Marnie said with a hint of disdain. "Even if you could help me out with chores, it wouldn't be enough to help me along."

"It would be a start," Jacob offered, "toward helping you get along."

"I couldn't afford to pay you, so you best run along," Marnie rejoined.

"I didn't ask about pay," Jacob said. "We can discuss that when it comes time. You need some help, Mrs. Lambert. Joe at the saloon said you're a good person in a bad way."

Joe Long's wife was Marnie's only friend. Well, at the very least she was the lone friend who hadn't deserted her when Wesley had been caught cheating at poker.

"And you're a missionary," Marnie scoffed.

Jacob shook his head sadly.

"I'm a man with no place to go who needs to make amends for some things I've done," he said.

"You're barely a boy," Marnie said. "You're certainly not someone who is old enough to need amending anything."

"I'm older than I look," Jacob offered. "And I've been on my own for 7 years."

Marnie's eyes narrowed.

"You've been on your own for 7 years?" she asked. "OK, say I believe you. What brings you out west?"

If only you knew, Jacob thought, you wouldn't let me within a hundred miles of you. But he settled on a partial truth.

"I needed to put some distance between me and a bad romance," he told the woman.

Marnie knew all about failed romances. Wesley had seemed like a good man when they met. He had been funny and friendly and she had liked him instantly.

But in the last two years — since they came to Stover — Wesley had become a different man. Marnie had come to realize that Wesley's good manners had been forced upon him by his mother. Once he was outside of her influence, his natural personality brewed to the top.

He became a drinker, a gambler — and a batterer. Marnie shuddered at the memory.

"So you're willing to help me out around here, without pay, until I figure out what I want to do?" she asked.

"I'll work for room and found," Jacob said. "Mrs. Lambert, we can get this place fixed up and get a crop down. I can help you hold off the creditors until you can sell the crop. You might not make much profit this year, but there are some people who will pay for it before it comes in. It'll be less than you can make afterward but it should let you pay down some of what you owe."

Marnie bristled noticeably.

"I owe nothing," she said harshly. "The debts were left to me."

Jacob nodded.

"That doesn't mean you don't have to pay them yourself," he countered. "If worse comes to worst, we'll have the place fixed up well enough to sell so you can have a bride's price for wherever you decide to go."

Marnie's eyes hardened.

"I will never be at the beck and call of another man," she hissed. "You remember that, Mr. Dunleavy. If I let you stay here, you work for me. I don't work for you."

Jacob held up his hands in submission.

"As you wish, Mrs. Lambert," he said. "I'll ask your permission before I do anything short of going to the privy. I reserve the right to decide that for myself."

Marnie wanted to chuckle at the bawdy joke. She enjoyed a good blue remark. Instead she squinted toward the man in front of her.

"The bunkhouse is a mess," she said. "You can clean it up and use it. After my husband's transgression, the hands refused to stay and work for a woman. But they made sure to tear up as much stuff as they could."

Jacob nodded sadly.

"Get it cleaned up and you can stay there for a while," she continued. "You'll start in the morning. You can start on the main house."

Jacob looked around.

"Do you have any stock left?" he asked. "Joe said you've been selling it off piece by piece to pay down some things."

"All of it," Marnie said sadly. "I sold the last horse and heifer last month."

"Do you mind if ask how much you still owe?" Jacob asked.

"I mind greatly," Marnie said with ice in her voice. "You can stay in the bunkhouse and help out or you can go on your way. What you can't do is ask me questions about my life."

Again Jacob held up his hands. But the door had already slammed in his face.

Marnie had to admit that Jacob was a hard worker. He had the house in decent shape in less than a week and he had selected a nice section of land for planting.

He had left for a few days and come back with a note offering to purchase the sight-unseen crop for less than it was worth but more than it would be worth if the sheriff foreclosed before it was reaped.

It would be enough to put a dent in the gambling debt and to have enough to see them through a few months. But it wasn't enough to get her out of the woods.

"It was the best I could do," Jacob told her. "I don't know if it is enough but it's all that's coming."

After two months, Marnie had still been closemouthed about her debts. But, Jacob had done some digging of his own and come up with an approximate number. He knew the number on the paper would only buy time but there was more if he needed it. Mostly he just wanted Marnie to keep faith in herself.

"When does he want to know?" she asked.

"Soon," Jacob answered. "If he doesn't buy yours he'll want to go somewhere else."

It wasn't exactly true. The answer needed to be soon but the buyer would not be doing any other purchases.

Marnie looked toward the ground.

"It won't be enough," she said with tears in her eyes. "It will only stave off the inevitable."

"Then we'll find another way, Mrs. Lambert," Jacob said as he patted her arm. "I made arrangements with the general store. We can get provisions on credit again. I've got the same deal with almost every merchant in town."

Marnie's eyes came upward quickly.

"How in God's name did you manage that?" she asked. "The townfolk have been less than friendly."

Jacob shrugged.

"I can be charming when I try," he answered. "I convinced them it was their Christian duty to help someone whose troubles are no fault of her own."

Marnie laughed aloud. Jacob shrugged again.

"I'll be their indentured servant until the debts are paid if things go belly up here," he added.

Marnie gasped.