Then someone whistled.
“Well, would you look at that!”
Laughter erupted near the saloon.
A man in an expensive wool coat leaned against a porch railing, smiling broadly.
“Boys, I believe Montgomery's new bride has arrived!”
More laughter.
A younger cowboy called out, “Hope the Iron Wolf built himself a bigger doorway!”
Someone else shouted, “She'll eat his winter supplies before Christmas!”
Lara stopped walking.
Her smile faded.
A cold sensation settled beneath her ribs.
She looked from face to face.
No one approached to greet her.
No one offered to carry her luggage.
A woman standing outside the mercantile covered her mouth, but Lara could see the amusement in her eyes.
Two teenage boys began imitating an exaggerated heavy walk.
Lara tightened her grip on the carpetbag.
She had been laughed at before.
But this was different.
These people had been expecting her.
They had gathered specifically to witness her humiliation.
The man on the saloon porch raised his voice again.
“Come on out, Montgomery! Your lady has traveled a mighty long way!”
A wagon stopped near the depot.
A tall man climbed down.
He was broad-shouldered, with long dark-brown hair, a weathered face, and a short beard touched with frost. A pale scar ran near his right temple. His heavy leather coat had a thick shearling collar, and his gloves looked old but well cared for.
He moved with the deliberate confidence of someone accustomed to difficult country.
When he turned toward the crowd, several men stopped laughing.
Lara watched him approach.
She knew his identity before he spoke.
“Miss Higgins?”
His voice was low and rough.
“Yes.”
“I’m Elias Montgomery.”
For one fragile second, she smiled.
“Mr. Montgomery. I'm so pleased to finally—”
He looked at the papers in her hand.
“May I see those?”
She hesitated.
Then offered him the letters.
He read the first page.
His expression tightened.
He read the second.
Then the third.
By the time he finished, his jaw was clenched.
“Where did you get these?”
“My brother arranged everything.”
“Your brother?”
“Yes. He said you'd been corresponding through a marriage agent.”
Elias looked toward the saloon.
The wealthy cattleman on the porch was grinning.
Caleb Ryland.
His oldest enemy.
The man who had spent five years attempting to acquire Whispering Pines Ranch.
Elias looked back at Lara.
“Miss Higgins, this isn't my signature.”
She blinked.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I never wrote these letters.”