Elias looked toward the ribbon.
He told her what happened after the supply party carried him away. The physician saved his leg, but the injury required months of recovery. By the time he was able to travel, the station at Alder Pass had closed, Loretta's aunt had moved, and nobody seemed to know where the young woman had gone.
He had only her first name.
And a ribbon.
For years, he'd asked freight drivers, traders, and mountain families whether they knew a woman named Loretta who had worked at Alder Pass.
Sometimes he heard stories about a cook.
Sometimes about a housekeeper.
Sometimes the descriptions led nowhere.
He followed several false trails, traveling through towns that no longer existed or visiting stations where the workers had never heard her name.
Eventually, life pulled him deeper into the mountains.
He worked as a hunter, guide, and occasional timber hauler, surviving in places where few men willingly spent the winter. He never devoted every day to searching, but he never stopped asking whenever a new route brought him near people who might remember the old station.
Then, three weeks earlier, a supply driver mentioned Red Dog.
He spoke about a cookhouse run by an unusually talented woman named Loretta.
The driver said she was a very large woman with brown hair, a warm voice, and a habit of feeding hungry travelers even when they couldn't pay.
Elias had gone still.
He asked where she'd worked before arriving at the mining camp.
The driver didn't know.
But he'd heard her mention Alder Pass.
Elias set out the following morning.
He traveled across snowy ridges, hunted along the way, and reached Red Dog with an elk quarter he intended to trade for lodging.
"I didn't know for certain it was you," he admitted. "Not until you looked at me."
Loretta stared at him.
"After twelve years?"
He nodded.
"I remembered your eyes."
She laughed shakily.
"That's not much to remember."
Elias smiled.
"It was enough."
Loretta lowered her head.
For years, people had looked at her body and decided what kind of woman she must be.
Now a man who hadn't seen her in twelve winters was telling her he remembered her kindness.
The contrast was almost unbearable.
She began crying.
Elias looked alarmed.
"Did I say something wrong?"
Loretta shook her head quickly.
"No."
She tried to wipe her eyes.
Then laughed through her tears.
"I'm sorry. I just don't know what to say."