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territory haven’t received letters from the East in a year or more.”
    “We’ve had letters lost, as well, but I’ve still received one nearly every month.” Jess gazed at the trail ahead. “I’ll have to try wiring the doctor from another town.”
    “And if that fails?”
    Jess glanced over somberly. “If that fails, I’ll take the first stage east and track him down myself.”
    Jake considered that. “Shouldn’t your pa be trying to find him?”
    “Yes, he should, only my father has disowned Ambrose as a traitor—to his family, as well as to his country—even though Ambrose enlisted only to defend our home near Lexington. Ambrose finds slavery as cold-blooded as my father and I do.” She shifted in her saddle, battling feelings of resentment toward their father. “In truth, my father’s done it to protect my mother. You saw how frail she was when you came to dinner months ago. She lost a son, Broderick, when he was only a baby. She never really recovered, and now she’s terrified she’ll lose Ambrose. My father doesn’t believe Ambrose will survive the war. He behaves as though he is dead already so that, if the worst happens, it won’t destroy my mother. At least that’s what makes sense to him.” A glance at Jake told her he was listening. “He’s forbidden me to even write to him.”
    “That hasn’t stopped you,” he observed.
    “It hasn’t,” she agreed. “Nor will it. I keep his letters hidden and respond to them in secrecy.” She asked, “Do you know Edmund Van Dorn? He and my father co-own the import business.”
    “Sure, I’ve met Edmund.”
    “When Ambrose’s letters arrive, Edmund slips them to me with the mail, or he leaves them in an office safe that only he and I use.”
    “And he and your father are friends,” Jake said. “A tough situation all around.”
    “They’re the best of friends, and have been all their lives. Edmund is all heart. He’s loyal to my father, but he also sees what’s happening to my mother.” Though Bennett was little more than a stranger, he was a man who listened, and Jess was relieved to talk to him. “We have a new baby sister whom Ambrose has never seen. He writes how he longs to meet her when the war is over. I have to write to Ambrose. And Edmund…Edmund does what he thinks is best for each of us.”
    Jake said, “I have a friend, Tom Rawlins. He’s a captain over at Fort Churchill. I plan to see him tomorrow to talk him into buying some of my horses. There’s a telegraph office at the fort. I’ll ask him to do what he can to find your brother.”
    Jess stopped her horse, sudden dampness pricking her eyes. “He’ll do this?”
    “Search for a Confederate soldier? No, but if he were to search for news of his missing cousin,” he grinned a little, “now that’s a different matter. As long as Tom wires only the North—hospitals and prisons and such—he shouldn’t raise too many eyebrows.”
    Jess wasn’t sure whether to shout or cry with joy. The urge to do both swelled to what felt like a fist-sized lump in
her throat.
    “Of course, Tom will have to wire his findings to Carson City,” Jake went on. “I have other sales to arrange, so I’ll be in the area until the end of the week. Tom can send the telegram to me.” He nodded in the direction of town. “We’ll let the Unionists throw me out on the street, if they can.”
    Jess laughed. Jake Bennett was such a strong, solid man that it would take several lesser men to budge him. She glanced at him again and her laughter died down. The man was muscular and ruggedly handsome. She liked how the corners of his whiskey-brown eyes crinkled when he laughed, how his cheeks showed crooked creases when he grinned, and the fact that he smelled of horses, leather, and the outdoors…
    Before her thoughts could go too far in that direction, she forced her mind to easier matters: the sun-dappled trail, the cold, refreshing wind, and what Jake had said in Carson City—that a run