
Amelia Dane couldn’t remember when the rain had started. Maybe it had been falling since she was a child, a…

The sheriff’s office in Silver Junction, Colorado, smelled like dust, damp wool, and old paper that had been handled too…

The sun had already gone down, yet the heat still clung to the land like a stubborn fever, the kind…

The Dakota Territory had a way of teaching you the difference between silence and peace. Silence was what Elara Vance…

The Wyoming Territory. The wind in the Absaroka Range didn’t merely howl. It argued with the mountain like an old…

Montana Territory, spring, had a way of making people feel temporary. Red Bluff was barely a town, more a stubborn…

Cold Water, Kansas, had a talent for taking a plain fact and dressing it in lace and poison before sundown….

The Silver Lariat Saloon sat where Main Street met Stockyard Lane in the small cattle town of Dry Creek, Wyoming,…

The ledger refused to behave. Lena Winslow stared at the columns of numbers the way a person stared at a…

The summer did not arrive in Kansas so much as it descended, slow and brutal, like a hand pressing the…

The wind didn’t weep for women like Sadi Thorne. It only passed over her skin as if she were a…

Horace Whitaker did not simply marry off his daughter. He disposed of her the way a man flicks ash from…

The Montana mountains didn’t welcome visitors. They tolerated them the way a frozen river tolerated a boot: with patience right…

The Arizona sun had a way of making the world confess. It confessed the truth of dust, for one, turning…

The autumn wind worried the shutters of Henderson Boarding House like it had a grudge to settle. It shoved itself…

The wind that moved through the live oaks of Magnolia Ridge Plantation did not sound like weather. It sounded like…

The stagecoach groaned like an old animal giving up its last breath as it rolled to a stop on Ember…

The woman who ached for home, Lillian Hart, woke on a depot bench to discover her future had already packed…

The storm over Manhattan started long before the rain. It began in small betrayals Madison Hail had trained herself to…

The first thing people noticed was the sound. Not the choir, not the organ, not the soft rustle of silk…