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reasons beyond Trent.”
    “And leave all this?” she asked, her eyebrows raised in surprise. “Never. Helena is my home, and a perfect base of operations along the Northern Pacific.”
    Karl cocked one eyebrow and pursed his lips. “It is your decision, obviously. I’m simply saying it’s always wise to diversify.” He turned to go and was at the gate when she called out to him, her tone hesitant.
    “Karl! Tell me … have you heard from my sister or Peder?”
    He gave her a small smile. “Not for years. Peder and I had a parting of the ways. Last I heard, they had built a second home in Seattle. Running lumber from the Washington Territory back east. You should write. I bet Elsa would appreciate hearing from you.”
    Tora sniffed and shrugged her shoulders a bit. “Perhaps. I have heard of things more crazy than that.”
    “Good-bye, Tora.”
    “Karl,” she responded with a stiff nod. He closed the gate behind him and strode down the dusty street, the long dusk of northern nights holding firmly to the light around him. And suddenly, it was as clear as day to him that Tora Anders was only as lost as he was in the world.
    Still feeling listless and at odds the next evening, Trent forced himself to rise from his bed and dress for his dinner with Karl Martensen and Bradford Bresley. He had actually slept through the hot summer afternoon, something he had not done since he was a child. But he had had little choice. The weariness overcame him and sleep came as a blessed relief. Now, drowsy, he buttoned his shirt and tucked it into his trousers as he gazed at his image in the mirror.
    He was not unattractive, he decided, looking at one side of his face and then the other. The years had left him with deepening lines about the mouth and eyes and graying hair, but there was no sign of jowls or a paunch about his waist. He could have had his pick of women in the years since his beloved wife had died. Why had it been Tora Anders who stole his heart?
    He regretted his decision to cut her off from Storm Enterprises—she had done a fine job in setting up the last sixteen roadhouses. But how could he go on loving, let alone working with, a dishonest woman? A woman who would desert her own child? Who knew when her questionable morals would end up affecting his business? No, it was time that Tora Anders was on her own to prove just what she was made of.
    Shaking his head as if to remove thoughts of her, he donned a bowler hat and left the hot room. Downstairs it was cooler, and he greeted Karl and Brad in the lobby. In minutes, they were seated in the hotel dining room, menus in their hands, and shortly thereafter, the waiter came and retrieved their orders.
    “Saw John Hall last week,” Trent said casually, studying Karl carefully. He knew little of what had happened between the men other than that Karl had broken off his engagement to Hall’s daughter, Alicia, and had left John’s employ at the same time. He had long suspected John of unscrupulous business dealings, and had since cut off his own relations with the man.
    “You did?” Karl asked with an upraised brow. “I try not to.”
    “As do I,” Bradford put in.
    “How do you manage?” Trent asked. “This is a big territory, but John Hall is everywhere.”
    “We’ve met up a few times, but I always try to steer clear. I have found that there are some battles worth waging, and others best avoided. Besides, I like to think that time and distance heal many wounds. It’s been four years since I broke my engagement with Alicia, and Hall, apparently, has bigger fish to fry. I think he’d just as soon not see me either.”
    Trent nodded. “I would not want to wage war with Hall—I think you are prudent. But do not ever think that John Hall will forget; he has the memory of an elephant and a dark side once encountered. I’ve met many a man who was broken by him. I’m glad you escaped unharmed.”
    “Yes, sir,” Bradford said. “That’s why I recruited him as