It was inconceivable. Impossible to wrap her head around such a reality. She couldn’t imagine her life without him. She’d be absolutely alone.

In the kitchen, Ellie reached for her old coat on the hook near the back door. Thrusting her arms into the sleeves, she fastened the thick buttons and went outside to get air. It was nearing dusk and just the top of Emigrant Peak glowed gold, catching the last of the day’s rays of light, while the rest of the mountain range, like the valley, was already swathed in lavender shadows.

Outside, she walked in painful circles, from the house to the stables, and then around the barn, and back. Her ankle throbbed and her teeth chattered as she walked, but it was hard to get warm when she was so icy on the inside, chilled by her father’s words. Fate wasn’t fair. Or kind.

She was making another unhappy loop when she spotted the Irishman approaching the barn. His wagon was ready, the sheep already loaded and bleating plaintively in the back.

She lifted her chin and dropped her arms as he neared. “I hope you haven’t worn him out.”

He didn’t immediately answer, his gaze shifting to the wagon and the milling sheep. She could have sworn he was counting them. Did he really think her father would swindle him? How offensive! He knew nothing about the Burnetts then, or honor. “They are all there, and healthy, too,” she said curtly, not bothering to hide her irritation.

Thomas looked at her, expression blank. “He’s beginning to fail.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Is there nothing that can be done?”

“No. Well, maybe, if we had gone to New York, maybe Dr. Coley might have been able to do something, but Papa wouldn’t consider it. He said the trip was too far, and he didn’t feel like being a pincushion.”

“Who is this Dr. Coley?”

“He specializes in bone and soft tissue cancer. He’s very experimental, not everyone approves of his methods, but he might have given my father a chance... as well as given me more time with him.”

Thomas looked doubtful. “Or not. These new doctors kill more patients than they save.”

“But he’s going to die anyway, and if one of these new treatments might have worked... then how could we not try?” She sighed. “If it were up to me, we would have been in New York a year ago.”

“He’s asked me to show you something in town on Sunday, after church.”

“You don’t attend church.”

“I don’t attend St. James.”

And then she understood. Of course. He was Catholic.

She gave him a hard look. “I don’t need anyone to show me anything, here or in town, and, if I needed an escort, it wouldn’t be you.”

“This isn’t my idea, nor is it something I’m eager to do.”

“So why do it?”

“He’s compensating me well. Why else?”

“Of course.” At least he was honest.

Her gaze held his.